The Billionaire's Forced Bride

Chapter 002

The Lady in Red Dress

Damian’s POV

I leaned back, still unsteady against the bedpost, loosening the tie that felt like a noose around my neck. Tonight, from my planning, was supposed to be another huge celebration of success, but instead, it felt like an endless and meaningless loop of empty congratulations and cheap whiskey.

Just when I decided to finally close my eyes, hoping for a moment of peace, the door creaked open, interrupting me.

“Room service?” I asked lazily, not bothering to turn around to see for myself, as all my thoughts wasn't organized.

There came no answer.

I sat up, frowning, my body still unsteady. “Hello?”

The sound of a close hesitant footsteps reached my ears. I turned and froze at the sight before me. I saw a gorgeous woman standing in the doorway, wide eyed like a deer caught in headlights, with no escape route.

“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice sharp but coarse.

Her hand gripped firmly on the doorframe, and she seemed ready to bolt any minute. “I… I think I’m in the wrong room.”

My eyes narrowed at her response. She wasn’t in anyway dressed like hotel staff. Her dress clung like a second skin to her like she had been running, and her messy hair , but beautiful hair framed a face that was both stunning and alarmingly panicked.

“Wrong room?” I repeated, still trying to figure out what was happening.

“Yes,” she replied quickly, but her feet didn’t take any step out.

Something about her aura didn’t quite add up to me. People, from my experiences, didn’t just wander into my suite unless they had a reason for that.

“Come in,” I said, leaning forward and anticipating her.

“No, I should go be going...”

Her attempt to backpedal failed woefully when she tripped over the edge of the rug. Instinct kicked in with no warning. I lunged forward and immediately caught her gorgeous body in my arms before she hit the ground.

She gasped as our bodies made contact, her hands gripping my arms for balance. Her eyes held mine Passionately, and for a moment, neither of us dared moved.

“Careful,” I finally said softly. “You could’ve hurt yourself in the process.”

“Let me go now, please...” she whispered, her voice trembling.

But her hands in contrast to her words, didn’t leave my arms, and something in her expression begged me to hold on, even tightly to her.

“You’re shaking,” I said. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing serious,” she replied, too quickly.

“Liar,” I muttered to her hearing.

“I really need to go,” she said again, but her voice was weaker this time.

“Then why aren’t you leaving as you said?”

She opened her mouth to answer me, but no words failed her. Instead, I watched as her gaze dropped to the floor, as if she had on her, a burden too heavy to name.

“What’s your name?” I finally asked.

“Why do you care that much?” she shot back, a spark of defiance surrounding her face.

“Because you missed your way, and currently standing in my hotel room, looking like the world just ended,” I said simply.

For a second, she hesitated, maybe not knowing what to say. “Amara,” she finally said.

Amara. It suited her kind of woman.

“Amara,” I deliberately repeated, tasting the name in my mouth. “I’m Damian.”

“I should go this minute,” she whispered again, and still, this time again, she didn’t move.

I stepped closer to her, ensuring to close the space between us. “Are you running away from something terrible?”

Her lips parted to narrate her story, but before she could answer, the air between us shifted, without warning, it became charged and replaced by raw emotion. I don’t know who moved first, maybe it was her, maybe I took the liberty of moving first, but suddenly, I found her lips on mine.

It wasn’t a sweet kind of kiss. It was very desperate, messy, like she was putting her all, trying to escape whatever demons haunted her.

“Wait,” she breathed, suddenly pulling back slightly. Her hands made their way to rest on my chest, but they didn’t push me away.

“We can stop if you don't want it,” I said, though the heat between us made it hard to mean what I just said.

Her eyes weakly searched mine, as if looking for an answer I couldn’t give her. Then she leaned over and kissed me again, harder this time, and I knew we were crossing a line that couldn’t be undone.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The morning sunlight streamed mercilessly through the curtains. I groaned in pleasure, dragging a hand across my face. My head pounded continuously like a drumbeat, and my body felt heavy.

Turning over, as usual, I expected to see the same occurence of emptiness of my bed. Instead, I saw her beside me.

Amara.

She sat face down on the edge of the bed, clutching the sheet like her life depended on it to her chest. Her hair was a total mess, and her shoulders trembled for reasons I know not as if she was on the verge of breaking.

“Morning,” I said, my voice rough from the alcohol that I took.

She flinched like a puppet at the sound, her gaze darting immediately toward the closed door.

“Relax,” I said. “I have no intention of biting you.”

“This was a huge mistake,” she muttered, more to herself than to me.

I sat up beside her, carefully studying her. “Was it?”

“Yes,” she snapped furiously, finally turning to face me. Her eyes had turned red, and guilt was written all over her face that it almost broke me.

Before I had the chance to say anything else, she scrambled to her feet, gathering her dress from the floor. “I shouldn’t have been here in the first place. This never happened, okay?”

“Amara, wait...”

But she was already at the door, her hand turning the doorknob, opening it. She didn’t look back, and when the door finally slammed shut, it left an unsettling silence in its wake.

I stared unbelievably at the empty space where she had been, her name still lingering on my lips.

Amara.

Who exactly was she? And why on it does it feel like she just took a piece of me alongside with her?