Chapter Two – Velvet Chains

By morning, Amara convinced herself the kiss was just a test. A game of power. Nothing more.

And yet, when she walked into the kitchen to find Damon already dressed in a navy suit that looked like it cost more than her college education, she couldn’t stop remembering the way his lips had tasted—like scotch, fire, and danger.

He didn’t look at her.

“Breakfast,” he said, barely glancing up from his phone.

On the marble counter sat a tray of fresh croissants, sliced fruit, and coffee she hadn’t brewed.

“You did this?”

He arched a brow. “No. My chef delivered it before you woke. You’ll eat at 7 every morning. Meetings begin at 8. I don’t like to repeat myself.”

She poured herself coffee, masking the twist of nerves in her belly. “I wasn’t expecting room service.”

“You’re not a guest. You’re an asset.”

She sipped. “Nice to know I’m not human here.”

“Good. You’re learning.”

He stood, walked past her, and paused—just a breath away.

“Get dressed. Wear black. You’re coming with me.”

“To where?”

He looked her over slowly, gaze dragging across the curve of her waist.

“To see if you’re worth keeping.”

---

They arrived at a private building guarded by men in black.

Damon didn’t explain.

He just led her to the top floor, through a glass door etched with gold: KADE INTERNATIONAL – BOARDROOM 01.

Inside, ten men and women in suits sat around a conference table. Powerful. Calculated. And judging her.

Amara sat beside Damon, praying her silence looked more like poise than panic.

The meeting started.

Contracts. Acquisition talks. International expansions.

She tried to keep up, taking notes, nodding when she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to.

Halfway through, one of the men—a silver-haired executive with a smirk that screamed entitlement—leaned forward.

“So this is the girl?”

Damon didn’t blink. “She’s mine.”

Her stomach twisted.

The man smiled. “Pretty. Hopefully useful.”

Amara met his gaze without flinching. “Would you say the same if I were a man?”

Damon looked at her—sharp. But behind his cold eyes, something sparked. Approval? Amusement?

The executive chuckled. “She has a spine.”

“She has more than that,” Damon said flatly. “Dismissed.”

The man opened his mouth—but closed it when Damon’s stare cut through him.

Ten minutes later, the meeting ended.

---

In the elevator, she finally exhaled.

“Was that a test?”

“Everything is.”

“Did I pass?”

He glanced at her.

“Barely.”

She folded her arms. “Charming.”

“You stood your ground. That matters. But this world isn’t impressed by backbone. It only respects blood.”

“Yours?”

He stepped closer, backing her into the elevator wall. The lights flickered as the floors ticked past.

“My name opens doors, Amara. But my reputation… makes people afraid to close them.”

“Do you like being feared?”

He leaned in, lips grazing her ear.

“I like control.”

The elevator opened.

She stepped out, trying not to tremble.

---

Back at the penthouse, she stormed into her room.

He followed.

“You think I don’t know what this is?” she snapped. “You’re testing me—seeing how far I bend before I break.”

His voice was cool. “And?”

“I don’t break.”

His eyes darkened.

He moved closer, slowly, until his chest almost touched hers.

“You should.”

Then he cupped her face—and kissed her again.

Harder this time. Deeper.

Like he wanted to ruin the space between them.

She moaned against his mouth, fists tightening in his shirt.

He pushed her gently against the door, one hand gripping her hip.

“I told you,” he whispered, “this can’t happen.”

“Then stop.”

He kissed her harder.

She arched into him.

Clothes half torn, breath stolen.

But just as it turned feverish, he pulled back.

Eyes wild. Hands trembling.

“You’re not ready for what I’ll do to you,” he said.

She met his gaze, breathless. “Then teach me.”

For a second, the world stood still.

Then he stepped back—like he was afraid of his own shadow.

“I’ll ruin you.”

“You already are.”

He left the room without another word.

---

That night, she lay awake, heat burning between her thighs, memory blazing behind her eyes.

Who was this man?

And what had she just signed herself into?

One thing was certain.

This wasn’t just a job.

This was a trap.

And she was already tangled in its velvet chains.

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