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64 - Ice
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2025-06-13 15:06:40
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The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée 66 - Wouldn't Like My Reasons
Before Victor could even process what had happened, Damien hauled him to his feet by the front of his shirt, slamming him against the wall. “She told you to leave her alone.” Damien'’s voice was still lethally quiet, but it vibrated with a controlled rage that was terrifying to behold. His other hand shot out, fingers clamping around Victor’s throat, cutting off his air supply. Victor's eyes bulged, his face turning a mottled purple. He clawed at Damien’s hand, gurgling sounds escaping his lips. “Damien, stop!” I cried, horrified. He was going to kill him. “You’ll kill him!” For a moment, I didn’t think he’d heard me. His focus was entirely on Victor, his expression one of pure, unadulterated darkness. Then, slowly, as if fighting an immense internal battle, his grip loosened slightly. He didn’t release Victor entirely but held him pinned against the wall, gasping for air. “If you ever,” Damien enunciated, his voice a low growl, each word dripping with menace, “touch her, sp
The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée 65 - Scream
The days following Sophia’s death were a hollow echo. Damien was a ghost in his own home, rarely seen, and when he was, his eyes passed right through me as if I were already a figment of his past. The lawyers had been in touch, their voices crisp and impersonal, outlining the terms of my public disgrace. I was to be the villain of the piece, the calculating gold digger. The statement they’d drafted was a masterpiece of character assassination. I hadn’t signed it yet, putting off the inevitable with a pathetic sort of defiance.George’s messages continued, a persistent, cloying stream of apologies and offers of help. I ignored them, the thought of leaning on him, of trading one cage for another, nauseating. Yet, his words – “I can protect you” – sometimes echoed in the lonely silence of my suite, a tempting whisper against the backdrop of Damien’s glacial indifference.The funeral was a grand, somber affair, attended by a veritable who’s who of New York society. I stood at the p
The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée 64 - Ice
“Damien., Angelina.” Her voice was a thread. She reached out a trembling hand, and Damien took it, his harsh features softening almost imperceptibly. “I’m here, Mother,” he said, his voice rough. Sophia’s gaze shifted to me, a faint, knowing smile touching her lips. “ you look so sad Angel.” Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t speak. “It’s alright, cara,” she whispered. “I know.” “Know what, Mother?” Damien asked, his voice tight. “About the arrangement.” Her eyes met his, then mine. “I’ve known for a while. A mother... always knows when her son is trying to protect her... or himself.” Damien stiffened, his face unreadable. I felt a fresh wave of shame wash over me. She’d known. She’d known it was all a lie, and yet she’d played along, her kindness a stark contrast to my deception. “Sophia, I am so sorry,” I choked out, tears streaming down my face. “I never meant to-” “Hush, child.” Her fingers, papery thin, tightened slightly on Damien’s. “It doesn’t matter now.” Her gaze f
The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée 63 - For The Worse
His words were like acid, eating away at the last vestiges of my composure. “This isn’t my fault!” “Isn’t it?” He snatched the magazine from the table, shoving it in my face, his finger jabbing at the picture of me and George. “This. This is your fault. Your inability to sever ties, your sentimental attachment to a past that should be dead and buried. You invited this scrutiny, this....filth, into my life with your carelessness!” “I didn’t ask for any of this!” I shouted back, tears of anger and despair finally breaking free. “I didn’t ask for George to stalk me, I didn’t ask for you to make me your prisoner, and I certainly didn’t ask for my private pain to be plastered across headlines!” “You knew the terms!” he roared, his icy control finally cracking, revealing the molten fury beneath. “You knew the stakes! Discretion was paramount! And you, with your naive belief in happy endings and reformed scoundrels, you jeopardized everything!” The sheer force of his rage was terrifying.
The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée 62 - Headline
ANGEL____The fragile truce I’d bought with my submission in the suite lasted less than a day. The air between Damien and me was thick with unspoken words, heavy with his cold triumph and my simmering resentment. He hadn’t touched me since the boathouse, his presence a constant, chilling reminder of the new terms of our ‘arrangement.’ My phone felt like a leash, every buzz a potential infraction, every glance from him a silent interrogation.I was in the small sunroom off the library, trying to lose myself in a book, when Izzy burst in, her face unusually pale, a gossip magazine clutched in her hand like a venomous snake.“Angel! Nonna tried to hide it, but I saw it on the newsstand when we went for pastries!” She thrust the magazine at me.The headline screamed across the glossy cover in lurid, oversized font: {BILLIONAIRE’S BOGUS BRIDE! Damien Salvatore’s ‘Fiancée’ A Penniless Painter Hired to Hoodwink Dying Mother!}Beneath it, a series of unflattering paparazzi photos: me look
The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée 61 - I Agree
“I don’t want to leave,” she choked out. “Please, Damien. Tell me what I need to do.” “It’s not just about blocking his number, Angel.” I let my hand drop, the brief contact severed. “It’s about eradicating him from your thoughts, your memories. It’s about understanding that your past life, the one where you entertained delusions of soulmates with men like George Sinclair, is over. Dead and buried.” I saw the internal schism I was creating, the agonizing conflict in her eyes. She was torn between her innate desire to appease, to be loved, and the dawning realization of the price of my affection. “My mother....she saw something good in us,” Angel said, her voice barely audible, clinging to that last shred of hope. “She believed...” “My mother is dying,” I interrupted, my voice hardening. “Her perceptions are clouded by sentiment and medication. She sees what she wants to see — a happy ending for her wayward son.” I leaned in, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “But we b
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