บททั้งหมดของ KISS OF HIS BETRAYAL: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

Once I was sure he was gone, I quickly locked everything – door, windows, even the small bathroom window that I was pretty sure no human could fit through.My hands were shaking as I tried to get ready, hyperaware that he was somewhere in my house, waiting. I slipped into my black sequined dress, the fabric hugging my curves perfectly. The one-shoulder design left one side completely bare, and the side split and mid cut revealed just enough skin to be alluring without being inappropriate.As I blow-dried my hair and styled it in loose waves swept to one side, I caught glimpses of myself in the mirror. I looked good – really good. Part of me wondered if Damon would notice, then immediately hated myself for caring.I fastened the delicate diamond earrings my mother had given me for my eighteenth birthday, the memory bringing a pang of homesickness. I looked at the bracelet Alex had given me, more like slipped onto my hand on my birthday, still wrapped around my wrist.I should probably t

The champagne was already being poured. Flutes were placed in front of us without request. I lifted mine numbly.We echoed him, but my thoughts wandered. Was this a beginning? Or the edge of something I wouldn’t come back from?Damon sat beside me, a little too close, his thigh pressed firmly against mine, his body curved subtly toward me like a shield. His hand— impossibly warm— rested on the back of my neck, fingers playing with the baby hairs there like I was his favorite possession.Eyes flicked in my direction— I felt like a flame in a room full of moths.I sat there, too stiff, worried that one wrong movement would unravel me. The slit of my dress was dangerously high— teasing the edge of propriety with every shift of my leg. One inch too far, and I’d expose more than just skin.The fabric clung to me like a dare, sequins catching the light, whispering secrets I wasn’t ready to share. I crossed my legs slowly, deliberately, praying my nerves wouldn’t betray me.I tried to speak,

Something about his earlier confession— about his family, his mother, his pain— had cracked a part of me I didn’t realize was so fragile. Before I could think, before my pride could scream at me to stop, I reached across the small space and took his hand. My fingers curled around his, and I could feel the tension in him ease, like that one touch broke through the armour he didn’t let anyone near.His eyes flickered in surprise, but they softened, the darkness in them shifting into something almost reverent.And then… My lips crashed into his, I kissed him.It was reckless, heat-of-the-moment insanity.It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t calculated. It was pure instinct— a pull I couldn’t fight. My lips pressed against his, tentative, testing the dangerous waters I swore I’d never drown in.For a second, Damon froze, as if the reality of me kissing him had stunned him into stillnessSomething dangerously close to hope flickered in his eyes—The space between us was charged — not with words, n

An uncomfortable silence filled the room after I finished, broken only by the sound of my ragged breathing."Well, for starters, she isn’t my girlfriend I have told you that a million times by now and she’s definitely not my future wife, it was an arrangement made by my father when I was just 10, and now he’s twisting Annaida’s relentless fixation on being my girlfriend into a weapon, using her stubborn pursuit of the title 'Mrs. Knight' to corner me into submission. …. I hope you remember my family drama that I told you yesterday," he said, irked, clearing the air with a brusqueness that was almost endearing."Anaida’s as headstrong as a royal who’s never heard the word ‘no’ whose every whim was treated like a royal decree. Given she’s my father’s best friend’s daughter, there are boundaries I can’t cross, even when she tests my patience. I can’t exactly deal with her the way I’d like to, and that connection ties my hands more than I’d care to admit. We tried dating once, ages ago but

When I emerged, I felt like a new Shefali, in a simple but elegant black dress that hugged my curves perfectly, I was a different person. He had left, and the silence of the room was a welcome relief. I needed to get out. I needed to eat.My stomach, forgotten in the whirlwind of emotions, growled.Downstairs, the scent of something delicious filled the air. I followed it to the kitchen, where Damon, still in his boxers, was cooking. He was a vision of masculine perfection, his back to me as he flipped pancakes.I sat on a bar stool, clearing my throat to announce my presence. My stomach growled again, a loud, embarrassing noise that made him chuckle."Did you cook all this here?" I asked skeptically."Not really.... This is the mini kitchen in my wing.... There isn't much stuff here. I thought you might want to have something warm, so I heated up everything, made some scrambled eggs and pancakes for you. I hope you like pancakes."There were soups, pancakes, bacon, macaroni and cheese