All Chapters of Claimed By The Billionaire: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Damon I walk to the window and pull the curtain back just enough to see.Yeah. That’s Kingsley. I’d recognise that ugly dent on the side mirror of that car anywhere."It’s Kingsley," I call over my shoulder. My voice sounds rougher than intended. Probably from the silence. Probably from...whatever the hell this morning was.I hear her shift behind me with the rustle of the blanket. But she doesn’t say anything. I can feel her watching me. Like always. Always watching.I take a step back from the window, and my jaw tightens as I drag a hand down my face. I’m still not sure what last night was. Or this morning. Or...any of it.I step back from the window, still staring at the glass like it’ll give me answers. It doesn’t. It just shows me my reflection. Tired eyes, clenched jaw, and the same old mask.Behind me, I hear the rustle of the blanket.I turn, and she’s standing now, unwrapping herself from the duvet like she’s peeling off a second skin. She tosses it onto the bed and bends d

Aria“What do you mean we’re leaving?”I stare at him, still gripping the door handle, like I need it to anchor me.He doesn’t even blink. "You heard me. We’re leaving," Damon says, voice flat and business-like, like we’re back to being nothing more than lines on a contract. "Soon."I blink harder, trying to push back the lump forming in my throat. "When is soon?"He shrugs, the way he always does when he wants to keep me guessing. "I don’t know yet. But it should be this week."I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. This week?I step back into the room, pacing now, arms crossed over my chest like they can hold me together.“What changed, Damon? Why now? Why now that I’m just settling in?” The words come out sharper than I intend, but I don’t care. "Why now?"He doesn’t hesitate. "It’s long overdue, A."That’s it. That’s his whole explanation.Long overdue.Like it’s that simple.Like my life can be uprooted again without a second thought.I don’t respond right away beca

AriaI settle into the far corner of the restaurant, my back against the cool leather seat and arms folded tightly around my body like that alone can keep me from unravelling.The noise in here is just enough to drown out my thoughts if I let it. Clinking glasses, low laughter, the occasional hiss of the coffee machine. It’s comfortingly impersonal. Nobody here knows me. Nobody here stares at me like they’re waiting for me to crack.A waiter approaches. Young, polite, the kind of guy who probably rehearsed his opening line in the mirror."Good evening, miss. Can I get you started with something? Or would you like to see the menu?"I blink up at him, pulling myself back into the moment. "Menu, please."He hands it to me with a practised smile. "Let me know when you’re ready."I scan the menu, eyes glazing over the words until I finally land on something light. Something I can pick at while pretending to be fine."Uh, I’ll have the grilled chicken salad. Light dressing, please.""Of cou

Damon She's asleep. Finally.Curled up into herself like she’s trying to make her body smaller, tucked so deep into the duvet you’d think the thing might swallow her whole if she let it.Her face is soft now, the lines that usually crease her forehead when she's awake smoothed out, lips slightly parted, strands of hair fanned across the pillow like they’ve been there forever.I watch her.I know I shouldn’t.But I do anyway.Because when she’s asleep? She’s quiet. There’s no eye-rolling. No smart comebacks. No running mouth.Just... peace.It’s a dangerous thing, the way she looks when she’s not fighting me. It makes me forget. Makes me almost reach for something that doesn’t exist between us.Something that never should.I rake a hand down my face, sinking deeper into my side of the bed, keeping my distance because it’s the only thing I know how to do.Still, my eyes keep drifting to her.Following the subtle rise and fall of her chest. The delicate way her hand tucks under her chin

AriaIt’s the soft light that wakes me first.That dim glow leaking through these gigantic curtains. The city’s still trying to sleep, but Vancouver mornings are stubborn and persistent like that.I blink slowly, my body sinking into the bed as my mind stirs, heavy and fuzzy.I don’t remember how I got here. I do remember eating. Then, sitting on the couch by my bedside with a book, I was deceiving myself with.Then it’s blank from there on.But here I am. Tucked in. Not the half-assed kind of way I’d do for myself.Properly.The sheets are pulled just right, and the pillow’s fluffed under my head. The duvet’s also draped over me like a shield.Nope. This wasn’t me.I glance sideways.Damon. He’s right at his end of our bridge of a bed.His eyes are shut, and his face is calm. But with him, you can never really tell. He could be awake. Hell, he’s probably awake.But, he could also be faking it, like he fakes everything else.Part of me wants to poke him. Test the waters, but I know we