All Chapters of BOUND BY DECEIT : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Damian sat in his study, the phone still clutched tightly in his hand. His chest felt tight, almost as if it were squeezing itself from the inside out. The sound of Amaya’s voice earlier, trembling and fearful, had not left his ears. He had been paralyzed for the first few seconds, unsure what to do or how to act, and then something inside him snapped.He had called a driver immediately, grabbed his jacket, and driven across the city in record time, ignoring the speed limits and honking cars that dared to slow him down. The usual calm, measured Damian—always in control, always calculating—was gone. Replaced by a frantic, almost desperate need to make sure she was safe.The image of her on the ground, the papers scattered, the fear in her eyes… it haunted him. He could barely breathe, and yet the drive had felt too long, each second torturous. He had promised himself he would never let anyone hurt her again. He would protect her with everything he had.When he arrived at Kelly’s apartm

Amaya sat on the edge of the couch, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. The city lights outside flickered like distant stars, but inside Kelly’s apartment, there was a thick tension in the air. Kelly paced in front of her, phone in hand, murmuring plans, ideas, and contingencies that Amaya struggled to keep up with.“I just… I don’t know if any of this will work,” Amaya whispered, her voice shaky. “She’s too clever, Kelly. Nancy… she doesn’t play fair.”Kelly stopped pacing and knelt in front of her, gripping her shoulders firmly. “Amaya, listen to me. You’ve survived everything so far, haven’t you? You’re stronger than you think. And now, we’re going to make sure she doesn’t even get close to you. Understand?”Amaya nodded weakly. She wanted to believe her best friend, but the fear still pulsed in her chest like a drum. “I… I just… I feel like I’m always running, like she’s always ahead.”“That’s why we’re going to change that,” Kelly said, her eyes sharp and determined. “We’re

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the safe house’s tall windows, painting the room in soft gold. Amaya stirred beneath the blankets, her mind still foggy from sleep, but the warmth beside her made her hesitate before opening her eyes. Damian was still asleep, his arm draped over her waist, holding her close as if he could protect her even in slumber.Her heart fluttered, a mix of nervousness and comfort. She reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from his face, marveling at how peaceful he looked. The intensity he carried when awake was replaced by something softer, gentler. It made her stomach twist with emotions she hadn’t expected.“You’re staring,” Damian murmured, his voice husky, half-asleep.Amaya blinked, suddenly embarrassed. “I… I was just… looking,” she said softly.He smiled, lifting a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Looking at me, huh?” His tone carried amusement, teasing yet tender.She smiled back nervously. “I guess… yeah.”He pulled her closer, p

The city outside the safe house seemed quiet, almost deceptively so. Amaya sat at the edge of the sofa, staring at her hands. Even after Miguel’s interference had been neutralized, the tension from the morning hadn’t fully dissipated. Her nerves were still raw, every creak of the floorboards, every distant horn, every flicker of shadow making her flinch. But Damian… he was there. Always there. And somehow, just his presence made the fear easier to bear.He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, dark eyes watching her with an intensity that made her chest tighten. There was something different in the way he looked at her today—softer, more vulnerable, yet still commanding. She could feel it in the air, an unspoken weight pressing down, drawing her in.“Amaya,” Damian said finally, his voice low, deliberate. “We need to talk.”Her heart skipped a beat. She had a sudden, irrational hope that this was different—that he wasn’t angry, that he wasn’t frustrated, that maybe… he was about t

The city was quiet now, the gala long over, but the adrenaline from the evening still thrummed in Amaya’s veins. She sat by the window in the safe house, the soft glow of the streetlights casting long shadows across the room. Damian leaned against the doorway behind her, arms crossed, dark eyes scanning the street below. The city seemed calm, but both of them knew that calm was fragile—Nancy and Miguel were still out there, scheming, waiting for a misstep.Amaya sipped her tea, feeling the warmth spread through her chest. “Do you ever get tired?” she asked softly, breaking the silence. “Of all this… danger, planning, always being on edge?”Damian’s eyes softened, though the intensity remained. He stepped closer, lowering himself onto the sofa beside her. “I get tired,” he admitted. “But not of protecting you. Not of us. Everything else… it’s just noise. Temporary.”Her heart thudded as his hand brushed against hers, fingers intertwining. She leaned slightly into him, feeling the solid