All Chapters of Blood Ties and Billionaire Lies: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

After everything that happened, I called Alia and we went home together. Neither of us had the energy to cook, so we ordered takeout, too much, as usual. The bags filled the coffee table, the sweet and spicy smells mixing into something comforting. I sat on the couch with a heavy sigh, finally letting the day crash down on me. Alia flopped beside me, phone already in hand, scrolling like she hadn’t just seen my world tilt on its axis. I explained everything that happened with Damien, every word, every accusation, every piece of my frustration that I had been holding in. When I finally stopped, I expected her to gasp, curse him, or even agree with me that he had no right dragging Cassandra into that conversation. But her response was shocking. “Selena…” she leaned back, crossing her legs. “Don’t get mad at me, but… I think you should hear Damien out.” I blinked. “Excuse me?” She gave me that look, the one that said she wasn’t trying to betray me but she was going to speak her mind

After the kiss, Damien’s silent, damning stares settled over the company like a suffocating breeze. It wasn’t just a look, it was a weight, pressing into my ribs until breathing felt like work. It followed me into every room, into every conversation, into every step I took down the glossy marble halls of Roth Enterprise. Sometimes I felt it before I even saw him, the way the temperature in the room shifted, the way everyone else straightened in their seats and dropped their voices when he entered. And when our eyes met, even for a second, I felt stripped bare. Like he knew. Like everyone knew. The kiss hadn’t been meant to happen. It wasn’t supposed to break past the invisible barrier Richard and I had so carefully maintained. But the truth lived in the air now, unspoken yet suffocating, and Damien’s eyes told me he had sensed every ounce of it. The stares got me questioning if people knew about the kiss. I became hyper-aware of my colleagues’ glances, the half-second pauses in c

The city night was a vibrant blur of neon lights and pulsing music. Billboards and headlights streaked past as Richard drove, his car slicing through the darkness with the elegance of a predator moving through its territory. My forehead rested lightly against the cool glass of the window, the hum of the engine beneath me, as the storm of the week began to dissolve into the night. Richard brought me to a small, exclusive club tucked away from the mainstream streets. From the outside, it looked unassuming, black doors, a single crimson sign glowing faintly above, but once we stepped inside, it was as though we had crossed into another world. The bass thumped in my chest, heavy and primal, while colored lights swept across the crowd like restless waves. People danced shoulder to shoulder, laughter and music mingling in the humid air. Here, in this cocoon of anonymity, there were no boardrooms, no whispers of scandal, no Damien Roth. Just noise, light, and release. We slipped into a pri

His touch was pure exploration—gentle and firm, reverent and hungry all at once. His lips claimed mine again, then traveled lower, brushing over my throat, lingering at the hollow of my chest. Every kiss was a promise, a question, an answer I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear. I told myself I should pull away, that it was too fast, too much, too soon, but I couldn’t. Why should I? For the first time in so long, I felt seen. Wanted not for what I could do or should be, but for who I was, raw and unguarded. My world narrowed to him—Richard’s hands roaming my skin, the scent of his cologne mingling with the smoky warmth of the fire, the faint sound of wood crackling as though it kept pace with the rhythm of our breaths. At some point, his shirt came off, discarded with a kind of careless urgency, and then mine followed in a breathless exchange. The cool air against my bare skin made me shiver, but his body hovered over mine, radiating heat, shielding me from everything but him. He laid

The weekend continued as if the world outside had ceased to exist. It unfolded slowly, like a dream I was afraid to wake from. The morning light poured through the countryside house’s wide windows, illuminating the kitchen in soft gold. Richard stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up, a knife moving expertly through a handful of herbs. The scent of rosemary and garlic filled the air, mingling with the warmth of brewing coffee. I leaned against the doorway, still barefoot, hair messy, watching him with a quiet smile tugging at my lips. He looked so different like this, no suit, no carefully measured tone of authority, no sharp edge that commanded boardrooms. Just a man, humming faintly under his breath, lost in something so simple as preparing breakfast. “You’re staring,” he said without looking up, his voice playful. “Am I?” I asked, feigning innocence as I crossed the room. “Maybe I’m just hungry.” He glanced up then, his smile lazy but knowing. “Hungry, hmm? Good. Because this..