All Chapters of The Billionaire's undercover bride : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

VIVIANAfter the stranger left and Damian returned to the kitchen wearing that carefully composed mask he used whenever something rattled him, I pretended not to notice. Pretended I didn’t feel the shift in the air. Pretended my heartbeat didn’t stumble the moment he said, “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”He didn’t lie often.But when he did, his voice got soft—too soft—like now.So I didn’t push.Instead, we finished cooking together, and when we sat at the small dining table, eating spoonfuls of the stew, something warm replaced the tension. Neither of us talked about the knock, the man, or the problem beneath Damian’s calm expression. We didn’t need to. Silence was easier.Halfway through the meal, Damian looked up at me suddenly, eyes warming in that way that made my stomach flutter.“Let’s go to the beach,” he said.I blinked. “The beach?”“Yeah.” A faint smile tugged at his lips. “The one where you drenched me in coconut drink.”I choked on my food. “That was an accident.

VIVIAN The ride home from the beach felt too quiet.Damian’s hand rested on my thigh—not possessive, not even intentional, just there, like his touch had a mind of its own. The streetlights washed his face in gold and shadow, making him look softer than he ever admitted to being. But beneath that softness, I could feel the tension, the questions he refused to voice.My heart hadn’t settled since that stranger called me a detective. No matter how casually I’d laughed it off, something in Damian’s eyes had tightened—barely, but enough for me to notice.Now, as we walked through the front door, he closed it gently behind him and leaned against it, watching me with an unreadable expression.“Vivian,” he said lowly. “Come here.”God. His voice alone felt like fingers sliding down my spine.I stepped toward him, pretending my heartbeat wasn’t punching my ribs from the inside. He didn’t move—not to grab me, not to crowd me—just watched. Studied. Like he was searching for something in my fac

VIVIAN I could still feel Charlotte’s panic on my skin long after she slipped into the stairwell.By the time I walked into Damian’s office, my hands were trembling so badly I hid them behind my back. His office smelled faintly of cedar and that cologne he always wore—the one that made my thoughts foggy when he stood too close.I sank onto the couch, breathing through the storm inside me.He can’t know. He can’t suspect anything. Not now.The door clicked open.Damian walked in, loosening his tie as he closed the door with his foot. He glanced at me immediately, and something in his expression softened—like seeing me was a relief he hadn’t known he needed.“There you are,” he murmured. “You look like you’re thinking too much.”If only he knew.He walked over and cupped my jaw gently, tilting my face up. “Talk to me.”Panic clawed at my throat.I forced a tiny smile. “I’m fine.”He studied me for a long moment. Too long. His eyes were sharp—too sharp. Damian always saw more than he le

DAMIANThe moment she whispered stop, something inside me snapped back into place like a rope pulled tight.I stepped back because I had to.Not because I wanted to.God knows I didn’t want to.Even now, minutes later, standing on the balcony outside our bedroom, the cold night air slicing through my shirt, I can still feel her—the warmth of her body pressed to mine,the tremble of her breath,the way she clutched my shirt like she didn’t want me to pull away.I drag a hand down my face.What the hell was I doing?Vivian’s soft footstep reaches the doorway behind me, so light I almost think I imagined it. But when I turn, she’s standing there in the dim light of the room, arms wrapped around herself, not because she’s cold… but because she’s unsure.Of me.And that hits harder than it should.“Damian,” she says quietly.Her voice does something to me. It always has. It’s soft, a little careful, like she’s weighing my reaction before she gives me all her words.I straighten, forcing m

VIVIANThe night crept in softly, wrapping the house in a stillness that felt almost unreal. It was the kind of silence where even the shadows seemed to breathe slowly. Damian and I were curled up together on the couch, the dim golden lamp behind us casting a warm glow on his features.His hand rested lightly on my thigh—not possessive, just present. His thumb traced small circles over the fabric of my dress, absent-minded and gentle, as if touching me was now something his body did without conscious thought.We weren’t speaking.We didn’t need to.Every so often, he’d look at me—those silver-gray eyes scanning my face like he was memorizing every expression I made. And every single time, my chest tightened with something confusing and terrifyingly tender.I shouldn’t be falling for him.Not with everything at stake.Not after pocketing his files, hiding evidence, lying straight to his face.But in moments like this, with the world quiet and his breath warm against my temple…It becam