Novel & Cerita Faking It With Damian Black Novel

Damian gave me a cold stare, indicating he shouldn't ask futher questions. He stepped down from car, tucked his hands into his pocket while he gazed around. He quietly walked to the door of the apartment, He stared at the door, as if he was scanning the environment. He gently placed his hands on the bell and it rang inside the house. “Hold on I'm coming..” Sophia said, almost shouting from inside, She slowly opened the door, Shocked. She froze for a moment, “Go.. good day Mr. Blackwood,” She stuttered, staring at Damian like she had seen a ghost, he made his way into the house, while she stared at him in awe. “Nice place tho…” He said, while he sat on the couch in the living room. “Complimen

His hand rested firmly at the small of my back, and every flash captured the same image: Damian Blackwood standing proudly with Evelyn Hart, his fiancée. The reporters screamed questions. “Damian, is it true? Did you know she was an ex-convict?” He smirked, as if the chaos amused him. Then he leaned closer to my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “Smile. Let them choke on it.” And I did. I smiled, though my chest ached, though my hands shook. Because in that moment, Damian made me feel untouchable. Hours later, after the show was over and the lights died down, I returned to my room, exhausted. I slipped out of the dress, rubbed at the ache in my feet, and thought maybe—just maybe—I had su

I kept my hands folded in my lap as we drove, wondering what I had gotten myself into by agreeing to this. Inside the car, it was quiet for a long time. I finally broke the silence. “Tell me about your family.” Damien’s expression changed right away. “There’s not much to tell.” “I doubt that,” I said. After a pause, he started talking. “My father remarried after my mother died. Victoria is my stepmother. She likes control.” I smiled a little. “That’s your warning?” “No.” He glanced at me briefly. “This is. Answer only what you’re asked. Don’t volunteer information.”

“Shall I book the three of you a counseling session? Maybe they’ll give you a discount for bringing your mistress and her doctor boyfriend together.” “Vanessa!” I snapped, my voice echoing like thunder. She flinched but recovered quickly, eyes glittering with spite. “What? Did I hit a nerve? You want her, Damian. Everyone sees it. Everyone but you. That’s the joke, you’re the only one still pretending you don’t care.” Amara let out a shaky laugh, bitter and broken. “And yet, he’ll never say it. Because that would make him human. Vulnerable. And Damian Blackwell doesn’t bleed.”

She picked up the books and inspected it. "You will read them Rose enough of your thriller and horror genres..." Damian ordered her. She looked at the books with wide eyes when she realised all of them were erotica and bdsm books... Damian chuckled at her reaction. "If you are like this after just looking at it then how will you react when we will try this..." He smirked evilly making her heart thump rapidly. Damian slid down beside her resting his head on his arm while she was leaning against the bedpost trying to read the books.

“Fifteen. Her name’s Nova Camille Lawson. Black curls like her mama’s. Eyes too wide, always full of questions. Reads too much. Loves poetry, even when she pretends not to. Smart—scary smart. If you ever meet her… don’t hurt her. Protect her. Please.” Damian didn’t answer. Couldn’t. But something in him shifted that night. A vow, quiet and burning. The next day, the man was gone, no body, no explanation, Just gone. And Damian never stopped wondering if that night, their last, had made him an accomplice or a witness.

~GEORGIA, ATLANTA 2013~ ~AUTHORS’ PERSPECTIVE~ Damian felt bad for lying, he was perturbed about where he would get a fake fiance because, truth be told, he was not engaged, and if he was ever to get engaged, it should be Cassie, no one else.

"It's just that I feel like I don't know anything about you. I'm your friend, right? I don't even know what you did abroad. What your job is. You never talk to me about yourself." "Are you interested in me?" Damian asked. I knew he was just teasing me. And my sharp gaze made him understand. He chuckled and apologized. "Where to start? Um... Let's start our introduction from the beginning. My name is Damian Blackwood, I'm 29 years old. My job includes lyricist, composer, music producer. People know me more as Whitehollow than as Damian. You can type that name into a search engine and you'll find out more. Then... I came home for a vacation, but my grandfather gave me a task of making a demo s

Nikolai leaned forward, unafraid, eyes sharp as glass. “Or what?” he challenged. “You’ll chase me? In your wheelchair?” The nurses sucked in air like they’d never breathe again. Damian’s eyes narrowed until they were nearly black. Then he did something Nikolai didn’t expect. Damian leaned closer… and said, slowly, like he wanted every syllable to land with weight. “You asked who Damian Blackwell is.” Nikolai blinked. Damian’s mouth curled, cruel, controlled. “I am Damian Blackwell.”

Fake smiles and old money. He’s sitting at the bar when I walk in, glass in hand, smirk ready. “Brother,” he drawls, lifting his drink. “You look terrible. Trouble in paradise?” I grab him by the collar before anyone can blink. “You really want to do this here?” He laughs, low and mean. “Relax, Damian. I’m just giving you options.” “You think blackmail is an option?” He shrugs. “Call it business. You always were the golden boy—Mr. Perfect. Everyone forgets who taught you how to play dirty.”