Chapter 5 – The Line Between Pretend and Real

Sophia stood motionless on the balcony, her breath uneven, her heart racing.

Damien's touch still lingered on her skin, his words echoing in her mind.

"How long do you think you can keep this up?"

Her fingers curled into fists.

She hated that he was getting under her skin.

Hated that the game she had sworn to play was starting to blur the line between reality and pretense.

Sophia wasn't foolish enough to believe Damien Blackwood had real feelings for her.

No.

This was his game just as much as it was hers.

But damn it—he was winning.

And she needed to take back control.

---

She forced herself to step away from the balcony railing, inhaling deeply before reentering the grand ballroom.

The gala was still in full swing—music, laughter, champagne bubbling over crystal glasses.

The perfect illusion of a world untouched by chaos.

Sophia's eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a distraction.

She needed something—**someone—**to shake Damien's hold on her.

And that's when she saw him.

Liam Carter.

Handsome, effortlessly charming, and—most importantly—someone Damien wouldn't ignore.

Liam had been watching her all night, and now, as their eyes met, he smirked and made his way over.

"Miss Reid," he drawled, offering his hand. "You look stunning tonight."

Sophia allowed a slow smile. "Flattery already? We haven't even danced yet."

Liam chuckled. "Then let's fix that."

He extended his hand.

Sophia hesitated for only a second before slipping her fingers into his.

She could feel Damien's gaze burning into her from across the room.

Good.

Let him watch.

---

Liam pulled her onto the dance floor, his grip firm but respectful.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he murmured as they swayed to the slow, hypnotic melody.

Sophia arched a brow. "What makes you think I'm playing anything?"

Liam's lips quirked. "Because I know Damien. And I know that look in his eyes."

She refused to turn her head toward Damien, refused to give Liam the satisfaction of seeing just how right he was.

Instead, she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice.

"And what look is that?"

Liam chuckled. "The look of a man who doesn't like to share what's his."

Sophia's stomach flipped, but she kept her expression calm.

"I'm not his."

Liam's eyes flickered with amusement. "Tell him that."

And then, before she could respond, Liam dipped her—right as Damien appeared beside them.

---

"Sophia," Damien's voice was smooth, controlled—but there was something lethal simmering beneath it.

Liam released her with a smirk. "Damien."

The air between them crackled.

Sophia straightened, forcing a polite smile. "Are you here to cut in?"

Damien's gaze never left hers. "I think you've had enough of this little game."

Liam chuckled but wisely stepped back. "I'll see you around, Sophia."

And just like that, she was alone with Damien.

His hand slid around her waist, pulling her back against him.

Too close. Too intimate.

But she refused to react.

Instead, she smirked. "Jealous?"

His fingers tightened slightly on her waist. "I don't play games I can't win."

She tilted her head. "Who says you're winning?"

His lips brushed against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

"You're still in my arms, aren't you?"

---

The gala ended an hour later, and Sophia found herself in the penthouse elevator alone with Damien.

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words.

She leaned against the glass wall, arms crossed.

"So, what was that little show back there?" she asked.

Damien stood still, hands in his pockets, eyes locked on her.

"You tell me," he said coolly.

Sophia smirked. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were acting possessive."

He took a step toward her. Then another.

Until she was trapped between him and the elevator wall.

His scent surrounded her—woodsy, dark, utterly intoxicating.

"I don't need to act, Sophia."

Her breath hitched.

Damien lifted a hand, brushing his thumb along her jaw.

Her pulse pounded.

This was too close. Too dangerous.

But she refused to move.

Refused to let him see how much he affected her.

Instead, she lifted her chin. "Then what do you need, Damien?"

His eyes darkened.

For a moment, she thought he might kiss her.

But then—the elevator dinged, breaking the spell.

He smirked. "You'll find out soon enough."

And just like that, he stepped away.

Leaving her standing there—breathless, furious, and more entangled in this game than ever before.

The elevator doors slid open, but Sophia didn't move.

She stood there, her body still humming with the electricity of Damien's closeness. His words echoed in her mind.

"You'll find out soon enough."

What the hell did that mean?

Damien strolled out of the elevator, his presence dominating the luxurious penthouse suite.

Sophia finally forced herself to step forward, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she followed him inside.

She was supposed to be in control.

She was supposed to be playing him.

So why did it feel like he was pulling her deeper into his web?

---

Damien poured himself a glass of whiskey, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Sit," he commanded.

She crossed her arms. "I'm not your pet."

He smirked. "No, but you are in my world now, and you need to learn the rules."

Sophia exhaled sharply but sat down on the plush couch, her posture rigid.

Damien took a seat across from her, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. His gaze locked onto hers with a piercing intensity.

"This arrangement between us," he said smoothly, "it's going to change."

Sophia arched a brow. "How so?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "We're raising the stakes."

She narrowed her eyes. "I thought the stakes were high enough."

He chuckled, low and dark. "Not even close."

The way he said it sent a thrill down her spine.

Sophia refused to let him see how much he affected her. "What exactly are you proposing?"

His expression was unreadable. "From now on, we stop pretending only in public."

Her breath caught.

He couldn't be serious.

"You mean—?"

"Yes." His voice was firm, final. "Behind closed doors, you'll still be mine."

Her pulse hammered. "And if I refuse?"

Damien set down his glass and leaned in, his face just inches from hers. "Then you lose."

She swallowed hard.

Damien Blackwood didn't play fair.

And if she wasn't careful, she'd lose more than just this game.

---

Sophia stood, pacing. "You expect me to just go along with this?"

Damien's gaze followed her, amused. "You've been enjoying our little game more than you admit."

She stopped, turning to face him. "You're arrogant."

He smirked. "And you like it."

Damn him.

Damn how right he was.

She folded her arms. "Fine. But if we're doing this, I have conditions."

He raised a brow. "Oh?"

She took a step closer, refusing to back down. "This remains strictly physical. No emotions. No real attachment."

Damien's lips curled. "Afraid you'll fall for me?"

She scoffed. "Not in this lifetime."

He studied her for a long moment before standing. "Fine. But remember, Sophia—"

He reached out, tilting her chin up with his fingers.

"When you start wanting more, don't say I didn't warn you."

A shiver ran through her.

She wouldn't.

She couldn't.

Because if she fell for Damien Blackwood, she knew there would be no coming back.

---

The tension between them was suffocating as she turned to leave.

But before she could take another step, Damien was behind her.

His fingers brushed against her wrist, sending shockwaves through her body.

She should have pulled away.

She should have stopped this.

Instead, she turned, and suddenly, his lips were on hers.

The world melted away.

It was fire and ice, war and surrender.

His hands gripped her waist, pulling her against him, and she lost herself in the moment, in the way his mouth dominated hers.

She hated him.

She wanted him.

She was falling.

And she didn't know if she'd ever be able to stop.