Amara's POV
I was still smiling when the call ended.
For the first time in weeks, my heart felt just a little lighter.
Leo was finally getting the treatment he needed.
I had no idea what it would look like living in a stranger's world for a hundred days but for that moment, none of it mattered.
He was going to be okay.
I turned, and Damien was watching me from the far end of the room. Still seated, still unreadable. His fingers drummed once against the armrest before he stood.
"You can settle in upstairs," he said plainly. "There are clothes in the closet. Burn whatever you brought."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
He didn't repeat himself. Just turned and walked toward the window like he hadn't said something completely insane.
Milo cleared his throat from behind me. "What Mr. Black means is that your current belongings won't match the aesthetic… or the press expectations."
"Press?" I echoed.
Damien spoke without turning. "They'll be watching. If I'm suddenly seen with someone, people will dig. I can't afford a weak link. Not visually. Not emotionally. Not in any way."
I crossed my arms. "So this is just… fashion policing now?"
He glanced over his shoulder. "It's survival."
Then back to the window. "Milo will handle the rest."
Milo nodded stiffly and gestured for me to follow him upstairs.
But before I moved, I looked back at Damien.
I don't know what I was expecting. A thank you? A nod?
Something.
But all I got was a cold silence and a reflection of myself in the glass as he looked out at the city like it belonged to him.
------
The penthouse was bigger than anything I'd ever walked through. Every step I took echoed.
Clean floors, glass walls, dimmed lighting, muted colors… and not a single picture frame or sign of life.
Just power and space.
I wandered a little on my own after Milo pointed out my room.
The kitchen was untouched. The bookshelves looked staged. Even the air smelled expensive.
And every hallway looked like it had been designed to make you feel small.
Which it did.
I paused by the balcony doors, trying to breathe in the view.
And somewhere far away… I swear I felt someone watching.
---
Damien's POV
"She's exploring," Milo reported through the earpiece as I adjusted my cufflink. "Bedroom. Kitchen. Living area now."
I leaned back into the leather chair in my home office, eyes flicking over the wall of screens. Every angle of the penthouse lit up in black-and-white security footage.
There she was.
Standing by the balcony doors like she didn't know what to do with her hands.
"She looks… a little lost," Milo added.
I didn't respond. Just watched.
She was different. That part I already knew.
She didn't fuss. Didn't snoop. Didn't try to impress.
She just moved through the space like she didn't want to disturb anything.
"She won't be seeing her brother for a while," I said flatly.
Milo hesitated. "Should I inform her we've moved them?"
"No."
"But..."
"I said no."
He cleared his throat. "Understood. The relocation is complete. Zaria and Leo are in the new apartment. Medical team is with them now."
I nodded to myself.
That part was done.
Safe. Quiet. Out of her reach.
Because this wasn't just about fulfilling Grandpa's last wish.
This was about control.
About proving something.
And I couldn't afford for anything or anyone to break that line.
Even her.
Especially her.
---
Amara's POV
The bedroom was twice the size of my old apartment.
There were four closets. Three rugs. One mirror that covered an entire wall.
And on the bed… a row of outfits still on hangers. Tags still attached. Black, white, cream, gray. No color in sight.
I sat down on the edge of the mattress and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
Leo would've loved the view.
He would've pressed his little face against the glass and made dolphin noises just for fun.
But he wasn't here.
I wasn't allowed to call.
Or visit.
Or even know where he was.
That wasn't part of the deal.
And as I lay back, staring up at the perfect white ceiling in the perfect cold room, I realized something else:
I'd said yes to the devil.
I'd signed away my choices for a stack of money and a hundred days of pretending.
I knew I'd leave with him when I said yes.
I just didn't expect that I'd be living with him.
Or that I wouldn't see my brother for a hundred whole days.
A soft knock came at the door.
I didn't answer right away.
Milo's voice followed gently, "Miss Dean? Mr. Black requests your presence in the dining room. Dinner is in thirty."
I opened the door halfway, leaning against it. "I'm not hungry."
Milo blinked, clearly not expecting that. "It would mean a lot to him if you joined. First impressions...."
I shook my head. "He can be impressed later. Or not at all. I'm not leaving this room."
He hesitated. "Perhaps you'd like the meal brought to you, then?"
"I don't want anything," I said quietly, arms folding. "Not food. Not company. Just time."
Milo looked at me for a moment longer, then gave a short bow. "Understood. I'll let him know."
The door clicked shut softly behind him.
I didn't cry.
Not yet.
But my stomach twisted painfully, not from hunger… from everything.
Leo. The treatment. Zaria. The sudden walls around me.
And Damien Black sitting somewhere in this place like I was just another chess piece in his game.
I climbed into the sheets fully dressed and curled up on my side.
If this was day one…
What the hell would day ninety-nine feel like?
---
Damien's POV
"She said no?" I repeated slowly, eyes narrowing.
Milo shifted uncomfortably by the table. "Respectfully, sir… yes. She said she wouldn't be eating. Not here, not anywhere else."
My fingers tightened around the edge of the table. "She's going against the deal already?"
"She's… processing," Milo tried to explain. "It's a lot."
I stood up slowly. The chair scraped sharply against the floor. "She signed the contract. No excuses."
"Sir, maybe just give her space..."
"I'm not paying her to mope."
With that, I turned and strode down the hall. Fast. Focused.
The guest wing was silent, lights dimmed. I didn't slow as I reached her door.
I knocked once.
No response.
"Open the door," I said, voice hard.
Silence.
"Amara."
Still nothing.
I exhaled sharply, temper rising. "Open this door or I'll break it down."
The handle turned a second later.
And when the door cracked open
I pushed it wide and stepped in before she could stop me. Slammed it shut behind me.
She barely had time to react.
I moved fast.
Grabbed her by the wrist not rough, but enough to jolt her and backed her up until her spine hit the wall.
Her eyes widened