Chapter Twenty-Two: The First Unraveling
The night stretched long after their kiss, the world outside forgotten. Ethan had not let go of her hand, even as they sat in silence on the leather couch, the study lamp casting a golden glow over them.
Amara couldn't ignore the shift. The lines of their contract, once sharp and cold, blurred until they felt like nothing more than scribbles on paper. What they had now felt dangerously real.
"You scare me," Ethan said suddenly, his voice low.
Her brows lifted. "I scare you?"
"Yes." His gaze searched hers. "Because you make me want things I promised myself I'd never want again."
Her heart thudded, every beat echoing through her body. She swallowed hard. "Maybe you should stop fighting it."
He gave a faint, bitter laugh. "You make it sound easy."
Before she could reply, his lips were on hers again—no hesitation this time. It was urgent, consuming, the kind of kiss that burned away logic. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer, and Amara felt her walls crumble, brick by brick.
Her fingers tangled in his hair as she whispered against his mouth, "Ethan…"
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his breathing uneven. "Tell me to stop, and I will."
The sincerity in his eyes nearly undid her. She shook her head slowly. "Don't stop."
The rest of the night unraveled like a secret they'd both been holding too tightly. His touch was reverent yet desperate, her surrender unguarded. When dawn crept in through the curtains, they lay side by side, tangled in sheets and each other's presence, silence speaking louder than words.
For once, Ethan wasn't the unshakable billionaire or the untouchable movie star—he was just a man who had finally let himself be vulnerable.
Amara reached out, brushing her fingers against his cheek. "You're different when you let yourself be real."
His hand covered hers, holding it in place. "And you're dangerous when you make me forget why this marriage began in the first place."
Her heart clenched. She wanted to ask if he regretted it, but fear held her back. Instead, she offered a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Maybe forgetting isn't always a bad thing."
He didn't answer. Instead, he kissed her knuckles softly, as though sealing a fragile truce neither of them dared to name.
---
Later that morning, the fragile bubble burst.
Amara was curled on the couch, sipping coffee, when her phone buzzed with a notification. She glanced at the screen—and her blood ran cold.
BREAKING NEWS: Billionaire Actor Ethan Blackwood's Secret Marriage Raises Questions. Who is Amara Blake?
Her stomach dropped. She opened the article with shaking hands. Paparazzi photos from the gala filled the page—her smile, Ethan's hand on her waist, the balcony kiss caught in grainy detail. Headlines screamed speculation: Contract bride? Gold digger? Or hidden love affair?
The mug slipped from her hand, shattering against the floor.
Ethan appeared in the doorway instantly, his expression hardening when he saw her pale face. "What happened?"
She turned the phone toward him with trembling fingers. His jaw tightened as he read, a storm brewing in his eyes.
"They're coming for us," Amara whispered, fear lacing her voice.
Ethan set the phone down with controlled fury. "Then we give them nothing but what we choose. No one gets to define us but us."
But Amara wasn't sure if he meant them as a couple or their contract.
And in that terrifying, fragile moment, she realized the world wouldn't just test their agreement—it would test their hearts.