Chapter 6 The Rule Of Engagement

The bedroom door slammed behind Isla with satisfying force. She pressed her back against it as if the solid wood could shield her from the memory of Damien's lips on hers. Her fingers rose instinctively to trace her mouth-still warm from his kiss.

"No."

She shoved away from the door, pacing the length of the extravagant bedroom like a caged panther. The room was a masterpiece of cold elegance-all steel grays and icy blues, the furniture so pristine it might never have been touched. Just like its owner.

"It was all for the cameras. Just for the damned cameras. It meant absolutely nothing!"

She kept repeating to herself like someone fighting a powerful spell.

But her traitorous body remembered too well: the firm pressure of his mouth, the possessive grip of his hands at her waist, the way her pulse had stuttered when he had pulled her close.

"Gosh! Things were going too fast."

She was still thinking when a sudden knock on the door sounded, cutting off her spiral thoughts.

"Who is that?"

She called out even though she already guessed who was at the door.

Without saying anything, she straightened and strode to the door to pull it open. And there he was, Damien Blackwood, standing right outside. Isla's throat went a little tighter.

For a second, neither of them moved.

Then, still without a word, she turned and walked back inside, leaving the door open. She heard him step in and the door closing again.

Damien leaned against the doorframe, watching her with that infuriating half-smile.

Then, with a sharp spin, she turned around to face him, flashing accusing eyes.

"We need rules," Isla snapped.

Damien's eyebrow arched. "Do enlighten me."

"What you did back there was not good enough, I just want to know why you kissed me like that...you took me by surprise. You know you can't just..."

"Touching my wife?" Damien pushed off the door, advancing with predatory grace. "That wasn't a surprise, Isla. It was strategy."

"Strategy?"

"To make them believe." He stopped just inches away, close enough that she caught the subtle spice of his cologne. "Unless you would prefer the world sees this marriage for the farce it is?"

Her breath hitched. "There are other ways-"

"None as convincing." His gaze dropped to her mouth. "And none that infuriate Nate quite so effectively."

The mention of her ex was a slap. Isla stiffened, but Damien wasn't finished.

"God I hate this." She whispered.

She hated how he always appeared a step ahead of everyone. How effortlessly he always seemed in control.

He closed the remaining distance, his voice dropping to a velvet murmur. "If we're doing this, you need to commit. No flinching when I touch you." His fingers brushed her waist, igniting sparks where they grazed. "No hesitation when I kiss you." His breath warmed her ear as he whispered, "And no running when this gets... complicated."

Every nerve in her body came alive.

She should've stepped back. Should've shoved him away. Instead, she held her ground, her chin lifting in defiance even as her pulse raced.

"Fine," she bit out. "But I want answers. Why me? You could've chosen anyone."

Damien's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Because you're Nate's greatest mistake-the one prize he can never reclaim."

Nate's greatest mistake?

What did he mean? And Just how deep did the rift between him and Nate go?

After some time, she hummed, nodded once, and responded in a much lower tone. "Well, next time, no surprises,"

Damien smirked, his expression still not hiding his amusement.

"Fair enough." He nodded back.

Damien's eyes stayed for a moment longer, as if testing her limits, before finally pulling back with deliberate slowness.

Then, without another word, he left the room, leaving her standing there.

Isla stood back frozen, staring blankly at the spot where he had just left.

A few seconds after Damien left, Isla remained still, staring at the same door as the same set of questions kept repeating.

Then, finally, she let out a resigned sigh; she turned, went near the bed, and collapsed on it.

She let her head fall back, closing her eyes briefly as if that alone could strip her mind of everything.

She needed some distraction.

She reached for her phone, unlocked it with a swipe, and started to scroll search for anything that wasn't Damien Blackwood.

But the moment the screen lit up, her face cracked.

A flood of notifications filled up her screen, an overwhelming heap of messages, tags, and mentions that made her abdomen ache.

The internet was on fire.

And it was on fire with the very things she was just trying to avoid. Her name and that of Damien were everywhere. Hundreds of people had tagged her.

Notifications were flashing with an absurd number of alerts.

And as she reluctantly opened social media, the barrage of headlines and accompanying posts left her stunned.

Pictures from her red carpet with Damien were plastered across the internet, capturing every moment in agonizing detail.

Particularly the moment when Damien had kissed her.

"Good gracious!"

She murmured as she scrolled down, the comments were even worse.

"That didn't take long. Someone's got a type."

"How long before this billionaire dumps her too?"

Then Sophia's text appeared:

"Tell me this isn't true, Issy."

Isla's jaw tightened.

She had been through this routine of media storms before when she married Nate, but this one was way more brutal.

The sheer viciousness of their labels was worse than she had anticipated.

Soon, her attention shifted to her call log, her head feeling hot at the sight of the several missed calls.

The numbers belonged to her parents they had both called multiple times.

And seeing what she had just seen, she didn't even have to guess why.

Isla hurled the phone onto the bed like it had burned her. Outside, the city glittered-beautiful, brutal, and utterly indifferent. Somewhere out there, Nate and Vanessa were probably laughing. Somewhere out there, Damien was already three moves ahead.

And here she stood, caught between revenge and ruin, with no idea which side of the line she would land on when this was over.