Chapter 8 The kiss that changed everything

The Blackwood estate, a mini city was bubbling, on this fateful day so many guests, ranging from Politicians, business tycoons, Celebrities and other wealthy and famous people from around the country and even from abroad came to grace the occasion of the elder Mr Blackwood's annual banquet.

Charlotte stood at the edge of the ballroom, feeling painfully out of place as usual in her sleek emerald gown. The soft fabric clung to her curves, the diamonds at her throat heavy with expectation.

She was nothing more than a trophy, a symbol of pride and victory for the "billionaire husband in command," Oliver.

Across the room, Oliver leaned against the bar, a half-empty glass of whiskey dangling from his fingers. His tailored black suit molded to his strong frame, but his mood wasn't anything to write home about which makes it the best time to avoid him.

His jaw was tight, his movements restless.

And glass after glass of whiskey disappeared into him, each one darkening his mood further.

Charlotte tried to keep her distance.

She wove through the sea of laughter and champagne flutes, dodging conversations and curious eyes, hoping that if she kept herself small enough, invisible enough, the evening would end without incident.

But fate had other plans.

A strong hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her backward against a hard chest. She gasped, instinctively struggling, but the familiar scent of expensive cologne and something purely Oliver flooded her senses.

Before she could protest, before she could even breathe, he spun her around - and his mouth crashed down on hers.

Charlotte's mind screamed at her to push him away. Remind him that this was just a contract, a performance.

But her body betrayed her.

The kiss was wild, possessive, leaving no room for thought. His lips moved against hers with a hunger that set her blood on fire.

Around them, the world blurred.

There were gasps from the crowd. Whispers. Flashing cameras.

But none of it mattered.

For one reckless moment, Charlotte let herself fall - into the taste of whiskey on his tongue, the feel of his hand gripping her hip like she might disappear.

When he finally pulled away, she was breathless, dizzy.

Her heart slammed against her ribs, her lips tingling from the force of him.

Oliver's eyes, normally so cold and detached, burned with something darker now. Something raw and dangerous.

"You belong to me, Charlotte," he growled low enough that only she could hear, his breath hot against her ear.

Her breath hitched, a thousand emotions warring inside her.

Was this still a contract?

Or was it something more - something far more dangerous?

Charlotte opened her mouth to speak, but Oliver was already pulling her closer, steering her across the room with an iron grip on her waist. The world blurred past in a whirl of designer gowns and tailored suits, gasps and stares following their every step.

They moved through a side door and into a quiet hallway, the heavy oak shutting out the noise behind them.

Oliver released her, raking a hand through his hair in frustration.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, but the look in his eyes said he wasn't. Not really.

Charlotte leaned back against the wall, her pulse still racing.

"Oliver..." she started, but stopped when she saw the conflict etched on his face.

He stepped closer, his hands braced against the wall on either side of her head, caging her in without touching her.

"You drive me insane," he said hoarsely. "You smile at them, you let them look at you, like you're not mine."

"I didn't..." she began, but he shook his head.

"It doesn't matter." His voice was rough, desperate. "You're mine. Whether you realize it yet or not."

Charlotte swallowed hard, feeling like the ground beneath her feet had vanished.

This wasn't the Oliver she knew - the cold, distant man who had offered her a loveless marriage in exchange for money.

This man was fierce, possessive... dangerous in a whole new way. This was a new version of Oliver and terrifyingly, some part of her didn't hate him.

He leaned in again, his forehead resting against hers, and for a moment, Charlotte thought he might kiss her again.

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth as if she wanted to speak but she held back so she wouldn't say something that would change everything between them.

Her eyes remained shut and her mouth remained open as she placed her hands on Oliver's chest and waited for the kiss.

But footsteps echoed down the hall.

Oliver stiffened. His eyes flickered toward the noise, his entire body tensing.

Charlotte turned her head just in time to see a woman approaching. She was tall, stunning, and dressed in a blood-red gown that hugged her every curve. She was so beautiful and dressed like she was going to seduce a man.

The woman's eyes locked onto Oliver, an unfriendly smile playing at her lips. A smile that spoke of history, of secrets.

"Oliver," she purred, voice dripping with familiarity. "Long time no see."

Oliver smirked,took a few steps backwards and started to exchange glances between both ladies.

Charlotte stood still like a statue, eager to know what the woman wanted from Oliver.

The woman's gaze slid to her, assessing her from head to toe with a look of amusement.

And in that moment, Charlotte realized whoever this woman was, she wasn't just a guest.

She was a threat.

To Charlotte's marriage.

To her heart.

And maybe... to everything she thought she understood about Oliver Blackwood.

She smiled back at the woman in such an unfriendly way, returning her own energy. Although she doesn't know what the woman intended to do.