Darkly His: The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée
WARNING ⚠️: This book contains sex scenes and mature contents not fit for readers below 18+.
If you love steamy romances and emotional stories, this book is the one.
By day, Damon follows her rules in the kitchen: chopping, kneading, burning his fingers, and surviving her sharp mouth.
By night, she follows his.
Damon Blackwell is a cold, dangerous billionaire who hates Christmas, women, and anything that smells like joy. Haunted by tragedy and trauma, and memories of the girl he once loved and lost, he lives like a machine: money, control, and pleasure without attachment.
Then his grandparents and three ruthless brothers dare him to do the impossible:
Live like a normal man for 12 days to Christmas: no staff, no luxuries, no protection, no control and no bad temper. He has to change and be easygoing with investors.
Fail, and he loses the biggest business deal of his life.
Indulgence is over for him.
The only place Damon knows he can grab survival? A small-town Christmas cooking competition hosted by that one woman who broke his heart years ago.
Merry Steele never expected to see Damon again. The man she left without a word. The man who haunted her dreams after she broke his heart back now stands in her kitchen offering a deal she can't refuse:
Cook for him. Sleep with him. Pretend to be his fiancée until the end of the year.
The pay is tempting. The temptation is even greater.
Before Christmas, can they resist the heat, desire, and lingering love they once shared and keep it strictly business?
As family obligations, enemies, and a high-profile Christmas ball close in, Damon and Merry must correct old heartbreak, passion, and dangerous feelings.
Will Damon ever forgive his fuckmate?
Can Merry resist the billionaire who once stole her heart... or will old flames burn hotter than ever under the snow, the lights, and the Christmas feelings?
Chapters
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Chapter 1
Twelve days before Christmas, she lay beside him, back against his chest, his arms around her-warm, safe, perfect. Snow fell against the window.
His heart was racing. She felt it.
"Baby, are you okay?" she whispered.
"Yeah." Too fast.
His eyes stayed on the ceiling, jaw tight.
"You vomited. Talk to me."
"I'm fine. Just a fever."
She touched his chest. He caught her hand, then let it fall.
"We should talk-" She began.
"Don't."
"I shouldn't care?"
"I have too much going on."
"About me?"
"No."
But she knew.
The silence hurt.
"Do you still love me? Like you said? " She asked.
He turned to the window, staring at the snow.
****
****
The next night, she went to his off-campus apartment. He was packing.
"You're leaving?"
"Going home for Christmas."
"You weren't going to tell me?"
"I didn't want reactions."
"I'm your girlfriend."
"You're making this hard. You always want more than I can give?"
"So you're ending it?"
"I need space. You want more than I can give."
"So you don't want a future with me?"
"I don't know. Not like this."
Her voice broke. He didn't move.
"Say it," she whispered. "Say you don't want me."
"I think it's better if we stop."
She nodded and walked out into the cold.
She blocked his number an hour later.
Life didn't wait. Her father's health worsened. Rent was overdue. Her sister panicked. There was no time, no way to reach him afterhe left, no space to cry well.
She packed and left.
The day before they moved, her father asked from his wheelchair, "Where's that campus boy? He's not been visiting."
"We're not together anymore."
"He left?" he asked gently.
She broke. "Yes.... I hate him, Dad."
He held her as she cried. "Don't lose yourself."
But she already had.
****
****
Late that night, she stood behind the kitchen door and dialed his number.
Once. Twice. Ten times. Twenty.
It went straight to voicemail. Every single time.
"Please pick up," she whispered into the phone. "Please... just tell me you didn't mean it."
Nothing.
She tried again. Again. Again.
Still nothing.
Her heart cracked slowly.
Fine, she told herself hours later. If he didn't want her anymore... she would not beg.
She blocked the number with trembling fingers. Deleted their chats. Deleted their pictures. Deleted herself from every app he could find her on.
Then she wiped her little tears with the back of her hand and lied to herself:
"There was no future for us. We needed to let go."
But the truth burned inside her like salt in a wound. She was breaking and she didn't want him to leave. She didn't want to leave either but she couldn't wait for someone like him.
****
****
He called her back weeks later.
No answer.
Again. Nothing.
He checked her socials. Gone. Blocked.
No one at the university could reach her.
Anger burned through him-at her, at himself, at every word he didn't say when she asked if they were okay.
He slammed the steering wheel once and whispered, "I'm so fucking sorry... You didn't even let me try again."
He told himself she should've waited.
But he knew the truth.
He had pushed her away first.
****
****
On Christmas Day, he returned with wrapped gifts, a letter, and rehearsed apologies. Snow covered the street as he stood at her door and knocked.
Silence.
Again. Nothing.
He turned the knob. The door opened.
The house was empty. Furniture gone. Curtains gone. Dead like she'd never existed.
He stood there holding gifts that suddenly felt foolish. A snowflake drifted in and landed on his hair. He didn't move. He just stared at the hollow space where her life had been.
He whispered her name once.
Then he closed the door gently, drove to his grandparents' home, and said nothing.
He didn't cry.
But something inside him broke.
****
****
The cold came first. His teeth chattered, hands shook, chest burned. Sweat soaked his skin despite the freezing wind. Dizziness followed. Nausea. Pain.
When his grandparents tried to help, he shouted and pushed them away, proud and terrified. His body gave out anyway. He vomited on the floor, vision blurring.
His father's voice barked through the phone, ordering him to the hospital. Damon refused-until he couldn't.
Too weak to stand, too cold to argue, he was carried outside. The wind burned into his lungs as they eased him into the car, holding him steady while his father's angry words echoed in the night.
****
****
He only heard the sirens and felt unbelievably cold.
He heard nothing at first only the strange beep that came when pain was too much for the body to understand. His head had hit the car window. Hard.
He could taste blood now.
So much blood in his mouth.
Someone was shouting, but the sound was beginning to drift away, like it was sounding from another far world.
Then his dream opened.
A soft, feminine laugh.
Snowflakes in the beautiful girl's hair.
Her mouth on his.
Sex.
Countless orgasms, the arguments, the reconciliations, her sweetness, her kindness.
Their breaths tangled.
Her body clinging to him in a warmth that made his body ache and love.
Then, the memories came too fast - the way she whispered his name when she came, the way he looked at and felt about her like she was the only safe thing he had ever held. Her tears and her worry.
They flashed like lightning. Too bright. Too close. Too cute.
He tried to grab her.
But the scenes scattered immediately.
He saw himself at her door with gifts, hand lifting to knock. Snow falling behind him. His heart pounding.
The door opened.
Empty.
An endless, dark house swallowing him whole.
"-BP dropping! He's crashing!"
The doctor's voice cut through the dream, panicked and sharp.
But he wasn't even in the hospital.
He was too far away now.
The emptiness stretched into darkness, and out of the dark came faces he knew too well.
His grandmother. His grandfather.
Then when the light came, his grandmother's bloody head was pressed back against the crushed front seat, neck twisted at a wrong, impossible angle.
Blood ran down her temple. Her eyes were open in horror, mouth agape in her final moment of prayer. Staring. Staring at him.
"No...." Damon whispered inside the dream. But he had no voice.
He fought. He tried to scream but he was paralyzed.
His body convulsed.
A seizure shook him, and the world became white.
There was a loud beeping sound.
His pale, physical body was being pushed in a shiny hospital.
"Heartbeat is unstable!"
"He's not responding."
"He's in shock."
"He's gone- he's gone! Oh my god."
"Son! Son, open your eyes! No!"
Those last words were the only ones his dream-self understood.
Dead. He was dead.
A coldness swept through him, swallowing her smile, sweet memories with his grandparents, his grandmother's bloody face, the empty house, the loud scary noises, the snow.
Then everything went black.
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8.6
It was my birthday, but instead of celebrating, I was bleeding on the floor of my own bedroom. My sister Serena had just smashed a champagne bottle over my legs, her eyes filled with a dark madness because our father allowed me to wear the family diamonds.
To escape her, I bolted into a pitch-black guest suite, only to be grabbed by a man who felt like a wall of solid muscle. He was drugged, unstable, and pinned me against the wall, his teeth sinking into my neck in a primal claim that left a permanent mark.
I managed to flee, but the nightmare was just beginning. My father didn't care about my injuries; he only cared that I had "insulted" the man in that room—Delos French, the most powerful CEO in New York. He threatened to stop paying for my mother’s critical care facility unless I went to Delos and begged for his forgiveness.
My brother Julian was even worse, intentionally pouring scalding coffee over my bandaged wounds just to see me flinch. They forced me into a revealing gold dress, treating me like a high-priced commodity to be sold to the highest bidder to save their failing company.
I didn't understand how the people who were supposed to love me could be more predatory than the monster in the dark. I had spent my life fixing their scandals, yet they were ready to throw me to the wolves the moment I became useful as a pawn.
But when I stood before Delos French at his gala, he didn't see a trophy. He recognized my scent, my touch, and the fire in my eyes. He trapped me in his private lounge, kneeling to clean the blood from my injured feet.
"Marry me," he whispered, his voice a low, terrifying growl. "And I will give you the power to burn your family to the ground."
I looked into the eyes of the man who had hunted me and realized he was the only one offering me a weapon to destroy the people who had broken me.
"Okay," I whispered.
8.9
For three years, Alana acted as the sole tactical brain for the Dawnbreaker squad, keeping them alive despite being labeled a useless "Dud" Conduit.
But right before the crucial Ascension Trials, squad leader Cash handed her a corporate sponsorship contract. The condition? She had to become the "private companion" to a greasy corporate heir just so the squad could get high-tier gear.
When she refused, the teammates she had bled for unanimously voted to kick her out.
"You're just window dressing, a liability."
They revoked her safehouse access, burned her belongings, and the academy advisor even tried to force her into a state-sanctioned breeding program. They left her to freeze in the slums, betting she would desperately crawl into the rich man's bed.
What they didn't know was that her inability to summon an Eidolon wasn't a lack of talent. Her teammate Dallin had been secretly sabotaging her rituals for years, crippling her potential just to keep her chained as their free tactician.
Stripped of everything and pushed to the absolute brink, Alana's despair morphed into a deadly resolve.
Using a million-credit black market loan and a forbidden blood matrix, she forcibly anchored an Apex-Tier cosmic wolf disguised as a harmless silver pup.
When her ex-squad tried to publicly humiliate her and burn her new "pet" alive in the cafeteria, a flash of silver light severed Dallin's hand instantly.
Looking at her screaming former teammates, Alana finally smiled.
8.4
Everything in Chris' world changes when he meets Kate.
Chris Cena who is a young billionaire CEO controls one of the most powerful empires built by his late father.
Chris lives under the shadow of his mother, Elisabeth Cena. The ruthless woman who once ruled the empire before handing it to him.
Kate Milmar who is brillant, sensual and emotionally guarded moves confidently among powerful men without ever allowing herself to belong to any of them.
When she publicly challenges a wealthy client, her fearless defiance immediately captures Chris's attention.
Chris offers her a dangerous proposal for her to leave her world and exclusively belong to him.
As their attraction grows slowly, Kate notices strange cracks in the history of the Cena Empire. Chris's father died suddenly years earlier and in the aftermath, Elisabeth took control of the company briefly before passing it to her son.
What once seemed like a normal transition begins to look suspicious as Kate uncovers missing records, hidden documents and a mysterious change in the company's will.
Elisabeth sees Kate as a threat to both her son and the legacy she had built and a silent war begins between the two women .
Chris gets caught between his loyalty to his mother and the growing feelings he has for Kate.
9.3
"Adrian, why would you lie to me? Why would you let her push my mum like that?"
Yvonne's voice trembled, holding back tears.
Adrian smirked. "Wake up, Yvonne. You really thought I wanted you when Tricia was right here?"
That was how Adrian-her first crush, the boy she thought cared-chose to humiliate her in front of everyone as she was the cleaner's adopted daughter.
But fate had other plans.
Because the Diamond Belfort brothers-the heirs everyone adored were coming to their school in search of their missing heiress- baby sister. But the queen bee steals the chance that should have been hers. Then again, secrets don't stay buried forever. With her true identity waiting to explode, Yvonne must decide to rise from the ashes, claim her place, and bring down everyone who tried to destroy her.
Because the real heiress doesn't beg.
She takes rather.
Now, Yvonne is done playing small. It's her time to rise, reclaim her crown, and make everyone regret ever doubting her.
7.9
Eileen Goff was a nobody, scrubbing diner tables to survive while her greedy family bled her dry.
On the eve of her twentieth birthday, the government's mandatory marriage algorithm matched her with a spouse.
It wasn't a plumber or a teacher. It was Harrison Butler, the ruthless, untouchable billionaire king of Butler Industries.
At the registry, Harrison's glamorous intended fiancée threw a half-million-dollar check at her.
"Take the money, get out of here, and never show your face again."
The registry supervisor even offered her a million dollars to sign a cancellation agreement, trying to erase her from the system.
At their first high-society gala, Harrison's stepmother and the fiancée locked Eileen in an empty room, plotting to humiliate her and prove she was just cheap trash.
Eileen was terrified and confused. Men like Harrison Butler didn't just accept federal matches with girls who smelled like fried onions.
But instead of abandoning her, Harrison smashed the door open, publicly banished his own family, and kissed her in front of the entire city's elite.
Why was this billionaire going to such extreme lengths to protect a complete stranger?
Then she overheard his assistant talking about a marriage clause in his grandfather's trust fund.
He didn't love her; he just needed a powerless, state-mandated wife to lock his parasitic family out of his empire.
Realizing she was a highly valuable pawn, Eileen stopped trembling, looked the billionaire in the eye, and spoke.
"I believe we can have more than just a legal relationship. We can have a business arrangement."
7.7
Silas Vane, a billionaire on the edge of ruin, needs his ex-wife's signature to save his tech empire-and June Ashby, his scorned orchard-owning ex, wants only one thing: to make him suffer.
The deal is brutal, simple, and non-negotiable: Silas must move back to their small hometown, trade his silk suits for calloused hands, and work the orchard harvest for six months. Worse? He has to play her doting husband for the press-fake marriage, real contract, no room for error.
What starts as a revenge-fueled game quickly spirals. As the sun dips below the orchard trees, old sparks reignite, and the line between fake and real blurs into something dangerous.
Silas came to town for a patent to save his empire. But he might just walk away with a broken contract-and a heart completely owned by the woman who set out to destroy him.