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
Share
Chapter 8
Damon's stepgrandmother, stepmom, sister, and aunt sipped tea at the stone table.
Damon, Michael, and Osbourne were talking inside.
Naomi was trying to keep things lively, but Emily kept huffing, snapping, and using her phone.
"I love that you smell so nice also, Merrilyn...." Naomi was saying when Emily interrupted.
"She doesn't really like Damon, does she? Just money. Free sex."
Merry paused, glass to her lip.
"Excuse me?"
"Come on, you think I don't know you...?"
"What...?"
"I seriously do not like you. All you whores fawning over my brother."
"Emily!" Naomi exclaimed while Tracy rolled her eyes.
Surprisingly, Merry smiled and sipped her wine before staring Emily back down, eye to eye.
"I don't need your liking, Miss Blackwell and I do not know you. Keep it that way. Don't play with me."
Emily looked defeated but she quipped.
"Too hard to like all you ladies who sleep with my brother, isn't it?"
Merry narrowed her eyes and smiled softly.
"Sounds like a personal issue."
A car door clicked in the driveway.
"That must be Thomas and Jacqueline." Naomi said, tense.
Moments later, Thomas appeared with his wife on his arm, toddlers toddling ahead-one clutching a stuffed reindeer, the other dragging a blanket and a drawing.
"Hi, everyone!" Jacqueline called, radiant in a simple, stylish dress, her California-mom glow effortless.
The women rose, exchanging hugs like a practised ritual.
"You all look lovely," Jacqueline said. "The garden looks especially beautiful today."
Thomas shook Merry's hand and hugged the older women.
The toddlers bolted toward the flowerbeds.
"Derek! Rosa! Don't pick anything!" Jacqueline warned without turning.
Thomas checked his watch. "We won't stay long. I have a call soon."
"And I need to finish my chapter before five," Jacqueline added with a playful roll of her eyes. "Deadlines don't care about Christmas."
Naomi chuckled. "You're still writing?"
"Trying," Jacqueline said, smoothing her hair. "Stop for a day, and I lose rhythm completely."
Merry blinked.
"A good life makes it easier to write, not harder."
Thomas gestured toward the house. "Let's say hi to Damon before he pretends he didn't see us."
"I should join him," Merry said, picking up her wine and meeting Emily's swickedeyes.
Across the garden, the toddlers raced ahead. Damon sat on the patio, laptop open, absorbed in work. Merry curled beside him, watching, studying.
The twins pounced first.
"Hi, UNCLE DAMON! LOOK WHAT WE MADE!"
Damon caught one mid-jump, still focused.
"Easy. I'm working."
Rosa tugged his sleeve, showing a scribbled drawing. Damon gave a tight, amused smile.
Jacqueline swooped in, patting his back. He nodded, then hugged Thomas.
"Okay, okay-let's give him space."
Jacqueline moved the kids smoothly. Merry hid a smile behind her glass.
Jacqueline leaned toward her. "Mind if I borrow you for a minute before we leave?"
"Sure."
They stepped into a quieter corner, sunlight filtered through vines and fairy lights.
"You smell lovely," Jacqueline said, grinning. "Perfect for this weather. And Merry? Your name fits the season. Very on-brand."
Merry blushed. "Thank you."
"Don't mind Emily," Jacqueline added with a wave. "Her mouth outruns her sense most days. Sweetheart... somewhere."
Merry giggled. "Thanks for the tip."
Jacqueline rested against a pergola post. "Heads-up-Damon doesn't like everyone. Especially Naomi. Don't read into his cold shoulders. He's... particular."
Merry nodded. "I'm only here for business."
Jacqueline studied her. "I used to be Thomas' assistant. Stoic men... they bring out something in women-not attraction, just instinct, nurture, patience."
Merry absorbed it.
"So what's Damon's problem?" she asked quietly.
Jacqueline's eyes softened. "Only he can talk about that. I hope he opens up. Nobody knows. But, don't pity him."
Merry frowned. "Is he... sick?"
Before Jacqueline could answer, a sharp voice cut through the garden:
"Merry Steele."
She spun. Damon stood a few steps behind, hands in his pockets, jaw tight. Cold.
"We're leaving," he said. "Sorry, Jacqueline."
Jacqueline gave her a reassuring smile. "Go on. We'll catch up some other time."
They walked back toward the women. Merry thanked them politely.
Naomi Blackwell surprised her with a soft hug.
"Wish you wonderful times, dear."
Merry blinked, smiling awkwardly. "Thanks, ma'am."
Emily scooped up her purse. "Quick date with the girls-heading out." She almost hugged Merry, they both froze and jumped back mid-motion, then hissed. "Fuck you."
Merry rolled her eyes. "Sure."
Emily winked and hurried off.
Damon stood apart, flat, cold impatience written across his face.
Merry cat-walked toward him. Behind her, Jacqueline called the kids, who ran up, hugged his legs, and planted tiny kisses. Damon ruffled their hair, barely softening.
Thomas whistled, and they ran off.
Damon strode ahead into the house. Merry followed.
"Stop glaring at me like I'm not allowed to say goodbye. It's embarrassing!"
No answer.
He kept walking-up the stairs, through silent halls lined with gold, portraits and holiday wreaths.
Merry stopped halfway, fuming. "I'm not moving until you-"
Damon turned, reaching her in two quick strides.
Then, his mouth was on hers before she could speak again. Hard, deep, hungry. Her back hit the wall. His hands caged her hips and caressed her breasts.
Damon was beginning to let her round breasts out of her sweater and bending over, ready to suckle.
Footsteps echoed faintly from the lower floors. Workers. Voices.
Panicked, she tried to push him, fighting away from the kiss.
A familiar kiss that her body had begun to ache for.
"Damon-stop.... Someone will...."
"Do you want it here? " he murmured against her lips, "or in my room?"
"Damon-!"
He didn't wait.
He lifted her effortlessly and carried her into the nearest room, kicking the door shut behind them.
Her heart pounded.
He set her on the bed like she weighed nothing.
His eyes looked troubled.
"You should stay focused on your work only," he growled calmly.
Merry pushed him back and got to her feet but his hand went around her throat, sitting her back on the bed.
"You don't own me." She whispered.
His kiss was rough, and Merry reciprocated.
Pushing and pulling him at the same time letting him pleasure her, letting him grip her wildly.
Clothes peeled off their bodies and soon they were tangled on the soft bed.
Merry tried to focus. Tried to not see images of them in the past. Tangled.
Damon moved inside her.
Hard. Fast.
Emotionlessly.
It was a worried sex. One that seemed like an exciting escape for Damon Blackwell.
When Merry's neck arched in her state of maddening, approaching orgasm, he kissed her throat and she lost it.
Her fingers dug into his shoulder. His grip on her wrist instinctively tightened, pinning her.
"Damon! Oh my god, I'm coming." She cried softly.
"Stay! That's it, Steele. Come for me." He growled.
She did.
His hands, breath, heat, the bed creaking beneath too much emotion packed into too small a space.
When it was over, the silence was heavier than before.
Damon pulled away first.
Merry lay there, chest rising, eyes open, already understanding what this had been.
Not closeness.
Escape.
"We need to leave."
Keep Reading
The story is getting intense! Switch to App to
Unlock All Chapters
You may also like
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.