You’re Not A Pawn, Riley King

Damien

As soon as we leave Callum and Bianca standing there, I can feel Riley's pulse quicken. She's keeping it together, playing the part, but I know she wasn't expecting that little confrontation. 

Neither was Callum. 

His face was priceless—furious, stunned, completely off balance. And Bianca? Well, I've seen that smug look of hers falter before, but it's always satisfying to watch it crumble again.

I smirk to myself as I lead Riley toward our table, keeping her close. Every eye in the room is on us, exactly the way I planned. This luncheon isn't just about making a show; it's about cementing our position as the new power couple. 

Riley's hand rests lightly on my arm, and I can feel the tension in her grip, though she's trying to mask it. She's doing well—better than most would in her position—but I can tell that seeing Callum and Bianca shook her more than she'd like to admit.

"Relax," I murmur softly, glancing down at her as we approach our seats. "They're watching us, and you're doing great. Better than great."

Her lips twitch into a small smile, but I can see the way her mind is still spinning. "You didn't have to defend me like that," she says quietly. "I could've handled Bianca."

I stop, turning to face her, and gently take her hand in mine. I can feel her eyes on me, searching for my motive, but I'm not here to play games with her. 

"Maybe you could've. But I'm not Callum. I'm not going to let people like her insult you, especially not in front of me. I don't tolerate disrespect."

Her eyes widen just a fraction, and for a moment, I see something flicker in them—something almost vulnerable. It's gone as quickly as it appeared, but it's there. 

She's not used to this, to someone actually defending her. Callum obviously never did, and that's where he failed. He didn't see what he had in her. But I do.

I smile and pull out her chair for her. As we sit, I keep my hand resting lightly on hers, not letting her drift too far away. I can feel the eyes on us, the whispers swirling around the room as people watch, curious about the new dynamic we've brought into the social scene. 

I raise her hand to my lips, brushing a light kiss against her knuckles. It's part of the act, of course—playing into the role of the devoted couple. But the way her breath hitches, the way her eyes briefly meet mine before she looks away, tells me there's something more there, even if she doesn't want to admit it yet.

People around us are trying to figure out what this means—why I'm with her, why Riley King is now on Damien Frost's arm. The gossip is palpable, and I know the whispers are only going to grow.

Good. Let them talk.

I glance down at Riley and cup her cheek with my hand, then I lean in and place a soft kiss to her lips, which I gradually deepen. She melts into me, making a little sound at the back of her throat that I fucking go crazy for.

Fuck, she's addictive.

"So," I say, my voice low as I lean in slightly, my lips close to her ear. "How does it feel to have the upper hand on Callum for once?"

She chuckles softly, shaking her head. "I'm not used to it, to be honest. He's always had control in every situation. This feels … strange."

I tilt my head, studying her for a moment. "Strange, or liberating?"

Her eyes meet mine again, and there's something sharper in her gaze now, something determined. 

"Liberating," she admits quietly. "I've spent too long letting him dictate how things go. This … this is better."

"Good," I say, smirking. "Because that's exactly what I want. You're not a pawn anymore, Riley. You're playing your own game now, and you're winning."

She doesn't respond immediately, but I can see the gears turning in her mind, the way she's processing everything that's happened. I let the silence stretch between us for a moment, watching her closely. 

I reach for her hand, lifting it to my lips. "You're doing well," I murmur against her skin, pressing a light kiss to her knuckles.

She doesn't pull away. Instead, she offers me a small smile, the kind that tells me she's fully aware of the game we're playing. She's not just a piece on the board; she's a player now.

"Am I?" she asks softly, her voice smooth but with a hint of teasing.

I chuckle, lowering her hand but keeping my fingers intertwined with hers. "More than you know."

As we sit, a few familiar faces approach our table—businessmen, investors, people I've worked with before. They all glance at Riley, some with curiosity, others with admiration. I know what they're thinking. 

They're wondering what kind of deal I struck to make this happen.

I glance over at her again, catching the faint smile playing on her lips as she listens to one of the men at the table talk about a recent acquisition. She's not just listening—she's absorbing everything, filing it away for later. 

Smart. She knows that being part of this world means more than just looking good on someone's arm.

After a while, the conversation drifts back to us, as I knew it would.

"So, Damien," one of the men, Richard, says, his eyes flicking between Riley and me. "How did this happen? I didn't think Riley was your type."

I smirk, glancing at Riley before looking back at him. "I don't have a type, Richard. I go after what I want."

Richard chuckles, though there's a hint of discomfort in his laughter. "I see. And what about you, Riley? How's it feel to go from Callum's fiancée to being here with Damien? Quite the upgrade, I'd say."

Riley doesn't miss a beat. She meets Richard's gaze head-on, her smile polite but firm. "I'd say it feels like finally making the right choice. Damien knows how to appreciate a partnership."

Her words land exactly as they should, and I can see the shift in Richard's expression, the realization that Riley is far from the timid woman he expected. She's making it clear that she's not just here to play along—she's here to make her mark.

I squeeze her hand under the table, a silent show of approval. She's doing better than I expected, and I can't help but admire the way she's handling herself. Callum never deserved her. He never saw her for what she truly is. But I do.

As the conversation continues, I keep Riley close, occasionally brushing my fingers against her hand, her arm, her leg. It's all part of the act, but there's something about the way she responds to my touch that feels real. I can feel the tension in her, the way her body reacts to mine, and it only makes me want to push further.

After a while, I decide it's time to step away from the table. I stand, offering my hand to Riley. "Shall we take a walk?"

She nods, slipping her hand into mine as she rises from her chair. As we move through the room, I can feel the weight of every gaze on us, but I don't mind. .

We step outside into the garden, the quiet hum of the city in the distance. It's a stark contrast to the noise of the luncheon, and I can feel Riley relax as we move away from the crowd.

"You handled yourself well back there," I say, glancing at her.

She smirks, meeting my gaze. "I'm getting used to it. But it's not exactly the world I thought I'd be stepping into when I walked out on Callum."

I laugh softly. "No, I imagine it's not. But you're doing more than just stepping into it, Riley. You're taking control."

Before either of us can say anything, a server approaches with champagne, and I take two glasses, handing one to Riley. She accepts it, and we turn to face the room again, watching as the rest of the luncheon unfolds around us. 

Callum and Bianca are still there, lingering on the other side of the room, but I can see that Callum's watching us. His eyes narrow every time I touch Riley, every time I lean in to speak to her.

It's almost too easy.

"Do you think he'll make a move?" Riley asks suddenly, her voice low.

I raise an eyebrow. "Callum?"

She nods, taking a sip of her champagne. "He's not the type to let something like this go."

I smirk, already anticipating Callum's next move. "No, he's not. But whatever he tries, I'll be ready."

Riley doesn't respond right away, but I can see the wheels turning in her mind. She's not just thinking about Callum—she's thinking about what comes next. And that's exactly what I need from her. Someone who's always thinking two steps ahead.

As the luncheon begins to wind down, I keep Riley close, making sure everyone in the room sees us together. Every kiss on her hand, every brush of my fingers against her waist, it's all part of the plan. I'm making it clear to everyone here—Callum included—that she's with me now. 

And the best part? I can tell Riley's starting to enjoy the power this gives her. 

When we make our way toward the exit, I feel her glance up at me again, her expression thoughtful. "You're good at this," she says quietly.

I chuckle, holding the door open for her as we step outside. "I've had practice."

She raises an eyebrow. "Practice with what? Manipulating people?"

"Manipulating," I say with a smirk, "influencing—whatever you want to call it. It's about knowing how to use the cards you're dealt."

"And right now, I'm one of those cards."

I stop walking, turning to face her. She's standing just a few inches away from me, her eyes locked on mine, and I can see the challenge in her gaze. She's not asking because she's unsure—she's asking because she wants to know if I'm going to be honest with her.

"No," I say simply. "You're not just a card in the game this time, Riley. You're a player."

She holds my gaze for a long moment, then nods slowly. "Good."

There's something fierce in her voice, something that tells me she's not just going along with this for the sake of the plan. She wants this. She wants the power, the control, the chance to take back what was taken from her. And I can give her that.

As we walk down the steps of the restaurant, I glance at my phone, already thinking about our next move. Callum won't let this go. He'll try something, and when he does, I'll be ready to strike back.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" I ask, a teasing smile on my lips.

She laughs softly, shaking her head. "No, it wasn't. Honestly, it felt … good. Better than I expected."

I stop, turning to face her, my hand still resting on her back. "You see? This is just the beginning. You have more power than you realize, Riley. And Callum? He's starting to see that, too."

Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of something—something that tells me she's starting to believe it. She's starting to believe in her own power, in her ability to control her own narrative.

And I like that.

Before I can say anything else, I reach for her hand again, bringing it to my lips for another kiss. It's a small gesture, one that's meant to play into the act, but there's something more to it now. I can feel it in the way her breath hitches again, in the way she doesn't pull away.

"I'll have my driver take you home," I say quietly, my lips still close to her skin. "But this isn't the end of our day."

She raises an eyebrow, curiosity flashing in her eyes. "Oh?"

I smirk, dropping her hand gently. "You'll see soon enough. Just keep an eye on your phone, gorgeous."