The Billionaire Who Won’t Let Me Go

“Baby.”

The familiar endearment drifted through the dim room, intimate enough to make Amelia Carter’s heart skip a beat.

She lifted her eyes before she could stop herself.

Dominic Blackwood lounged on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other. His features were sharply defined, almost unnaturally handsome in the low light. His black shirt hung open, exposing a broad chest and the hard lines of his torso. He looked like some ancient god who had stepped out of a myth, except this god wore an expression that suggested he knew exactly what effect he had on her.

Amelia swallowed.

It was a purely instinctive reaction, one she immediately regretted. She pressed her lips together, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing how easily he could unsettle her.

Dominic’s mouth curved into a slow, knowing smile.

“Come here.”

He patted his thigh.

It was the kind of invitation that might have made another woman forget every sensible thought in her head. Amelia, however, took an involuntary step backward.

His smile deepened.

Apparently, her retreat amused him more than it disappointed him.

Dominic rose to his feet. His long strides carried him toward her with unhurried confidence, each step narrowing the distance between them until Amelia had nowhere left to go.

A moment later, her back met the wall.

He planted his hands on either side of her, effectively trapping her without quite touching her. His warmth surrounded her, and his breath brushed the shell of her ear.

A shiver ran down her spine.

“Stop squirming,” he murmured, amusement threading through his low voice. “What are you running from?”

Amelia stubbornly turned her face away.

Dominic caught her chin between his fingers and gently but firmly guided her back toward him.

“I’m not running from anything,” she protested. “It’s just stuffy in here.”

Her eyes met his.

That was a mistake.

There was nothing innocent in Dominic’s gaze. His desire was unmistakable, and the lazy curve of his lips suggested that he knew she had noticed.

He leaned closer, brushing the corner of her mouth with his own.

Barely a touch.

Just enough to make her wonder whether it had happened at all.

“Don’t…” Amelia’s voice dissolved into a breathless protest. A faint blush spread across her cheeks, betraying the composure she was trying so hard to maintain.

Dominic looked thoroughly entertained.

“Besides,” she added hastily, seizing the first excuse she could find, “I got caught in the rain earlier. My clothes are still damp.”

She had forgotten her umbrella when she went out. The rain had been light, but her clothes had clung uncomfortably to her skin ever since.

It was a perfectly reasonable explanation.

At least, she hoped it was.

Before she could say anything else, her feet left the floor.

“Dominic!”

He lifted her as though she weighed nothing and carried her back to the sofa. Settling down, he drew her onto his lap and guided her arms around his neck.

Amelia went rigid.

He laughed softly, clearly pleased with himself.

She was so soft in his arms, her delicate features and innocent expression at odds with the quiet sensuality of her figure. Holding her this close seemed to satisfy some private obsession of his.

For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

Then Dominic lowered his voice.

“Really?”

His lips hovered near her ear.

“Then let me see just how wet you are.”

“Millie! Amelia!”

The urgent voice shattered the dream.

Amelia’s eyes flew open.

For a moment, she stared blankly at the ceiling, her mind still caught somewhere between sleep and memory. Then she rubbed her eyes, blinking away the lingering confusion.

“What is it?” she mumbled, her voice soft and drowsy.

Chloe Bennett stood beside her, looking equal parts exasperated and amused.

“What do you mean, what is it? Director Brooks wants to see you. Now.”

Noticing Amelia’s sleepy expression, Chloe’s irritation quickly faded. There was something almost unfair about how pretty her friend looked even after being dragged out of sleep. Her hair was slightly mussed, her cheeks faintly flushed, and her voice had the soft, unguarded quality of someone who hadn't yet fully returned to the waking world.

“I called you several times,” Chloe said, lowering her voice. “You didn't answer, so I figured you'd fallen asleep.”

“Mm. Got it. Thanks, Chloe.”

Amelia obediently got to her feet and headed for the washroom to splash some water on her face.

Chloe watched her move, shaking her head in silent admiration. Amelia possessed the sort of effortless grace that made even the most ordinary gestures look beautiful.

Then Chloe remembered something.

“Hey. Are you ready for tomorrow night's dinner?”

“Of course.”

Chloe's eyes lit up.

“Finally! I thought you were starting to—”

“I’m going to eat a little less at lunch so I can really enjoy dinner.”

Chloe stopped.

The encouraging smile vanished from her face.

“Millie.”

“What?”

“Do you have any idea what Vanessa Lancaster has been saying?” Chloe demanded. “She's determined to outshine everyone tomorrow night. Especially you.”

Amelia continued washing her face.

Chloe, meanwhile, had plenty more to say.

“Apparently, someone very important is coming. He's one of the most powerful young heirs in Aurelia City, and he has a close relationship with Director Brooks.”

She paused dramatically.

“And he's young. Handsome. The wild, dangerous sort who looks like he knows exactly how to have a good time.”

Amelia reached for a towel.

“Vanessa is practically vibrating with excitement. She's planning some elaborate outfit and has already made it clear that nobody is allowed to steal her spotlight.”

Chloe rolled her eyes.

“We all know what she's after. If she manages to get a man like that interested in her, she'll be strutting around the set like she owns the place. She'll probably think she can ignore Director Brooks himself.”

Chloe's voice rose with every sentence, but most of it passed straight through Amelia's ears.

She was too busy trying to wake herself up, rubbing water over her face beneath the running faucet. The water was cool against her delicate skin, but she barely noticed.

“Is he really that influential?” she asked, mostly to keep Chloe from realizing she hadn't been listening.

“Absolutely! His surname is Blackwood. How many Blackwoods of that standing do you think there are in Aurelia City?”

Chloe leaned closer, lowering her voice as though she were about to reveal a state secret.

“I looked him up online. I'm pretty sure he's Dominic Blackwood—the Blackwood heir who recently returned from studying overseas.”

Amelia's hand froze beneath the faucet.

For a moment, the running water was the only sound in the room.

“Dominic…?” she repeated faintly. “How do you spell his name?”

Chloe blinked, surprised by her sudden interest.

“D-o-m-i-n-i-c. Blackwood. You know, Dominic. Oh, wait—what's the point of spelling it? It's him. The one everyone talks about.”

Amelia's pupils contracted.

She stared at her reflection for two long seconds, then forced herself to move again. She shut off the faucet, dried her hands, and began gathering her belongings as though nothing had happened.

Chloe frowned.

“What are you doing? We still have a scene to finish.”

Amelia gave her a small, sweet smile.

“Running away.”

Chloe stared at her.

“...What?”

“I'm kidding.”

Amelia tucked her things away and turned toward the door.

“I'm going to see Director Brooks.”

But the moment she stepped out of the temporary production tent, her carefully arranged composure began to crack.

She knew her reaction wasn't normal.

A name shouldn't have been enough to make her heart race, to leave her palms cold and her thoughts scattered. It shouldn't have made an ordinary afternoon feel like the opening scene of a nightmare she'd spent two years trying to forget.

Was it a coincidence?

Could there be another Dominic Blackwood?

Or was it really him?

Amelia couldn't bring herself to face Director Brooks in that state. She took out her phone and sent him a message on WhatsApp, explaining that she wasn't feeling well and asking whether she could arrive a little later.

Then she headed for the public washroom.

She needed a few minutes alone. A little time to breathe, to steady her nerves, to remind herself that she was no longer the girl she had been two years ago.

Two years.

The memory of that time still clung to her like damp clothing. She and Dominic had shared a secret history, something no one else knew about. Looking back, the whole experience sometimes felt less like a real chapter of her life than a dream from which she had never completely awakened.

Much like the dream she'd just had.

Memories healed over eventually. The wounds faded, the sharp edges softened, and life moved forward.

Then something as insignificant as a name could tear the scab away.

Amelia stood before the washroom mirror, staring at the young woman looking back at her.

She looked almost exactly the same.

And yet, somehow, she wasn't.

After a moment, she realized she needed to use the restroom.

Unfortunately, the instant she stepped into a stall and closed the door, two familiar female voices drifted in from outside.

One belonged to Vanessa Lancaster.

The other was her ever-present companion.

“It's unbearably hot today,” Vanessa complained in an exaggeratedly sweet voice. “I can't believe Director Brooks didn't arrange for better air-conditioning. The least he could have done was bring in some fans.”

“Oh, Vanessa, that's hardly a problem! You're playing the female lead in this production. You're practically guaranteed to become famous. Just remember us when you're rich and successful!”

Vanessa laughed delicately.

“We've only just started filming. There's still a long way to go.”

She paused, then added with unmistakable excitement, “Honestly, all I can think about is tomorrow night. I can't wait to see Mr. Blackwood.”

Her companion gave an excited little gasp.

“Dominic Blackwood? You know him personally?”

Vanessa's voice turned coy.

“We had a private encounter on a yacht once. Let's just say we got to know each other rather well.”

She let the implication hang in the air.

“I've never quite forgotten him. And, honestly, I owe him a great deal. Without his help, I probably wouldn't have landed the female lead in this production.”

“Oh, Vanessa! You're gorgeous. Of course he'll remember you!”

Amelia's fingers tightened around the edge of the stall door.

She had come in hoping to calm down. Instead, she had stumbled into a conversation that made her stomach twist for reasons she didn't want to examine.

The door swung open with a sharp bang.

Both women jumped.

Amelia stepped out of the stall.

Vanessa turned, irritation flashing across her face when she recognized her.

“Oh. It's you.”

Her gaze traveled over Amelia with open disdain.

“I thought it might be someone important. I should have known better. It's only our fourth-billed actress.”

Amelia had no intention of wasting her energy on her.

She lowered her eyes and walked past them, moving quickly toward the exit.

Unfortunately, Vanessa wasn't finished.

“What's the matter? Can't take a little criticism? Running away like a frightened rabbit?”

Amelia kept walking.

Behind her, Vanessa let out an annoyed scoff.

The slender figure disappeared through the doorway, leaving Vanessa to roll her eyes in disgust.

So full of herself, she thought. Just because she's pretty, she thinks she's better than everyone else.

In Vanessa's eyes, Amelia was nothing more than an extra with a few attractive features and no meaningful connections.

A nobody.

By the time Amelia finally arrived at Director Brooks's office, she had managed to pull herself together.

Brooks was seated beside the sofa, studying a stack of production documents with considerable concentration.

“Director Brooks,” Amelia greeted him politely.

He looked up.

“There you are. Feeling better?”

“A little. I think the heat got to me.”

“Can't blame you. It's sweltering out there.” He glanced toward the window. “I'll ask my assistant to bring some fans to the set.”

Amelia thanked him, though a small question lingered in the back of her mind.

Director Brooks seemed unusually considerate toward her.

She couldn't imagine why.

Then again, she was technically the fourth-billed actress in the production. Her role wasn't particularly large, but it was hardly insignificant, either.

She had landed the part almost by accident.

For years, Amelia had drifted between productions at Fairmont Film Studios, taking whatever minor roles she could find. Her appearance attracted attention, and more than a few people had offered to help advance her career.

Some of those offers had come with unmistakable expectations.

She had rejected every one of them.

She would rather remain an unknown actress than trade her dignity for a few lines in someone else's production.

This current project was called The Billionaire's Runaway Bride.

The title alone was enough to make her wince. It sounded like one of those over-the-top billionaire romances she'd read years ago, all possessive heroes, helpless heroines, and dialogue that made her want to hide behind a pillow.

What she hadn't expected was that Director Brooks, a middle-aged man who seemed far too respectable for such a production, would be the one directing it.

Still, a job was a job.

“Come over here and sit down,” Brooks said, gesturing toward the sofa.

The invitation made Amelia hesitate.

For one absurd second, the dream flashed through her mind again.

Come here.

Sit down.

She pressed her lips together and walked to the opposite sofa, choosing the seat farthest from him.

Brooks seemed not to notice.

Instead, he handed her the documents he had been reviewing.

“Take a look at these.”

Amelia accepted them.

Her eyes widened when she realized she was holding the script for the female lead.

She looked up.

“Director Brooks?”

“Here's the situation.” He leaned back, folding his hands. “We've been filming for several days now, and I've been paying attention to everyone's performance. I think you have the right look and temperament for the lead role.”

He paused to let that sink in.

“If you're willing, I'd like to switch your role with Vanessa's. You would play the female lead, and she would take your current part. What do you think?”

Amelia lowered her eyes to the script.

She read the highlighted dialogue.

Lucas Whitmore, I know I'm irresistible, but that doesn't give you the right to take possession of me!

She turned the page.

Lucas! Ah! Don't kiss me there! Don't!

Amelia nearly recoiled.

Good Lord.

She could practically feel goose bumps rising along her arms.

When she looked up again, she had managed to arrange a polite smile on her face.

“Thank you for thinking so highly of me, Director Brooks. I'm genuinely grateful for the opportunity. But we've already started filming, and changing the leads now would create a great deal of extra work. Everyone has worked so hard. I don't want to cause unnecessary disruption.”

Brooks studied her for a moment.

He didn't look particularly surprised by her answer, though a trace of disappointment crossed his expression.

“All right,” he said at last. “I won't force you.”

That had been the reason he'd called her in. Now that the matter was settled, Amelia was free to leave.

She thanked him once more and walked out.

The office fell silent behind her.

For several seconds, Brooks remained seated, staring at the closed door.

Then he reached for his phone.

The number he dialed was unusually memorable, the kind of number that announced its owner's status before he even answered.

The call connected almost immediately.

“Mr. Blackwood,” Brooks said, his tone turning deferential. “About the actress you asked me to promote…”

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully.

“She doesn't want the female lead. I've tried to persuade her, but there's only so much I can do.”

Silence answered him.

Brooks waited.

A few seconds later, a low, lazy voice came through the phone.

“Oh?”

It was a simple sound, almost careless.

But beneath that rich, dangerously smooth voice, there was something else—something that made Brooks instinctively straighten in his seat.

And somewhere beyond the walls of the production office, Amelia Carter remained blissfully unaware that the man she had spent two years trying to forget had already begun rearranging the world around her.

The worst part?

He hadn't even needed to see her yet.

It took less than half a day for the dinner to become the hottest topic on the production set.

Director Brooks had specifically requested the company of several of the production's prettiest actresses, including Vanessa Lancaster and Amelia Carter. The offer came with an unusually generous appearance fee—several thousand dollars for a single evening—and a promise that the guests' personal safety would be taken seriously.

For struggling actresses who could barely afford their rent, that kind of money was difficult to refuse.

“Why do you think Mr. Blackwood is coming all the way out here?” one woman whispered. “He only returned from overseas recently. Why would someone like him bother coming to a film studio in the middle of nowhere just to have dinner with Director Brooks?”

“Maybe he's looking for a mistress,” another suggested. “What else would a man like that want with a bunch of actresses?”

“Don't be ridiculous. Someone of his status doesn't need to c