Chapter 5 - Scarlet Scandal

Amelia’s POV

"I don’t remember exactly what happened," I confessed, my voice low as I stirred my coffee with unnecessary force. 

"I remember kisses. Passionate ones. And then... it just goes blank. But I assume we slept together."

Across from me, Elizabeth nearly choked on her drink. Her eyes widened, but they sparkled with a hint of amusement. 

"Already moving on, huh? I’m surprised, Amelia. You never struck me as the one-night stand type."

I gave her a scandalized look and a playful shove. "Oh, no—Liz, you’ve got it all wrong! You really think I’d just hook up with some random guy who cornered me in a hotel hallway?"

She raised a brow. "I don’t know... Post-breakup meltdowns do strange things to people."

I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the storm still brewing inside me. "He wore the Lancaster crest. I felt it on his chest. That emblem doesn’t lie—it must have been Tristan."

Her expression fell. "Oh..."

That one syllable carried a whole avalanche of disappointment.

"What?" I asked.

"Honestly? Sleeping with Tristan sounds worse than a mysterious stranger sweeping you off your feet."

I rolled my eyes. "Liz..."

She wasn’t wrong. But still, the idea that it hadn’t been Tristan—that some stranger had kissed me like that, held me like that—was even more terrifying. 

I needed to believe it had been him. I needed to cling to some kind of logic.

But then I remembered the call.

"The strange thing is," I said slowly, eyes narrowing as I replayed the conversation in my mind, "Tristan called me this morning. And he acted like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t seen me at all. He even told me not to come to the wedding."

Liz sat up straight, all traces of humor gone. "He did WHAT now?!"

I sighed, burying my face in my hands. "I don’t understand it either."

Liz was quiet for a moment, then her voice turned sharp. 

"You have to go to the wedding. You deserve answers, Amelia. You deserve to know what this all means. If he can kiss you one night and deny you the next morning, you need to make him say it to your face."

Something about her words snapped into place. She was right.

Had I meant anything to him? Or had I always just been a stepping stone, a tool for him to use until something better—someone better—came along?

I stood, resolve hardening in my chest. "You’re right, Liz. I’m going."

Elizabeth was already on her feet. "And you’re not showing up like a heartbroken mess either. You’re going to walk in there looking like the woman he should’ve never let go."

We got dressed in a frenzy. Liz dug through my closet and handed me my boldest scarlet red dress—the one I had never dared to wear before. And the highest heels I owned.

"Are you sure this isn’t too much, Liz?"

She looked me dead in the eye. "Too much? You’re confronting the man who replaced you with your own sister at what was supposed to be YOUR wedding. Trust me, this is the perfect amount of too much."

We rushed to the venue, the silence in the car thick with adrenaline and nerves.

By the time we arrived, the doors to the wedding hall were already closed. Muffled music drifted out. I hesitated for only a second before pushing them open.

The timing couldn’t have been more cruel.

"You may now kiss the bride," the priest declared.

And there it was—

Tristan and Victoria, locked in a kiss.

My breath caught. My body went rigid. The kiss was slow. Deep. Sweet.

And when it broke, Tristan turned to the crowd, his eyes shining with the kind of affection I had once fantasized was for me.

"I used to believe business marriages had no real love," he said. "But in the days I’ve spent with Victoria, I’ve hopelessly fallen for her. I want to take care of her for the rest of my life."

Something inside me snapped.

I didn’t even realize I’d stepped forward until my voice rang through the room, sharp and breaking. "And what about me, Tristan? What did my feelings mean to you? Did I mean nothing at all?"

Gasps rippled through the audience as all eyes turned toward me. Whispers buzzed through the room. 

My throat tightened, and for a moment, I felt painfully self-conscious—like I was the intruder in a dream that was supposed to be mine.

Then I felt Liz slip her arm through mine. She lifted her chin high, radiating a calm defiance I desperately needed. 

Tristan's face hardened with irritation. He stepped away from Victoria, shielding her like I was some threat.

"Amelia," he said coldly. "Please don’t cause a scene. You and I were never anything more than what our families arranged. Victoria is the one I truly love."

The words cut deeper than I expected. If any pieces of my heart had remained intact, they were now shattered, stomped on, and destroyed beyond repair.

So that was it. Years of loving him. Sacrificing for him. Hoping. All of it—worthless.

I could barely breathe. Tears stung my eyes as I whispered, "If I mean nothing to you, then why did you come to the hotel last night?"

The room seemed to freeze. A wave of gasps rippled through the guests. Heads turned. Murmurs broke out in the crowd like wildfire.

"At the hotel? What is she talking about?" Victoria asked, eyes wide with worry.

Tristan’s brows furrowed. He leaned toward her slightly and muttered, loud enough for the crowd to hear, "She’s just jealous. Delusional. Don’t let her ruin our special day."

He turned to face me. The irritation in his eyes was poorly disguised behind a veneer of concern.

"Amelia," he said, his tone laced with forced patience, "I don't know what you are talking about, but if you keep causing trouble, I’ll have security throw you out.

Don't make this ugly."

He said it with mock pity, like I had gone mad—lost touch with reality. But I knew what I had felt, what I had experienced. 

The weight of those kisses, the heat of that moment—I hadn’t imagined it.

How could he pretend there pretend like nothing ever happened?

"You are really forcing me to tell the whole truth.” I mocked back, then I shouted, my voice breaking with anger and hurt.

"Last night—at Conrad Hotel, right outside my room—you kissed me! I even felt your family's crest on you!"

The gasps echoed through the room. Tristan’s brows furrowed tightly. "What are you talking about? I was at the hospital with Victoria, all day yesterday."

Before I could answer, another voice rang out—calm, confident, powerful.

"He was right. Because the man in the hotel last night...was me."

I turned around, my heart pounding in my chest.

Oh my God, the voice... it was none other than Rowan Lancaster?