Chapter 4

Tony’s pov

Since Brittney left, I’ve been telling myself it’s for the best. It’s easier this way. She was never more than a convinence—a solution to a problem I needed to fix. Now that she’s gone, I can finally breathe.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

The whiskey burned as it slid down my throat, the glass heavy in hand.

I sat in my office, the silence pressing against me but I ignored it.

I ignored everything.

She’ll come back, she always does.

For three years I watched her cling to me, like a month to a flame. Desperate for something I never promised her. Love? That was never part of the deal. I gave her my name, my status, a life most people will kill for. What more could she possibly want?

But she left.

Women like Brittney don’t last long without someone like me to keep them afloat. She’ll realize it eventually. The world outside my name isn’t kind to women like her.

The phone buzzes on the desk, Amelia’s name lightening up the screen. Persistent as always. I don’t bother answering. Her dramatics don’t interest me right now.

I lean back in my chair, letting my thoughts drift.

Brittney looked different that night. When she stood at that ridiculous family dinner and announced she wanted a divorce, there was fire in her eyes I hadn’t seen before. A spark of something I didn’t think she had in her.

It doesn’t matter. That spark will fizzle out. It always does.

“Sir,” a voice at the door pulls me from my thoughts. One of my assistant stood hesistantly, holding a folder.

“The report you requested is ready.” He said.

“Leave it on the desk.” I replied curtly, waving him off.

“Yes, sir.” He placed it down and quickly exit, the door clicking shut behind him.

I swirl the whiskey in my glass, staring at it. I could call Brittney right now, one phone call and she’d come running back.

That’s who she is.

Or maybe that’s what I’ve told myself for so long and started believing it.

The door creaked open again and this time it’s Amelia. She strode in like she owned the place, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

“Tony,” she purred, perching on the edge of my desk. Her perfume is suffocating. “You’ve been ignoring my calls.

I took a slow drag from the blunt between my fingers, blowing the smoke into air. “I’ve been busy.”

“Busy doing what?” She pressed, crossing her legs and leaning in closer. “Thinking about her?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoffed. Draining the rest of my whiskey.

“Oh, please,” Amelia rolled her eyes. “You think I don’t notice? Ever since she left, you’ve been sulking around like some lovesick puppy.”

I laughed. “Lovesick? Hardly. She’ll come back. She always does.”

“And what if she doesn’t?”

I took another drag, letting her question hang in the air before stubbing the blunt in the ashtray. “Then she’s a fool.”

“Why are you here Amelia?” I asked, tired of her games.

She smirked, her lip curled up in a seductive grin. “I just wanted to remind you that not everyone leaves. Some of us stay, no matter how much of an ass you are.”

Her hand trailed across my chest. Her fingers slipping between the buttons of my shirt.

I smirked back. “And yet, here you are, still waiting for scraps.”

She leaned in, brushing her lips against mine. “Watch what you say,” she murmured, her voice sweet as poison.

She kissed aggressively, more of a power play than affection. I responded automatically, letting the rawness of the moment consume me. Her hands roamed across my chest. Tugging at my chest as she works to undo the buttons.

“Tony,” she moaned softly, her voice filled with need.

I pushed her back onto the desk, scattering papers and folders in the process. Her smug smirk didn’t waver as she arched her body, taunting me.

I stepped back, yanking her hands away. Something about this feels wrong.

“What are you doing?” She muttered inbetween gasps.

“This,” I said, gesturing between us, “isn’t what I need right now.”

Amelia sat up, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh come on, you’re just sulking because she left. Let me remind you why yoh don’t need her.”

“You don’t get it!” I snapped. “This isn’t about her.”

“Of course it’s about her. You can’t even say her name without that brooding look on your face. Admit it—you miss her.”

I grabbed my jacket, rolling my eyes. “Don’t ever flattter yourself by thinking you know me.”

Amelia’s expression hardened. “You think she’s coming back, don’t you? You think you can snap your fingers and she’ll come running, like she always does.”

I didn’t respond. But my silence spoke volumes.

“She’s not comin back,” Amelia said, standing and smoothing her dress. “And you know why? Because for once, she realized she deserves better than you.”

“Get out!” I growled.

She grabbed her purse. “Fine! But don’t come crawling back when you realized you’ve lost everything.”

She stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

I stood there, staring at the empty room. I tell myself, it doesn’t matter, that I shouldn’t care.

And I wonder if Amelia was right.