Hi, have a great weekend!
I nodded, suddenly feeling a strange mix of terror and exhilaration. As we approached the crowd, I found myself studying my own work with new eyes, trying to see it as these strangers did.After years of being told by my father that my love for painting was just me throwing my head up in the clouds, me making another excuse to be useless in the family…seeing this, seeing what I had done out of a basement which I had begged for. It was…words couldn't describe it. The painting was large, spanning nearly the entire wall. At first glance, it appeared to be an abstract explosion of color – swirls of deep blues and purples intermingling with bursts of fiery reds and oranges. But as you looked closer, shapes began to emerge from the chaos. Here, the curve of a woman's back. There, the silhouette of a cityscape. And woven throughout, barely perceptible unless you knew to look for them, were words and phrases, worked into the very texture of the paint.It was a piece born of my jumbled memor
I thought back to the young woman I had been when I first started this painting, lost and confused and angry, grappling with the fractured pieces of a life I could no longer fully remember. And now, standing here in this beautiful space, with Roman by my side and a future full of possibilities stretching out before me, I felt a profound sense of achievement. This…was something I had agreed on and decided on a whim, because I needed an outlet. Now it had become… As I turned to look at Roman, seeing the clear pride and admiration shining in his eyes, I realized that this night, this moment, was well deserved, the woman I was felt content, overjoyed just looking at him, looking at the painting,looking at the crowd.“Do you think I can do this professionally?” I lifted a brow and whispered, I had meant it as a joke, but noticed that both Vincent and Roman took my question seriously and nodded firmly. “Definitely!” Vincent agreed. The sound of approaching footsteps drew my attention b
I should? Would my mother be proud of me if she saw me now? How long has it been since I've felt this…happy.I felt my eyes water, despite how hard I tried to stop it. I could not help the emotions that threatened to spill. Before I could respond, Vincent cleared his throat, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, now that the initial excitement has died down, how about we go explore the rest of the gallery?" he suggested, his gaze flickering briefly between Roman and me. "There are some other amazing pieces I think you'll both enjoy."Roman nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. "That sounds like a good idea," he said. Then, with a slight hesitation, he added, "Actually, if it's alright with you, Amelia, I think I'd like to take a look around on my own for a bit. We can regroup later?"I couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment at the thought of being separated from him, but I quickly pushed it aside, offering him a reassuring smile. "Of course, Roman. Take your time. Vince
Alexander.He stood there, mere inches away from me, a slow grin stretching across his face. I couldn't help but notice the bruise on his lip, a stark contrast against his pale skin. For a moment, I was transported back to his empty house in LA, the days I had spent locked up in there, awaiting my fate. The memory of fear and desperation washed over me, threatening to pull me under.I never imagined I would be face to face with him again yet, here I was. "W-what are you doing here?" I managed to stammer out, my voice barely above a whisper. My body trembled, and I felt myself take an involuntary step backward, desperate to put some distance between us.Why was he here? How did he find me? Is he here to take me again? Where's Roman? I looked around, eyes probably wide with panic, we were in a corner that barely anyone reached. Before Alexander could respond, Vincent was suddenly at my side, his presence solid as his arm went around my shoulder. I hadn't even noticed him approach,
AMELIAThe sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed in my ears as Roman's fist connected with Alexander's jaw. Time seemed to slow down as I watched Alexander stumble backward, his hand flying to his face. My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I tried to process what had just happened.As the initial shock began to wear off, I found myself studying Roman more closely. It was then that I noticed the bruises marring his handsome face - a small cut above his eyebrow, a darkening bruise on his cheekbone. That was when I realized they had fought before. This wasn't their first confrontation of the night.Thankfully, we were tucked away in a corner of the gallery, hidden from the main crowd by a large sculpture. No one seemed to have noticed the commotion, the chatter and clinking of glasses continuing in the main room.Alexander regained his footing, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he straightened up. He ran his tongue over his newly split lip, his green eyes
The drive back to Roman's mansion was tense, the silence in the car was by far the most uncomfortable I've ever had to endure. Roman and I sat in the backseat, my eyes were fixed on the road ahead, while Alexander drove and seemed to enjoy the silence, his presence a constant reminder of the bombshell he had dropped. Roman's knuckles were white on his knees, and he looked out the window, his jaw clenched so tight I feared he might crack a tooth. As we pulled up at the mansion, I noticed the absence of the usual bustling activity. The windows were dark, no warm light spilling out. It seemed the maids had clocked out for the day. A fleeting thought crossed my mind, perhaps Trenton was still back at the gallery, though we hadn't run into him on our way out. I silently hoped he would enjoy his time there more than I did. The car came to a stop, and for a moment, none of us moved. It was as if we were all waiting for someone else to make the first move, to break the fragile silence that
ROMANI stood in the living room, my hands clenched into fists at my sides, anger simmering just beneath the surface. The ice pack Amelia had given me lay forgotten on the coffee table, slowly melting into a puddle that matched the cold fury in my veins. Alexander lounged on the sofa across from me, looking far too comfortable for a man who was in the presence of the one who wanted him dead the most.The silence that settled between us was oppressive, filled with years of unspoken animosity and distrust. Alexander and I used to be friends once upon a time, business partners with a bond that only few understood. Until he chose to throw me under the bus for power, so I killed him and took everything he ever gained outside his family…at least I thought I killed the bastard. He was like a fucking cockroach! And now…he claimed to be something I desperately hoped he wouldn't be. I had spent weeks and resources searching for this man, driven by a desire for vengeance that had consumed m
AMELIAI woke up the next morning with both determination and dread settling in my stomach. The events of the previous night felt almost like a dream, but the weight of what Alexander had said was all too real. As I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, I made a decision. Today was the day I would get answers. No more hiding, no more half-truths.I already had a big chunk of my memory missing, I was just barely getting control over my life and now…I had to know, if there truly is something more to know about my mother… With a deep breath, I pushed myself out of bed and headed for the shower. The hot water helped clear my mind, washing away some of the lingering fog of sleep and confusion. As I stood under the spray, I tried to organize my thoughts, to prepare myself for the conversations I would have to initiate. Once I was dressed and feeling somewhat more human, I reached for my phone. My finger hovered over Jessica's name for a moment before I tapped to call. The familiar sound of
BERTHAI stared at my reflection in the large vanity mirror, my fingers trembling with barely contained rage as I adjusted the diamond pendant around my neck. The weight of it felt suffocating, much like everything else in this oppressive fucking mansion. The warm golden light from the lamps above should have made me look radiant, but all I could see was the storm brewing in my dark eyes.Here in this mansion, I felt like a dolled up trinket, just kept here to look pretty, to bear a child that Yaakov can fully mold as he wants.The gala invitation lay mockingly on the corner of my vanity, its gold-embossed lettering catching the light. "Mr. and Mrs. Wellington," it read, as if I was supposed to feel honored to be attending as Yaakov Wellington's wife. I sneered at my reflection, watching as the expression twisted my carefully made-up features. The deep burgundy lipstick I'd chosen suddenly seemed too harsh against my pale skin, but it matched my mood perfectly.I had cut my hair short
AMELIAThe hours crawled by with excruciating slowness. Jessica and I sat in the living room, remnants of our lunch spread across the coffee table, neither of us having much appetite. The black car hadn't returned, but I kept glancing out the window anyway, expecting—or dreading—to see it again.I knew something was going on, deep down I knew that the little peace we'd managed to enjoy these past few weeks was already over. I knew it the second I woke up in that hospital. I knew it the second I was told I lost my baby. "You should try to eat something," Jessica said, pushing a container of pasta toward me, looking rather cautious. She's been that way for a while, like she's unsure of what to say, scared that a word might trigger me or something like that. I shook my head. "I can't. My stomach's in knots." I admitted with full honesty. My heart felt heavy and there was the sense of impending doom that I kept trying to push down. Roman and I were…not okay, that much I knew. Eating a
The argument replayed in my mind like a broken record, each harsh word cutting deeper with each repetition. ‘All you see is your own pain.’ The accusation stung particularly sharp because it was untrue. I'd spent weeks trying to understand Roman's pain, making excuses for his absence, convincing myself that his distance was just his way of coping. And now he had the audacity to throw that in my face? That son of a– My phone felt heavy in my pocket. I could call Jessica, or Alexander—they'd be here in minutes. But what would I say? That my husband, the man who'd been my rock through everything, had just revealed a side of himself I'd never seen before? That he was keeping secrets about who had poisoned me? Instead, I did something I hadn't dared since being discharged; I walked upstairs to the nursery door. My hand trembled as it touched the doorknob. We'd painted it white just two weeks ago, discussing whether we should add some kind of decorative element. Roman had wanted to pai
AMELIAHome was supposed to feel like a sanctuary. Instead, the walls seemed to close in around me, each room holding memories that felt more like wounds. The nursery door remained firmly shut—neither of us had the courage to face what lay behind it.I for one knew that I would break down into tiny pieces if I saw what was behind that door. I had already given instructions for the room to be emptied, without my knowledge, of course. I didn't want to see them. The crib. The stuffed animals, the onesies. Fiona had left or rather…fired. I had a feeling she had something to do with the poisoning seeing as Roman was being kind of secretive about why she left or why he fired her. He never really gave me a straight answer, not even when he hired an older woman to fill in as both housekeeper and maid for the meantime. Roman had been adamant about me staying home. "You need to rest," he'd say, his tone leaving no room for argument. But rest felt impossible when my mind wouldn't stop spinnin
The night air was cool against my skin as I stepped out of the hospital, fishing my phone out of my purse to order another Uber. The parking lot was mostly empty, illuminated by scattered streetlights that created pools of yellow light in the darkness. The sound of rapid footsteps behind me made my heart jump, but before I could turn around, I heard his voice."Greece!"Just one word. My name. But the way Colson said it made something inside me twist. I turned to find him slightly out of breath, as if he'd run to catch up with me. The sight of him – powerful, composed Colson – actually running after someone was so unexpected that for a moment, I could only stare."What are you doing here?" I asked, hating how my voice betrayed my awareness of him. Even in the dim light, he was devastating – the shadows playing across his features only emphasized the sharp angles of his face, the intensity of his gaze."It's too dark for you to be out alone," he said, his tone still carrying that profe
GREECE“Why…” I inhaled deeply, “...are you here?” I asked softly. I didn't know he was back from Mexico. But then again, we haven't kept any contact since I left. He couldn't be here for me, right? "Wellington Corp has a meeting with the university board today," Colson said, his voice carrying that familiar professional tone that I'd almost forgotten existed. "With Roman at the hospital with Amelia, I'm handling the meeting with the dean."The words hit me like a splash of cold water, washing away whatever foolish notions I'd been entertaining. Of course. He wasn't here for me. He was here for business, just like always. The realization stung more than it should have, but I refused to let it show on my face."It's nice to see you again," I managed to say, proud of how steady my voice sounded despite the chaos in my chest. But even as I spoke, my traitorous eyes kept drifting to his lips, remembering how they'd felt against mine that night in Mexico. The warmth, the intensity, the
GREECEThe lecture hall felt suffocating despite its size. Professor Williams droned on about corporate law, but my mind was elsewhere, wandering back to memories of Mexico City – memories I couldn't seem to shake no matter how hard I tried. It had been a month since I'd returned, since Colson had practically forced me onto that plane, and yet everything still felt fresh. Raw.The scent of his cologne. The intensity of his gaze. The way his hands felt when they caught me from falling. The almost-kiss on the balcony that still haunted my dreams."Miss Stavros?" Professor Williams's voice cut through my reverie. "Care to share your thoughts on the Jensen case?"I straightened in my seat, forcing myself to focus on the present. "The Jensen case highlighted the importance of fiduciary duty in corporate governance," I began, drawing on whatever information I could remember from last night's reading. "The board's decision to..."As I continued my response, I couldn't help but notice how dif
The days that followed blurred together like watercolors in the rain. I felt disconnected from my body, as if I were floating somewhere above myself, tethered only by the thinnest of threads to the physical world below. The hospital room became my entire universe—a bubble where time moved differently, where every breath felt like an effort against the crushing weight of loss.I used to think I was a strong person, I used to think if I could have survived this far, after everything…then I could handle anything. But this? This pain? It was something I wouldn't wish even my worst enemy. Jessica was my constant companion, her presence both comforting and guilt-inducing. She'd pull up a chair beside my bed, her white coat wrinkled from long hours, dark circles under her eyes betraying her exhaustion."You need to get back to work," I told her one afternoon, my voice still carrying that hollow quality I couldn't seem to shake. "Your patients need you more than I do."She looked up from h
AMELIADarkness. Unrelenting. Suffocating.The memory crashed over me like a violent wave, fragmentary and disjointed. Marcus. The name itself was a razor blade against my consciousness, cutting through the soft, sedated edges of my hospital room's tranquility.I could see him—not his face, never his complete face—but his presence. Overwhelming. Menacing. A shadow that had stalked me longer than I could comprehend. His voice was a low, calculated whisper that seemed to echo through the chambers of my most terrifying memories. "Finally," he had said. "Finally, I have you."I remember being so afraid that I couldn't speak, every time he walked into a room, every time he told me about his love for me…how many times he's watched me, how many times he's just been in the shadows…looking, seeing everything and anything that has happened to me, even times I had forgotten. Flashes of my previous attempts to escape flickered like a damaged film reel. The sharp object I'd used against him—som