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
I felt my breath catch in my throat. "Are you saying our family is involved in organized crime?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.Alexander's lips curved into a humorless smile. "That's putting it mildly," he said. "The Guerrero family is one of the most influential crime syndicates in Italy. Our grandfather, King Guerrero, was known as 'Il Re Ombra' - The Shadow King. He controlled everything from illegal gambling to international weapons trafficking,"My mind reeled at this information. It seemed impossible that my mother - the woman who had raised me, who had taught me to paint and to appreciate beauty in the world - could have come from such a background."But... my mom wasn't like that," I protested weakly. "She was an artist, a gentle soul," But even as I spoke the words I knew they weren't true. Trenton stepped forward then, his face etched with sympathy. "Your mother was indeed an artist, Miss Amelia. But she was also a product of her upbringing. The Guerrero family
After what felt like hours of intense conversation, I finally stood up from the chair, my legs slightly wobbly from sitting for so long. The weight of everything I had learned pressed down on me, making even the simple act of standing feel like a monumental effort."I need to head out," I announced, my voice sounding strangely hollow in the quiet room. "I have... plans."Right. I had to meet up with Jessica, get my hair done. Now that seemed to be the least of my worries, there was so much more on my mind now and perhaps part of me was regretting demanding to know the truth. Would it have been easier to just be ignorant? Alexander rose as well, his movements fluid and graceful in a way that I now recognized as the result of years of training. "I should be going too," he said, his green eyes - so similar to my own - studying my face carefully. "But Amelia, I want you to know that I'm here for you. If you need anything, anything at all, just let me know. We're family, after all,"Fam