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
AMELIA As I stood in front of the full-length mirror, my breath caught in my throat. The woman staring back at me was familiar yet strangely new. My once dark limp locks had been transformed into a stunning shade of warm blonde with faint curls, the color seeming to catch and reflect the light in a way that made my whole face glow. It framed my face perfectly, softening my features while simultaneously making them appear more defined. "Oh my god, Amelia!" Jessica gasped beside me, her eyes wide with awe. "You look absolutely incredible! I mean, you were always gorgeous, but this... this is next level!" Jessica complimented, her eyes taking me in like she hadn't seen me in years. I couldn't help but smile, running my fingers through my newly blonde hair. It felt softer somehow, and the way it moved seemed almost magical. "I love it," I admitted, a sense of satisfaction settling over me. "It's so different, but in the best way possible," I heard myself say as I admired my reflection.
"Greece?" I called out again, rising from my seat as the disheveled young woman stumbled towards our table. Her usually impeccable appearance was in disarray - her dark hair mussed, her clothes wrinkled, and her eyes wide with a mix of fear and relief. I watched as her legs and fingers trembled, she looked lost…the sight of her in that state made me worry, it also reminded me of myself. As she reached us, I opened my arms instinctively, and Greece practically fell into my embrace. Her body shook with silent sobs as she clung to me, her fingers digging into my back as if I were a lifeline in a stormy sea. I held her tightly, my worry growing with each passing second."Shh, it's okay," I murmured, running a soothing hand down her back. "You're safe now. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out together," I promised in a low voice, feeling a sharp pang in my chest the longer I felt her tears soak through my shirt. What exactly was going on with her? What could've caused her to end up in suc