ROMANI didn't find Amelia in the living room or kitchen when I got home. It stirred up a strange feeling inside me, something that felt like I was excited to see her and also dreading the idea of feeling that excitement. We've literally spent the past three days together and have only been separated for a few hours yet here I was like a fool, missing her. ‘You love her, don't you?’That question seemed to echo in my head over and over again no matter how much I tried to brush it off. As I made my way upstairs, I silently wondered if she was okay. It was so quiet. Everyone had been given the day off, so it was just the two of us. Why did that… I swallowed, pushing down the thoughts that threatened to assail my mind. Scratch that, they were already there. Memories of Amelia beneath me, naked…wet and so fucking–I Inhaled sharply and mentally face palmed. Here I was in front of the master bedroom and I could feel myself going hard. “Fucking idiot!”The moon was already up, the
AMELIA I should have stopped him. No. I didn't want to stop him. I wanted it just as much as he claimed. Just as much as his body showed. His arm went tighter around my waist as he let out a shaky breath past my lips, his fingers entangling themselves in my hair as his hot tongue explored every crevice of my mouth. He pulled my face closer, like we didn't need air. I understood the urgency in his actions because I felt the same way. I felt eager to go deeper into his embrace, to feel him closer…his kiss, his mouth…everything about him in that moment seemed to drive me crazy. His cock was harder, pushing into me with every little movement and I shamelessly rocked against him…wanting more, craving more. Everything else was forgotten. It was the effect of his words, everything he admitted to me…it mass me realize just how much I wanted this man and how fucking afraid I was to lose him. He was more than just a friend to me…admitting it to myself only served to increase my fear.
AMELIA Sure, I knew he wouldn't drop it…no matter how much I tried to distract him. It left me thinking up an excuse, a fake story I can tell to explain my accidental slip up. I was just so overwhelmed…I shouldn't have said those words, not to him…what if he learns of it? Would he still look at me the same way? Would he still declare these words with the same fervor? “Roman…” I moaned, eyes going wide as I felt his finger slide slowly into my wet core, so slow that I felt I would die from the anticipation. My walls immediately clenched around his fingers, a shaky breath left my lips. He pressed his lips against mine, fingers leaving my core and grabbing my ass tightly. I struggled to catch my breath as he smacked my butt cheeks, hard. Then he groaned, lifting my feet from the ground before I could string along a proper thought. The sting from his hit only served to heighten my arousal. His lips never left mine, not once. My back was against the soft mattress in t
“Are you asleep?” I was momentarily startled by Roman's question. I had thought he was asleep as I felt his chest rise and fall steadily behind me. He had gone quiet and led me to believe that we wouldn't have to talk. It was my fault for hoping I would have more time to mentally prepare myself for the conversation he wanted to have. “No…” I muttered after a few seconds had passed. “I can't sleep,” I confessed quietly. Countless thoughts were swirling through my mind in that moment. Firstly, I was naked, so was Roman, and I was in his arms, his chest pressed so closely against my back that I could feel each thump of his heart. I could feel his hot breath in my hair. I could smell his sweat and masculine scent on my skin. And yet, despite it all. I was so fucking comfortable and, at the same time, unable to relax. Maybe he could feel it. How tense I was. “Are you ready to talk?” “I think I need another shower,” I immediately cut in, making a move to sit up. He held
ALEXANDER The ancient hinges creaked ominously as I pushed open the heavy oak doors to my grandfather's bedroom, a sound that had haunted my childhood nightmares whenever I'd been called in for a scolding. The familiar scent hit me first – a complex mixture of Cuban cigars, aged leather, and the subtle undertone of the lavender oil the maids used to polish the antique furniture. It was a scent I'd come to associate with power, with family, with the weight of expectations that came with being a Guerrero. But all of this grandeur paled in comparison to the man sitting in the imposing leather armchair by the window. My grandfather – Il re ombra, the King of the underground world – looked smaller than I remembered from just two weeks ago. The sight of him made my heart clench painfully in my chest. The harsh Sicily sunlight that bathed the room in golden hues did him no favors, casting deep shadows across his gaunt face and highlighting the hollow spaces where his strength used to res
AMELIA “Hey…Vince,” I sighed for the nth time that afternoon, “I haven't heard from you since the exhibition, I've gotten a few calls from potential clients who want customs and quite frankly I'm a bit overwhelmed, so…call me back, please? I need your expert opinion on how to handle this,” I begged, my tone tinged with worry and exhaustion. There was a sound of a beep and the voicemail was sent. I slumped into my chair and let out a heavy sigh. I was in my office, already exhausted before the day had even begun but I just couldn't bring myself to stay alone at home when I knew Roman was busy with the oncoming project with Mr. Henderson and he needed all hands on deck. Aside from the research I've been doing, I've pretty much remembered a few things about the past five years that would help me settle into my role at Grayson Holdings quite comfortably. And…everything had gone to shit without me, until Roman had picked up majority of the responsibility. Still, there was much he c
I stared at the monitor until the words started swimming before my eyes like they were gibberish, but my mind kept drifting back to Roman. The memory of his hands on my skin, his breath against my neck... God, I needed to focus. The stack of reports on my desk wasn't going to review itself, but every time I tried to concentrate, my thoughts circled back to him like a compass pointing north."Get it together, Amelia," I muttered to myself, running my fingers through my hair in frustration. The office felt too quiet, too empty, making it impossible to silence the thoughts bouncing around in my head. What did he want to talk about tonight? What was this gift he mentioned? And why did he always sound so hesitant when it came to having a real conversation about his past?He spoke like it was something to he afraid of and truth be told, I was already afraid. But my curiosity was far stronger than the fear I felt. I reached for my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I found Jessica's
The car wound through the tree-lined driveway leading to Roman's mansion, and I couldn't stop myself from checking the rearview mirror every few seconds. The headlights I'd spotted earlier had disappeared, but that did little to calm my nerves. If anything, their absence made me more anxious. Where had they gone? Had I imagined them?I glanced at my driver through the mirror again. Marcus – or at least, that's what Roman had told me his name was – kept his eyes fixed steadily on the road ahead. He'd been my driver for the past few weeks since Alexander's reappearance yet we've barely said more than a few words to each other.Suddenly I realized how little I actually knew about him. Had he always been this quiet? This... watchful?My phone buzzed in my hand, making me jump. A text from Roman lit up the screen:"Running late. Henderson's being difficult. Don't wait up for dinner - we'll talk when I get home. Lock the doors."Lock the doors? My heart rate picked up. Roman had never told
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