I forced my face into what I hoped was a professionally neutral smile, pretending I didn't recognize the name that had haunted my childhood nightmares. "Good afternoon, Mr. Guerrero. I'm Dr. Jessica Timothy, and I'll be overseeing your cardiac care." I gave him a slight nod as I spoke in the softest, calmest tone I could muster. All of a sudden I was beginning to wish my father was here with me. So he would tell me how to react in this situation I was in. How exactly I could get out of it without losing a limb or two. His weathered face creased with amusement, green eyes twinkling with mischief that seemed at odds with his fearsome reputation. "My my, if I'd known my new doctor would be such a beauty, I would have worn my better suit." His thick Italian accent wrapped around the words like aged wine, smooth yet potent. The corners of his lips tilted up as he regarded me with a look I couldn't read, I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or threatening. Dr. Morrison shifted uncom
The drive home was quiet, almost too quiet considering how much I wanted to escape my thoughts in that moment.Marcus, my driver, kept his eyes trained on the road ahead as the city blurred past us, the late afternoon sun casted long shadows through the tinted windows. I was both annoyed and grateful for his professional silence as it gave me space to process the storm of thoughts in my head. Victoria's words echoed in my mind like a broken record. The memory of her perfectly manicured finger pointing at me, her face contorted with barely contained rage, made me shiver despite the car's warm interior. The sheer hatred in her gaze and her words. It was a threat. Or maybe a warning. A simple bark that would be without a bite. What exactly did she mean by that? The possibilities seemed endless and equally terrifying. I'd seen firsthand what Victoria Wellington was capable of – the way she'd manipulated situations, controlled narratives, destroyed careers – all with experienced pr
The day of the Henderson event arrived too quickly, bringing with it a flutter of nerves I couldn't quite shake. I was in our walk-in closet, mentally preparing myself to start getting ready while trying to ignore the slight tremor in my hands, when Roman appeared in the doorway with a famous brand bag I hadn't seen before. His presence immediately filled the space with a warmth that helped calm my racing thoughts. He smiled and walked in, closing the distance between us. His spicy perfume covered me in its addictive scent and I was left staring into those blue heated eyes, somehow wishing he would do something more than just kiss me. “Roman the romantic…” I cocked up a brow and said breathlessly, “What do you have there?” I pointed at the bag between us. "Before you start tearing apart your closet and declaring you have nothing to wear," he said with that knowing smile that always made him look years younger, "I might have something that could interest you." His eyes held that mixt
As Monica came closer, it was like watching an incoming storm. I had no idea what to expect, but I knew I wouldn't back down easily…not today. If I can take on Victoria Wellington If I can survive one conversation with my mother's father despite all I knew him to be…Monica would definitely be a piece of cake. A fucking big piece, a voice at the back of my mind pointed out annoyingly. I'd seen that expression on her face before, jaw set, eyes blazing with self-righteous fury. She wasn't just angry; she was out for blood. "Well, well," she drawled, coming to a stop barely an arm's length away. Her perfume, something expensive and overwhelmingly floral, invaded my space and made my eyes water slightly. "You've got quite the nerve showing your face in public after everything you've done to your own flesh and blood," Monica sneered, eyeing me with her usual disdain as her eyes took in my appearance. Many years ago that look was the source of my nightmares and low self-esteem. Sure,
Henderson's hand settled on my waist as we began to move to the music, and I couldn't help but notice the difference. Where Roman's touch always felt natural, like coming home, Henderson's felt calculated, each placement of his fingers seemingly designed to test boundaries."You seem distracted tonight, Amelia," Henderson observed, his voice carrying that particular tone of feigned concern that I'd learned to recognize from years in corporate circles. Getting my memories back was really coming in handy because heavens know I would've made a mistake since the first step. "Though I must say, distraction becomes you. Everything becomes you in that dress." He voiced, his voice low, tinged with something I recognized but chose to ignore the second I identified it. I maintained a polite smile, carefully adjusting our distance to be just a fraction more professional. "The dress was a gift from Roman. He has impeccable taste.""Ah yes, Roman," Henderson's eyes flickered briefly to where Ro
Bertha's approach felt like watching an impending collision in slow motion. Each click of her heels against the marble floor echoed in my ears, matching the quickening rhythm of my heart. She moved with the confidence of someone who had never doubted their place in the world, someone who had always belonged in rooms like this.The last time we saw each other, she'd warned me off Roman with a secret she thought would destroy us. I had thought she would leave for good as she kept on promising but I guess you can't have everything you wish for when you're as unlucky as I am. "Roman," she purred as she reached us, her voice honey-sweet but her eyes sharp as glass. "I've missed you."I felt Roman's hand tighten almost imperceptibly on my waist. "Bertha," he acknowledged coolly. "This is unexpected.""Is it?" She tilted her head, a practiced gesture that made her hair catch the light. "Daddy always says family should stick together during important business events." Her eyes slid to me, di
Victoria's perfectly manicured nails dug into my cheek, not enough to break skin, but enough to make her threat clear. I refused to flinch, even as my heart hammered against my ribs. The cold stone of the railing pressed against my back, a stark reminder that I was cornered. "You're nothing but a gold-digger who got lucky," she hissed, her breath hot against my face. "A nobody who crawled her way into our family through manipulation and deceit from your mother," Victoria sneered, “From what I heard, she was a whore who sold her body just to get you a better life!” I knocked her hand away, fury burning through my veins. "And you're nothing but a jealous, bitter woman who can't stand the fact that not everyone can be under your control and not everything will go the way you want!" I seethed, “I am not afraid of you, Victoria, I know what you truly are beneath all this bark!” The slap came fast, the crack of it echoing in the night air. My cheek stung, but I kept my head high, refusing
AMELIA The world swayed as Roman guided me through the dark hallways of the building as we made our way outside, his grip on my waist firm but gentle. The alcohol in my system made everything feel distant and hazy, like I was watching the scene unfold through frosted glass. My thoughts kept circling back to Victoria's words, to Bertha's appearance, to the weight of all these expectations I could never seem to meet. How the fuck am I supposed to be a woman worthy of Roman? A woman worthy of my mother's family and then not becoming the docile creature I was before my amnesia. How can I get myself out of all these messes I've put myself in? "Where are we going?" I managed to ask, my voice sounding strange to my own ears. "Home," Roman replied curtly. The muscle in his jaw was ticking – a sure sign of his anger. "But the party-" "It's over. For us, at least." We reached the parking garage, and I noticed Henderson's valet had already brought Roman's car around. Of course – even wh
SIX MONTHS LATERThe annual Wellington Anniversary gala was in full swing, and we'd decided to host it in our home rather than the hotel it was in late year. The ballroom of our estate glittering with lights that illuminated the beauty of the hall’s interior, reflecting against the marble floors, making it seem like the guests were walking on air. From my position near the large staircase, I could see the entire room, business associates, family members, friends all mingling in their finest attire.Jessica looked radiant in a deep green gown and she stood with Alexander near the champagne fountain, their six-month-old son making a fuss in her arms. My godson is a fast bloomer, that boy would walk the ends of the earth if his parents let him out of their sights. Probably why Jess was holding on to him like he was a lifeline. I couldn't help the light laugh that left me as I watched her and Alexander try to force the baby on Trenton. Greece, looking stunning in silver, was deep
I woke to unfamiliar shadows dancing across an unfamiliar ceiling. For a moment, panic seized me as I forgot where I was. Until it came rushing back and I found myself sinking deeper into the mattressRoman's bed was sinfully comfortable, the sheets soft against my skin. I stretched, my muscles protesting after yesterday's tension. Weak morning light seeped in through the slightly cracked curtains, suggesting it was still early. The storm had passed and all that was left was the scent of rain and forest, wet soil. A scent I never imagined would bring me such comfort, but it did. I slipped out of bed, my bare feet silent on the wooden floor. I still had Roman’s T-shirt on, adequate enough for modesty but still making me feel strangely vulnerable. I ran my fingers through my hair, attempting to tame it into something presentable, then padded quietly down the hallway.The living room was empty, no sign of Roman or the wolves. A folded blanket and pillow on the couch were the only evid
Roman chuckled, the rich sound sending heated shivers down my abdomen. His eyes crinkled at the corners, making him look more like the man I remembered. "So did you," he replied, nodding toward my pixie cut.I reached up self-consciously to touch the ends of my damp hair. "Maybe it should be called the divorce look," I said, attempting humor to break the tension."I prefer the term 'cut-off look,'" he countered, and we both laughed, the sound surprisingly easy between us.His expression softened, the rigid control slipping just a fraction. "I missed that," he said quietly. "Your humor. I'm still having a hard time believing you're actually here.""That makes two of us," I admitted, wrapping my hands around the warm mug of hot chocolate he'd made. It was sweet but not too sweet, exactly how I liked it. He'd remembered.One of the wolves approached cautiously, its golden eyes fixed on me. I tensed immediately, my body instinctively preparing for a threat."It's okay," Roman said, notici
AMELIAMy mouth opened, but no sound came out. Words, which had never failed me before, suddenly evaporated from my mind like morning dew under a harsh sun. I stood there, gun still stupidly hanging from my fingers, staring at the stranger-not-stranger before me.Roman Wellington. But not my Roman Wellington. This man was harder, sharper around the edges. The softness I remembered in his face was gone, replaced by angular planes and a jaw that could cut glass. The blonde hair threw me completely, so different from the midnight black I used to run my fingers through.I knew he was a blonde, heck, I tried to convince him a few times to stop dyeing his hair. I watched as the initial shock in his eyes faded, replaced by something cold and distant. The walls went up so fast I could almost hear them slamming into place."Amelia," he said again, this time not a question but a statement. Flat. Emotionless. "What are you doing here?"My throat felt like sandpaper. I swallowed hard, trying to
"I can make some inquiries," Nikolai replied, his voice careful, measured. "Roman Wellington is not an easy man to find if he doesn't want to be found."I gripped the phone tighter, my knuckles turning white. "But you can do it, right? You have connections I don't."There was a pause on the other end of the line, then a soft sigh. "For you, Amelia, I will try. Give me a few hours to contact my people in North America and Europe. If he's left any trace, we'll find it.""Thank you," I whispered, relief washing over me like a wave. "I owe you for this.""Let's not keep score between friends," Nikolai said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I'll call you when I have something."The call ended, and I sat motionless on my bed, staring at the wall. The enormity of what I was doing, searching for the man I'd walked away from two years ago, hit me. My hands trembled as I set the phone down, and I pressed them against my thighs to steady them.A soft knock on my door pulled me from my thoughts
The drive back to the manor was silent. Oppressively silent. The kind of silence that rings in your ears and makes your skin feel too tight. Jessica kept shooting worried glances my way, her hands gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were white. I couldn't bring myself to care. My mind was spinning with Greece's words, playing them over and over like a broken record."I haven't seen Roman in almost two years. No one has. He's gone."Greece had explained everything in that café, how Roman had methodically dismantled his life after I left. How he'd slowly withdrawn from social circles, buried himself in work, and then one day just... vanished. Left Wellington Corp in Colson's hands with an iron-clad contract and detailed instructions. Left his manor empty, his cars collecting dust in the garage. He'd even left his personal phone behind, with just a short note telling Greece not to worry, that he needed to "find himself" whatever the fuck that meant.I stared out the window,
Hi, hope you're doing good and the year has been going well for you? You must've noticed the lack of updates and I sincerely apologize for it. After my grandma's passing, things haven't been the same and I'm sad to admit that I went down a spiral and I had to take a step back for my mental health and to give you a proper ending. And I'm hoping my new book will also be ready by the time The Forgotten Marriage is done. There are five chapters left to go and maybe one bonus chapter. I can't say I'm totally fine but I'm getting there and I'm grateful to everyone who reached out and left comments as well. I really appreciate it, and I'll see you at the end. Love, Dchenemi.
AMELIAI felt like I'd been punched in the gut, all the air leaving my lungs in one desperate rush. Greece Wellington's presence was like a ghost from my past life, one I'd tried desperately to forget. My fingers tightened around the shopping bags, knuckles turning white as I struggled to maintain my composure."Jessica," I managed again, my voice lower and more upset when I didn't get an answer the first time. Jessica's eyes pleaded with me, her hand coming to rest on my forearm. "Please don't be mad," she whispered urgently, bringing her full hands up to her chest in a pleading motion."She's been trying to reach you for days. I couldn't just ignore her,” Jessica explained, her voice just as low as mine as her eyes darted between Greece and me pleadingly. “ Just hear her out, Amy…this might be good for you too, you know?”I let out a shaky breath and held back my growing anger, last thing I wanted was to project my frustrations on the pregnant woman. I knew she was trying to help
AMELIA Morning sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of my bedroom, casting warm patches across my chilly sheets. I should have felt lighter, triumphant even. The family was finally under control, the threats neutralized, and the Guerrero name secure. Yet as I lay there, staring up at the ceiling with its intricate paintings my mother had made , I felt anything but victorious. The heaviness in my chest from yesterday hadn't dissipated. If anything, it had grown worse, Alexander's words echoing in my mind like a haunting melody. "Even after two years, he's never once tried to reach out..." I didn't want to think about Roman. In fact, I had gaslighted myself into thinking it was taboo to think about him and rightfully so. How the fuck am I supposed to get him out of my head now? How the fuck am I supposed to stop thinking whether he never really cared to begin with, or what he was up to, or if he was okay. I knew he was. If anything had happened to Roman Wellington, the r