Roman and I hadn't said anything after his world shifting words in the bathroom. No, it looked more like he was too scared to say something, like he didn't trust the words that would come out of his mouth anymore. I on the other hand was unsure of how to react. This is something I've been wishing for, something I thought I would never get but now I know that this man…wants to be mine. Celebrating in front of him might seem quite insensitive seeing how lost his eyes seemed. We cleaned up in complete silence. He let him scrub him clean, my hands couldn't reach his hair though so I let him handle that on his own. Once we were done, I dried off my hair with the towel and wrapped up the rest of the damp ends. When I turned to face the door, I found that he was still standing there, staring at me and God, I couldn't look away from those vulnerable eyes. He looked like a fucking puppy. Unsure of what to do after confessing his feelings. He didn't know what would come next and, neither
AMELIA “Hi, Vince,” I smiled. It felt so strange seeing him here, in front of his door after weeks of worrying about him. He said he'd gone to Japan, but why did I feel like there was more to the story? More than what he'd actually told. He was dressed in pokemon pajamas which was definitely not expected. His hair ruffled like it had seen better days and he had a lazy smile that made my lips twitch. The top buttons of his pajamas were undone and he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed though it was the middle of the day. “Hey,” He replied, his pearly whites glinting under the afternoon sun. “Nice…shirt,” I mused, surprised that a man like him had such a preference. “Oh…this old thing?” He looked down at his outfit and chuckled, I noticed from the corner of my eyes how the tips of his ears turned red. “I'm glad to see you got home safe, Amelia,” He voiced after the silence between us had stretched on for far too long. My heart suddenly felt heavy as I recalled th
ROMAN I would've said no if I didn't feel so guilty after the words I'd said to Amelia that night. And she made it quite clear she wasn't asking for my permission, she just cared about me enough to let me know she was going out with a friend. Vincent. I don't like the man. Not one bit. I hated the way he looked at her, the way he smiled at her and how easily he could make her laugh when I on the other hand…have only managed to make her cry that easily. But she wanted to go…and despite myself I preferred it be with my next door neighbor than any other man. Like Henderson. And besides…she loves me. Again but this time, I was the one who desperately wanted to get it from her. She didn't say the words, not really…but she accepted it. And that was enough for me. And I honestly couldn't believe just how stupid I'd been in the past. I wanted so much to not be the man everyone thought me to be yet, I became even worse to her. Because I thought she was the reason for my un
ROMANMy eyes snapped open with a start.I inhaled deeply, my senses on high alert as I reached under my pillow and grabbed my gun, immediately sensing that something was wrong. I was in the spare room in my office, yet with no recollection of how I ended up here. My head was throbbing, my body ached and I couldn't feel my tongue for some reason. But I could feel the presence beside me and even worse, I could feel that I was only in my underwear. A hand was reaching for my shoulder, I turned off the safety of the gun and pointed it at the intruder, prepared to pull the trigger in the next second. Bertha's shocked scream reached my ears and my brows furrowed. “Roman! It's me!” She screamed, stumbling off the bed and dragging the sheets with her as she covered her chest. Wait. My bed…what the fuck? “Why the fuck are you here?”Her hair was disheveled, she seemed to be naked beneath the sheets and my confusion deepened even more. How did I end up here…with her? Nothing happene
AMELIA A few hours earlier… Something was wrong, something was terribly wrong. I looked at the new, strange paintings that spread through the gallery and for some reason, I knew immediately that they were all mine. I'd painted them all. “They were all donated by an anonymous regular, much like that one at the far end, quite riveting, don't you think?” Vincent asked thoughtfully, looking as though he was entranced by the paintings. On the outside, I was sure I seemed that way too but on the inside I was a fucking mess. I could almost taste it on my tongue, the paint, the putrid smell of urine and blood in the air. I could feel the scratches all over my skin, the painful burn in my wrists from being tied up tightly for far too long. I had scrubbed them raw against the ropes , trying to free my hands but despite trying for hours on end, all I could manage was to hold the paintbrush he gave to me, and fill the canvas with each turmoil and dark thought that consumed me. And her
JESSICA“Time of death, 11: 58 pm, November 12th,” Dr Morrison declares with a grim expression as the nurse beside moved to King Guerrero’s bedside and pulled up the sheets to cover his deathly pale face. His eyes were closed shut and his lips slack. For the first time since I'd met the man, he looked exactly like what he was. An old frail man. And now, he is dead. “Jessica?”I blinked, dragging my gaze away from King's lifeless figure and meeting Dr Morrison's eyes. “Did you hear what I just said?”I shook my head, I was still shaken by what had just happened. I knew it was coming. In the past month since King Guerrero assigned me to be his doctor, I knew this moment would come just…not this soon. My heart ached. Strangely, I had grown fond of the old man, considering him a friend. He had so many experiences, he's lived so many lives and he didn't hesitate to share the details with me…the first person from their world who treated me as I wanted to be treated. And now… “Dr Ti
JESSICA“Will you be attending the funeral?”Amelia stared down at her feet with a conflicted expression, looking like she couldn't decide. Her skin had become quite pale, she was sick. I noticed she's been from the past few days but she claims it's something she ate. I think otherwise. “I really don't know,” She finally managed, leaning back on the sofa in my apartment with a heavy sigh. “I had thought that I wouldn't feel anything if he died you know…” She sighed, “I guess I was wrong,”I shrugged, “He was your grandfather, no matter how complicated the situation was, it'll definitely bother you,”“Ugh…” She groaned for the nth time in the hour, reaching for the glass of water in front of her and emptying it. Again. “My head hurts…Alexander has been pestering the hell out of me,”Right. Alexander. Hearing his name alone was enough to make me tense up. For some reason, he had that effect on me, even without being here. “You should go to the hospital and get some tests done, Am
JESSICA What do you do when faced with a man who has plagued your dreams for months, a man whose face has consumed your waking moments and even your attempts to sleep. I let him in. I knew I shouldn't have, but he looked so goddamn pitiful! He looked…vulnerable. But then again, every drunk man looks like a child that needs their parent. He on the other hand. I watched as his chest rose and fell steadily, he was sprawled on my couch which I once considered big but seeing how his large frame struggled to find comfort in it I began to think otherwise. Why is he here? Why is he drunk? That's were the questions I would've asked if he didn't just walk in and lay on my couch like he was only here for it. I let out a low, even breath, watching him with countless conflicting emotions swirling in my chest. I wanted to move closer, see every detail of his face because I feared after this time a few more months would pass again before I can get a glimpse. But I opted to stand
Hi! Its me Dchenemi but you already know that lol. I want to thank you for sticking with this book this far and answer a few questions. Firstly O would like to apologize for the lack of updates, I have ongoing exams and I'm unable to focus on writing while the pressure of getting good grades are breathing down on my neck ahah.Secondly, this arc of the book will be over and after that there'll be one last arc to round up everything and then The Forgotten Marriage will be done and Roman and Amelia's story will give way to other books in the Volkov's Series. Thirdly, daily updates will resume first of February without fail and I promise to give you a satisfying ending. Lastly, thank you for sticking around and coming this far, I hope you have a great week ahead and I'll see you in February. Best, Dchenemi. P.S. You can find me on FB @Divine Chenemi to learn more about the upcoming series or get a sneak peek at oncoming chapters or if you have suggestions or anything you wish to ta
AMELIA My mother had always told me I was destined for great things, and at some point in my life, I thought it was being a well-established painter or perhaps a tycoon like she wished to be. But now I realized what she truly meant. No matter how much she had tried to escape it, her past still caught up with her. Just like my grandfather had said, one could not fully leave such a life except through death, and now... I had become one of them. Due to the things I had said and done behind Isabella's back, she had sent me into those rooms to be abused by those men, but what I came out with was power—one that I couldn't ever tell Roman about. The things I had said... and done, just to convince those men... "Amelia, how could you do such a thing without consulting me?!" Alexander whisper-yelled. He stood a few steps away from me, practically trembling from the shock and rage of what I had just told him. I interlocked my fingers and let out a soft sigh, not fazed one bit by his agitatio
AMELIAI cried myself back to sleep, my body was far too exhausted to do anything else. When I came to, Roman wasn't in the bedroom with me. Our bedroom. I was back home. It felt surreal seeing the familiar walls, the sheets, the scents. Everything made my eyes prickle with tears and the irony wasn't lost on me. Not too long ago I had wished to be out of here for good with no reason to return yet, here I was…happy to be back within three walls. My limbs felt heavy, like they didn't belong to me and my head felt like it wasn't a part of my body. I still felt out of it…a strange feeling that spread to my chest. Like I was out of place, like I didn't belong. For some reason, I half expected Marcus would open that door and walk in, sit right next to me and continue the torture I've been in for the past two weeks. It was possible. What did Roman do with him? I sat up slowly, my whole body groaning in protest. My vision spun and it took a few seconds for me to get my head in order.
AMELIAA FEW DAYS LATER… Isabella had kept her word. After the meeting with Mr. Rossi and a few others who Isabella failed to mention, she didn't send me back to the building I was locked up in. She gave me two flight tickets and told me to make a choice, one sent me back home and the other…was to Sicily. To the heart of all our family's operations. She gave me a choice, once she knew would make my mind heavy with thoughts. An opportunity at power. But I already had my own plans…one I intended to execute once I was out of her grasp. I was supposed to be boarding a plane going back home before Marcus got to me, probably angry that Isabella didn't keep her end of whatever it was their bargain was. I suspected it was me. I barely remembered what happened after that, I was pumped full of whatever it was Marcus spent the last few days injecting me with. I could barely keep my eyes open, I couldn't walk and my thoughts were muddled even as panic gripped me. Fear that I had been doub
AMELIAOver a week had passed since I'd first woken in this goddamn bedroom, though time had begun to lose all meaning. The hope I'd initially clung to – that Roman would find me, that someone would notice my absence and come to my rescue – had slowly withered away like flowers left too long without water. I'd spent countless hours staring out at the skyline, watching the sun rise and set over ancient buildings that had witnessed centuries of human suffering. Now they were witnessing mine.My heart ached each time I saw people pass by, moving freely without knowing just how grateful they should be that they could. Marcus hadn't kissed a day of his visits, his constant torture and each day that passed brought me closer to the day he would finally act on his obvious urges that he's been talking about. He's going to start hurting me, not just mentally but physically. The got of it alone got him off. I'd seen him massage his dick a few times with his eyes on me, fantasizing of a day
ROMAN The mining complex loomed before us in the early morning light, a hulking mass of concrete and rusted metal that seemed to devour the shadows around it. I crouched behind a piece of machinery, my body coiled tight with anticipation as I watched the guards make their rounds through my scope. "Three on the perimeter, two at each entrance," Nikolai's voice came through my earpiece, soft but crystal clear. Even from his position in the command vehicle half a mile away, he somehow knew exactly what was happening. "They're rotating every fifteen minutes, clockwork precision. Military training, just like our informant said." "How many inside?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Heat signatures show twelve moving bodies on the main level, four in the lower sections." There was a pause, then, "One signature in the deepest part of the complex. Isolated. That's her, Roman." My fingers tightened on my rifle. "You're sure?" "The body temperature is slightly elevated, consistent
ROMAN My finger tightened instinctively on the trigger as I studied my cousin, but something in his relaxed posture made me hesitate. He moved with an uncanny grace as he stepped closer, his cane barely touching the ground, more an accessory than a necessity. When he removed his sunglasses, I understood why – behind them, white orbs stared unseeingly ahead, yet somehow I felt more seen than I had in years. "The great Roman Volkov," Nikolai mused, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Always so quick to reach for your weapon. Some things never change, cousin." He moved past me with the confidence of someone who could see every obstacle, his cane making soft taps against the marble floor. "Though I must say, your taste in interior design has improved significantly." He spoke like we were close, but I'd only met the man once when I was younger…two years younger than me, a strange child that had no innocence left in him. There was an attack that left both his eyes damaged beyond repai
ROMAN FOUR DAYS AGO… The sketch in my hand trembled as realization crashed over me like a wave of ice water. Those familiar features, that seemingly warm smile that had never quite reached his eyes – Vincent. Pierce! Our fucking neighbor?! The man who had wormed his way into our lives after her accident despite being our neighbor for years. He got so close to Amelia…the way he looked at her, the way he tried to get closer every fucking time. How could I have been so blind? How could I have been so stupid?! My grip tightened until the paper crumpled between my fingers, fury coursing through my veins like molten lead. "Dimitri," I barked, my voice cutting through the tension-filled air of the cabin. "Watch her. If she so much as breathes wrong, handle it." My eyes locked onto Bertha's terrified face, watching as the blood drained from her cheeks. "You helped him get close to my wife again. Remember that when you're lying awake tonight." I rose to my feet, “For every scratc
AMELIAFive days. One hundred and twenty hours of being trapped in this prison, each minute stretching into an eternity of helpless desperation. The room, with its elegant Italian furniture and sweeping views of Rome, had become my personal hell. They had taken off the covers from the furniture, told me it was once my mother's bedroom. I was in Guerrero manor, a family house in a fucking skyscraper. The highest room, a place my mother probably sought solace and now it was my cell. I'd tried every door, every window, even searched for hidden passages like some character in a gothic novel, but found nothing. The doors were sealed tight, the windows reinforced with something that wouldn't break no matter how hard I struck them. Even the beautiful crystal vase I'd hurled in desperation had merely bounced off, leaving not so much as a scratch.From my perch high above the city, I watched life continue below with a sense of surreal detachment. People moved through the streets like tiny d