AMELIAAt first, the words were at the top of my tongue. He felt so warm, so perfect holding me and in that moment that was all that mattered and I was going to tell him, I really was. But then I remembered how we parted and I went still in his arms, unable to look him in the eyes. “Did you manage to do everything you wanted to?” I responded with a question of my own, taking a few steps away from him, my tone more distant than I'd intended. I noticed the change in his expression, the confusion of my sudden mood change and then realization darkened his features. “Are you still mad at me, Amy?”“That depends,” I crossed my arms over my chest, “Are you going to tell me why you went to Russia and barely communicated with me for two whole weeks?”There it was. The chill in his expression I had now grown used to. What exactly was I to him? His wife? Or just another obligation to add to his list of responsibilities? A heavy silence descended between us and Roman let out a frustrated s
I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, running my fingers over my still-flat stomach. A part of me still had doubts but the three pregnancy tests hidden in my makeup bag, all positive said otherwise, and I still couldn't quite believe it. What I now realized was morning sickness among other things, had started weeks ago and I was constantly thinking I had a big or something My hand trembled slightly as I applied my mascara. Today would be perfect to tell him, after the meeting with his parents of course. I would tell him everything and we would figure it out together. Right? But something held me back, a nagging uncertainty that made my stomach clench with more than just morning sickness. Roman appeared in the doorway, looking unfairly handsome in his tailored black suit. His hair was still slightly damp from his shower, and he smelled of that expensive cologne I loved so much. But there was tension in his shoulders, a tightness around his eyes that made me hesit
“What?” Roman's eyes narrowed as he looked at his parents. Victoria seemed to be more shaken than she was surprised which meant that she knew about this decision. Roman, on the other hand, looked lost. His fists that rested on the dining table clenched tightly and I noticed how his breathing had slowed. Of all the things I expected Yaakov to say, this was not it. “I understand it came as a shock but…your mother and I have come to this decision after much deliberation,” Yaakov explained firmly, looking unfazed by his mind shattering announcement. Victoria scoffed, her lips twisting into a disdainful frown, “Did we both come to the decision or did you and your new cock sucker decide on it?”I'd never heard such vulgarity from Victoria before. She looked so pissed, face red with anger like she was about to explode. Yaakov's expression darkened when he heard her words and he turned abruptly to face her. For a moment I thought he was going to hit her but instead he slammed his fist do
The moment we stepped through our front door, the tension from the disastrous lunch seemed to melt away. Roman's hands found my waist, and before I could even set my purse down, he pulled me into a kiss that made my knees weak. His fingers traced delicate patterns on my face, thumbs brushing my cheeks with such tenderness that I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the underlying warmth that was uniquely him enveloped me, making me feel safe, and warm all over. His tongue traced my bottom lip before slowly entangling with mine and reached for his hair instinctively, burying my fingers in his silky locks and deepening our kiss. He pulled away slowly, his breathing was steady and his eyes were so intense I'd almost looked away. "I can't believe you kept this from me," he murmured against my lips. His blue eyes, still rimmed with residual emotion from our earlier confrontation with his parents, now held a different kind of intensity
The Carlton merger meeting had dragged on longer than expected, but we'd finally reached an agreement that satisfied all parties involved. As the board members gathered their papers and began filing out of the conference room, my phone buzzed against the polished mahogany table. Roman's name flashed across the screen, right on time as promised. A smile tugged at my lips as I reached for it, already imagining his impatient tone asking where I was.It was time to leave, I realized. We were supposed to have dinner. I'd been too lost in my thoughts and constant feeling of dread along with the meeting to remember our plans. But he did. I felt sort of bad. I could feel the weight of scrutinizing gazes from the remaining board members. They'd always viewed me with a mix of skepticism and barely concealed disdain, after all I had stopped letting my father control all of my decisions and I took charge of my position, dismissing Bertha when it was proven she could barely handle her role pr
The restaurant hummed with a soft, elegant ambiance that seemed to cocoon us from the outside world. Soft jazz played in the background, its mellow notes dancing around our intimate table. Roman had chosen a secluded corner, giving us the privacy I hadn't realized I needed after the day's emotional confrontation."We should do this more often," I said, taking a careful sip of my sparkling water. The crystal glass felt cool against my fingers, and I watched Roman's face – the way his eyes crinkled slightly when he smiled, the way the soft lighting caught the sheen in his dark hair.He raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "Go out to dinner? We do that quite frequently, my love."I rolled my eyes, the tension of earlier melting away with our familiar banter. "I mean just... be. Together. No work, no family drama, no complications. Just us."Roman's hand reached across the table, his fingers intertwining with mine. "Always," he said simply, and those one word carried more promise
"My... aunt?" The words felt foreign on my tongue, like speaking a language I'd never learned. My mind raced through memories of my mother, trying to recall if anyone had ever mentioned a sister of my mother's. But there was nothing – just empty spaces where family history should have been. But then again, my mother had led me to believe that her parents were dead and she was the only child. Alexander had told me that was a lie and that I had a few aunts and uncles but…I never imagined I would meet one. Much less one that looks so much like my mom. The woman took a step forward, and I instinctively backed up against the marble counter. She moved with a grace that seemed almost predatory, her designer dress whispering against the floor. Even her mannerisms were eerily similar to my mother's, down to the way she tilted her head slightly when she spoke. "Isabella," she said, her accent carrying hints of something Italian. "Your mother never mentioned me, did she? Of course not. Dian
I sat at my desk, absently clicking my pen against the stack of papers I should have been reviewing, my mind still caught in a loop of last night's events. The memory of Isabella's face – so eerily similar to my mother's – kept floating to the surface of my thoughts, making it impossible to focus on anything else.A soft knock on my door startled me from my reverie. Before I could respond, it swung open, and there he was – Alexander Guerrero, my brother, looking perfectly at ease in his usual black leather jacket and black jeans. Always acting like he was allergic to color. His presence in my office was as unexpected as a summer storm in winter."Surprise," he said, his lips curving into that familiar half-smile that always made him look like he knew something you didn't.I straightened in my chair, my pen falling forgotten to the desk. "Alexander? What are you... how long have you been in the country?" I asked with a narrowed gaze. I had sent the man a message last night, I didn't
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 paint l
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
AMELIAThe silence was almost like a living, breathing entity. It wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket, pressing against my chest, making each breath feel like a monumental effort. My body felt alien—a vessel that had somehow failed its most fundamental purpose. The white hospital walls seemed to close in, choking me yet at the same time those white walls managed to keep me calm despite the screams and wails I could hear in my head.Or perhaps it was just me, still recovering from the shock. Roman's voice broke through my fog, soft and tentative. "Do you need anything, Amy? Water? Another blanket?" His words were gentle, carefully constructed, as if speaking too loudly might shatter whatever fragile composure I was desperately trying to maintain.I turned my head slowly, mechanically, meeting his gaze. His eyes were rimmed with exhaustion and though I never saw it was obvious that he had cried. A concept that I'd never really associated with Roman up until that very moment.
T.W(Miscarriage) I had fallen back asleep. My body was probably unable to handle the exhaustion that came with my fear. Roman hadn't said a word to me which only served to make me feel worse. He just told me to wait till the doctor got there. My nerves were all over the fucking place and all that remained was fear. The world came into focus slowly, like a camera lens adjusting. White walls, the sterile smell of disinfectant, the soft beeping of medical equipment - everything screamed hospital. My body felt heavy, disconnected, as if I were floating just slightly above myself.Roman hadn't moved from my side. His hand was still clasped around mine, his thumb making small, repetitive circles on my skin - a gesture of comfort, of connection. I could see the strain in his face, the lines of worry etched deeply around his eyes and mouth. He looked so exhausted that my heart ached. But not just for his state, but because of mine. I could hear the blood rushing to my ears as my heart beg