One more chapter for today and then its back to studying.
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
I gathered my things, taking a moment to straighten the papers on my desk and slip my phone into my bag – a recent gift from Roman that still made me smile whenever I looked at it. To think we've both reached the point where he can openly give me gifts like these.And now there's a risk that I might lose everything because something tells me my mother's family won't be this gentle for long. The weight of my earlier conversation with Alexander lingered in the air, but I pushed it aside, determined to maintain some semblance of normalcy in my increasingly complicated life.Pausing at my secretary's desk on my way out, I adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder. "Hey,” I called out softly, “ I'll be having lunch outside today. Call me if anything urgent comes up." I made sure to keep my voice steady, not wanting to betray any of the turmoil churning beneath my calm mask.Sarah looked up from her computer screen, her efficient manner as present as always. Her fingers paused over her
The bell chimed softly as I pushed open the diner's door, and the familiar scent of coffee and grilled food wrapped around me like a warm embrace. My heels clicked against the checkered floor as I made my way inside, my eyes immediately finding Vincent in the booth by the window. The afternoon sun streaming through the glass caught his profile, highlighting the gentle curve of his smile as he spotted me.But he wasn't alone.The woman sitting beside him made my stomach twist uncomfortably. She was probably in her mid-thirties, dressed in a crisp black blazer that screamed corporate efficiency, her dark hair pulled back in a severe bun that seemed to pull her features just a bit too tight. As I approached, her eyes met mine, and despite her polite smile, there was something cold there, something that made me want to take a step back.Vincent stood up immediately, his entire face lighting up in that way that always made me feel stupidly special, like I was the best part of his day. "Ame
The lunch with Vincent felt like navigating through a thick fog of my own thoughts. My mind kept drifting back to Maria – her fearful glances, the way her hands trembled, the undercurrent of tension that seemed to vibrate between her and Vincent. The diner around us became a blur of muted sounds and half-noticed details.Like the soft clink of our movements, the hiss of the espresso machine, the low murmur of conversations blending into an indistinct background noise.Maybe it was the Guerrero family that was beginning to turn me into a paranoid fool. Because why the fuck would I be suspicious of Vincent? I definitely saw wrong…why would Maria be afraid of him? Vincent's voice cut through my scattered thoughts, his fork pausing midway to his mouth. The crisp shirt he wore caught the afternoon light, casting soft shadows across the table. His eyes, usually warm and understanding, now studied me with a mix of concern and curiosity that made me feel simultaneously exposed and frustrate
ROMANThe warmth of Amelia's body against mine lingered like a ghostly imprint even after she'd fallen asleep. Her breathing had softened into that delicate rhythm that meant complete surrender to exhaustion – something that didn't happen often for her these days. Her face, usually tense with unspoken worries, had smoothed out, revealing a vulnerability that made my chest tighten with complex emotions that still baffled me.The intensity of what I felt for her sometimes had me floored. I never imagined I could feel this strongly for anyone, I never imagined I could love this fiercely. Not even Bertha… Nor the women before her came close to Amelia. Which was why I was desperate to keep her by my side. Happy, satisfied. Yet, so many things have been coming up and in all honesty, I'd never felt so incompetent in my entire life. I moved carefully, each movement calculated to not disturb her. The moonlight cascading through our bedroom windows caught the subtle curve of her belly, a s
MARCUSWhat is a man without a craft? Without a passion? Without a purpose? I spent the first half of my life roaming endlessly, doing what was expected of me, doing everything a good son would do for parents as expectant as mine.A diploma, a degree, a doctorate, a phd, whatever the fuck i could achieve just to get them satisfied. It was never enough, they always wanted more, always thought I was capable of more.Then they died and i realized…fuck them!And the rest of the world thinks they can dictate the fate of a man like me. One capable of everything and so much…On the day i put those two fuckers in the ground, that was when i met her…Amelia Grayson.She didn't know who I was before she approached me, offering an umbrella I didn't even need at the time. I was enjoying the rain soaking me thoroughly but the second she offered, I realized that was the first time someone had offered something to me without asking for something else in return.Just plain kindness.I was enraptu
I was in the hospital for a few more days, under strict observation as the doctor wanted to make sure my blood pressure would be back normal and wouldn't become a complication. In those three days I stayed in the hospital, Roman tried as much as possible to spend his nights by my side while also juggling his work and mine. Colson still hadnt returned from his leave and when I asked Roman about it, he admitted that he hadn't heard from him in a while. Roman was exhausted, being stretched out to think and despite how well he hid his tiredness I could see right through his facade. We spent the evenings speaking about his past, or at least, the little parts he would tell me. The PG rated version of everything he'd experienced…and done. And even that in its own way was all shades of messed up. Still. He wasn't that person anymore… Though sometimes he spoke like…he missed it? "Tell me about your relationship with Alexander," I said, my tone deliberately neutral. I'd learned over ye
AMELIAThe hospital room seemed deathly quiet yet at the same time a certain kind of tension rose slowly as Jessica finally left the room, leaving only Roman and me. I watched as he fiddled, with the image from the scan and then sometimes my fingers, looking he intended to say something but yet kept deciding against it. I studied him carefully. The past hours had etched themselves into his face – deep lines around his eyes that hadn't existed before, a slight tremor in his usually rock-steady hands, the way his shoulders carried an invisible weight that seemed to press down on him with relentless gravity. He looked both familiar and foreign – my husband, yet someone I was still struggling to completely understand.He had a past. An entire life that I knew nothing about and I knew he intended to keep it that way because he feared what my reaction would be… I got a bit of an idea of what his life would've been like. Lonely. A child sent by a parent to assume a responsibility he was
Jessica's eyes darted between Roman and me, her gaze sharp and calculating. She was dressed in her coat, she looked like she'd just run over without any prior preparation, her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail. I looked between her and Roman, mirroring her actions as I wondered if he was the person who called her here or if she found out on her own that I was in here. She was fuming, hands crossed over her chest and a deadly glare being sent in Roman's direction. "Do you both have any idea how serious this is?" Her voice was a controlled explosion, each word measured but heavy with enough emotion to make the hospital room thick with tension. She wasn't just here as a friend, from the looks of things she was here as a doctor as well. Roman immediately looked chastened, his shoulders dropping several inches. I'd never seen him look so vulnerable, so stripped of his usual commanding presence. Today he looked that way and even worse.I was beginning to feel bad, thinking up words
When I woke up, the world reassembled itself in soft, sterile white and cream. The familiar antiseptic smell. The rhythmic, almost musical beeping of medical equipment creating a strange symphony that sobered me up completely. I was in a hospital, a rather spacious room from what I could see. My entire body felt like it didn't belong to me, except for my eyes that took in every detail of my surroundings. And Roman.He looked tired. Beyond exhaustion.There were dark circles beneath his eyes and an unusual slump of his shoulders. His blue eyes looked dull, pain filled as he stared down at his hand. His hair was disheveled, as though he had been running his fingers through it repeatedly.His hand was wrapped around mine. Not just holding. Clutching. As though I might disappear if he were to let go.Seeing him in that state made my heart ache. How long had he been by my side? How long have I been here? "Roman," I rasped, my voice was hoarse, like I'd swallowed a fucking frog.His r
“Oh I see…” Monica chuckled, I could already imagine her satisfied expression as she spoke. “You've gone silent because you realize you've lost, haven't you?”My brows furrowed, “You think this is a competition? You think this is something to be prideful about?” I scoffed, “You should be advising your daughter as her mother to not throw herself into a married man's lap, much less a man like Yaakov,” I shook my head, feeling immense disappointment at the woman on the other end. “But then again,” My voice turned dark, “Why am I surprised when you did the same thing to my mother?” I stated the obvious. Like mother, like daughter as they say. Monica probably didn't see anything wrong with what Bertha did because she saw it as nothing. And yet my mother is the one they call a whore.“You fucking bitch!” She screeched, “You're only mad because my Bertha has surpassed you…time and time again she has continued to surpass you in everything. What use is the son when we have the father? The
AMELIAThe moment Victoria's words hung in the air, time seemed to fracture. My heart raced, a thunderous rhythm that echoed in my ears, drowning out everything except the sudden roar of blood rushing through my veins. I stared at her, my mind struggling to process the accusation, my body frozen in disbelief."I don't…I don't know what you're talking about," I managed, my voice a careful whisper. Each word was measured, controlled, despite the hurricane of emotions swirling inside me.Because what the actual fuck does she mean by that?! Bertha…and Yaakov? Oh hell no! Even the image of it made my stomach churn yet, I could see the seriousness in Victoria's gaze and deep inside, I could see something that bordered on desperation. Victoria's perfectly manicured fingers – nails a, nude shade that caught the light with every movement, curled into fists. Her immaculate composure cracked, just for a moment. A hairline fracture in her usual porcelain exterior.She looked fucking stressed i
AMELIAAfter breakfast Roman decided he had a much better way to spend our day off. “You can't be serious,” I rolled my eyes, still I found myself watching intently as he pulled his shirt over his shoulders, heat pooling in my belly as those sharp blue eyes met mine with a glint of mischief in them. “I am very serious, Amy,” He took a slow step forward, and then another…and then another until his bare chest was pressed against my chest and his arms went around my waist. “Is it wrong of me to want to have a nap with my wife?” His lips stretched into a lazy smile and I chuckled, feeling his heart race against mine. “Of course not, but why do we have to do it naked?”He shrugs, “Body warmth is good for the baby,”I smacked his shoulder playfully but didn't pull away, instead I kissed him slowly, feeling his hardness press into my abdomen. I pulled away and smiled knowingly, “Just say what you really want,” I teased. He chuckled softly, “A nap…with benefits,” He confessed sheepishly
I huffed out in annoyance, taking a bit of my toast and glaring at the man. He had this all knowing expression on his face that I wished I could slap off it. He spoke like I was a child who couldn't own up to her actions. I hated it. For many reasons. “Yes,” After a long stretch of silence, I finally replied. I noticed he cocked up an interested brow but he didn't raise his eyes to meet mine anymore. He remained silent, as if trying to prove his point and I became increasingly annoyed. But I was more hungry, and I knew better than to poke a man who I'd seen kill another for too long. Even so…why was I conjuring up excuses for what I saw? Have I gone mad? The silence in the condo was suffocating, broken only by the distant sounds of Mexico City coming alive outside. Colson cleared the dishes from the table and proceeded to wash them. I didn't stop him. Instead I stood there watching as I let my mind shamelessly wander. I watched Colson move with a predatory grace that both ter