My father never really cared about what went on in my life, after my mother died, it became even worse because not only did he not care, he only gave a fuck when I had something Bertha wanted. Now there’s Roman, handsome, enigmatic, asshole. Who I supposedly fell in love with, with no support from my family or his parents, just his grandfather and an unknown agreement made with my mother before she passed. I let out a heavy sigh, staring at the ceiling like a lost child. Probably because I was utterly lost, I felt like I was float on space, hands trying to grab on to a solid handle. After changing into different clothes, relieving myself of the juice stained suit, I spent about thirty minutes staring into space and trying to convince myself not to have a mini-mental breakdown from just how overwhelming the last few days have been. But sometimes I feel the tears just at the brim, threatening to fall. Then I through my contacts again and realized just how sad my life was.
ROMANThe sun had fallen into the horizon and the moon had risen, yet clouds shielded it’s light and left the night dark and gloomy. Much like my mood. I sat in the garden, a glass of whiskey in hand as I stared off into the distance. I sat there wondering when I’d become a man with misplaced priorities. There was so much at the company I needed to set straight, so much with Bertha I needed to fix yet, here I was, staring up at the sky like a fool, her voice ringing in my ears, her words repeating like an omen. ‘Why don’t you let go?’ She had asked. ‘I’m a person too,’ she had said. Those words resonated in my and now they plagued me. And it made me wonder if I’ve ever given her a reason to think otherwise. Of course she’s a person! Or, maybe it’s just me, who hasn’t seen her that way since we married. When we had only just met, I had no impression of Amelia because she practically blended into the background like she belonged there, and when she was finally out in
AMELIAThe next morning came slower than I wanted it to, my night though, was over the second it began. Looking around the spacious room, I felt so cold and lonely on that king-sized bed. What use is having a mansion if it’s this empty? Thinking back to me and Matteo’s final conversation the previous day, my eyes began to water and I had to fight back tears. I will not cry over it again. Soon, I’ll leave, I just need to grasp everything properly, understand what my role in my mother’s company truly is, understand why I was poisoned. Then I’ll move out of this mansion, get a small place by the country side, assign someone capable or work from home. Anything will be better than living with a man who hates me. With a frustrated sigh, I got off the bed and made my way to the bathroom, washing up and fixing my hair. Staring at my reflection longer than necessary, the sight never did appeal to me. Even now, I looked worse. My eyes were bloodshot and my skin was pale, my cheek
The first challenge is getting accustomed to everything new. The advanced smartphones, the changes in the city that made me feel lost though I was raised in it, an apartment. I thought to myself as the car pulled to a stop in front of a small building that had a large sign in front of it. ‘For The Specials And For The Lost’ My brows pulled together as I turned to look at Vincent with a questioning gaze. “Where are we?” I asked. “A place where those clothes would be much appreciated,” He replied, gesturing at the large luggage behind us. I nodded, strangely I trusted the man. Maybe because he was the first friend I was making since I woke up or maybe it was just his smile. Somehow I knew I could trust Vincent. The place turned out to be a home for kids who had aged out of the system and had no means to go on. Kids my age, or at least, the age I remembered. They reminded me of myself, being all alone with no one, with no favors, no luck. Vincent and I were welc
“Look who’s finally decided to join us,” Roman's mother spat, sounding more displeased by the idea despite the fact that she was the person who called for the meeting. I stayed silent, making my way towards the table and then observing the seating arrangements, it bothered me. “Here I was thinking you would reject the invite and insult me again,” She added snidely, she was smiling yet her tone spoke otherwise. “Victoria,” Roman’s father, Yaakov called out, like a reprimand. That got her silent, and everyone’s eyes were already on me, eager to hear my response and watch me make a fool out of myself. I bit my tongue and took the seat between Roman and Greece, I preferred sitting close to him than the only available seat that was right between Bertha and my father, no doubt saved for me. Greece met my eyes for a few seconds and mouthed the word ‘hi' before looking away like she feared being caught. An awkward silence settled when I didn’t say a word in regards to Victori
Roman left the private dining area the second sweet little Tatyana Taylor came in and introduced herself. I had to stop my amusement from showing on my face but I could tell just father and Monica were not pleased, Bertha's expression was even worse and Roman's? Well he walked out. Victoria called pit to him angrily and I got up with an apologetic smile, nodding at everyone before following behind him. It is only proper that his wife follows. A good excuse to leave, finally. I found him in the parking lot, leaning on his car, frantically trying to light up a cigarette but his lighter seemed to be having issues. I didn't know he smoked. His perfect brown hair was touseled like he's ran his fingers through it a few times. Seeing him so frantic and tired made me almost feel sorry for him. His foot tapped impatiently as the lighter clicked repeatedly and from the low growls that left his throat I could tell he was reaching his wit's end. He didn't even notice
Roman didn't say another word, his expression was grim as we drove through the city. Again I was in awe of so many changes that had been made, willing myself to look away from him and staring at the view appreciatively, then I remembered something. I turned to look at him, my nerves spiking up as I tried to figure out the best way to tell him what I needed to. When we reached a familiar road I knew was close to his estate, I cleared my throat and summoned false courage. “Roman?” He didn't say a word, but his gaze drifted to the side, acknowledging my call. “I have a favor to ask before we get back to your house,” His eyes narrowed as he stared ahead, he shook his head. “I can not make any detours for you, Amelia, I will drop you off and get back to work,” He said firmly, not bothering to hear me out. The asshole, to think I'd almost considered being nicer to him. I bit my tongue and nodded, disappointment spreading through my chest. “That's alright,” I repli
ROMANTo say I was exhausted would be an understatement. I found myself rethinking every decision I took that led me to this point. On the opposite side of Bertha, on the receiving end of my mother's constant plotting and my father's usual silence. I never once expected him to speak up for me, or tell my mother it was none of her fucking business if I decided to have kids with Amelia or not. Which will never happen. I was exhausted by how slowly the investigation was going, I wanted to know who it was that tailed my car a few weeks ago and why. I feared what I would find yet I was eager to get to the bottom of it. No one has asked how I'm doing…all they speak about is how difficult my decisions make things for them and how they have better ways of tackling the situation. If they can all run it so perfectly, then why the fuck have I spent five years of my life slaving away for them? For this fucking company? Not even Bertha has tried to find out how hard it has been for
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