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
I walked up the stairs, my mind filled with conflicting emotions. The shopping bags Amelia had given me felt heavier than they should, laden with a significance I wasn't ready to acknowledge. Reaching my room…which was once a guest room, I shut the door behind me and set the bags on the bed. For a moment, I just stared at them, reluctant to look inside. What could she have possibly bought for me? Why did I even care? An early birthday gift. She had said. My birthday is in three days, I figured she wouldn't remember, how exactly did she know about it? With a deep breath, I finally reached for the first bag. As I pulled out its contents, my breath caught in my throat. It was a tie, deep royal blue, the exact shade of that breathtaking dress she'd worn in the store. The material was silky smooth, clearly expensive. The second bag revealed a suit jacket and trousers in the same striking color. I held up the jacket, noticing immediately that it was slightly larger than my usual
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