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
AMELIAI once used to think that I wasn't meant to find happiness or deserve to be loved by anyone. Because my father and Monica stopped at nothing to remind me. My father's beatings and Monica's verbal abuses were enough to bring down my self esteem or rather burn it to ashes. Despite how much I claimed I stood up for myself, I was exactly what they said I was because I believed it. And now? “What are you thinking about?” Roman asked, his deep voice pulling me out from my thoughts. I looked down at the man and found his blue eyes staring back, alight with a familiar hunger I knew all too well, even as he helped place the bag of ice on my swollen ankle. “Does it hurt?” He asked softly, lowering his lips to plant a brief kiss on my right knee. His lips were warm and his kiss made my stomach flutters, especially when his intense gaze held mine in a magnetic stare. I couldn't bring myself to look away. I had thought I knew what love was. Until I accepted what I felt for Roman and
The warmth of Roman's lips lingered on mine as he finally decided to leave. His fingers traced the curve of my cheek, his touch so gentle it almost felt like a whisper against my skin. I watched him, my heart swelling with a mixture of love and that inexplicable fear that I couldn't quite shake.Everything else had faded into nothingness yet at the same time so much was at stake. "I've become more romantic these days, haven't I?" he said, a playful glint dancing in his blue eyes. The morning sunlight cascaded through our living room windows, casting a soft golden hue across his chiseled features.I couldn't help but laugh, a genuine, bubbling sound that surprised even myself. "More romantic? You've always been romantic, Roman. Just with a different... intensity." I replied with a chuckle, reaching for his stray strands and smoothing them over. He threw his head back and laughed, the sound rich and deep, filling our spacious living room. "Different intensity? What does that even mean
AMELIAVincent's movements seemed sluggish, almost mechanical.As more time passed, his usually vibrant energy seemed to have dulled, replaced by a weariness that hung around him like an invisible cloak. I watched him carefully, my instincts picking up on the subtle and yet obvious signs of exhaustion."Are you okay?" I asked, my voice soft with genuine concern. Despite how reluctant I was to ask from the beginning, Vincent was my friend and if something was bothering him then I needed to know…and maybe help. Maybe I was being too paranoid, thinking up shit that probably wasn't there. He laughed, but the sound was different this time. Hollow. Sad. A laugh that didn't reach his eyes, which seemed distant, lost in some internal landscape I couldn't see.“Well, I could tell you I'm fine and this conversation will probably need with you giving me that look you usually do when you hear a lie,”I raised a brow and he burst out laughing, “Yes, that exact look!” He pointed out humorously le
ROMAN“We've been unable to trace the number, sir.” Came the second disappointing reply for the day, from the one hacker Dimitri trusted enough to get the job done. My grip on my phone tightened as I struggled to rein in my emotions, my frustration almost spilling over. I was sick and tired of not getting fucking results. Of sitting behind a desk and waiting rather than taking every fucking action myself! Yet. I inhaled sharply and nodded though I knew the hacker couldn't see me. “Keep trying, Mr Fred,” I pressed, “If you succeed, I will triple whatever it was Dimitri offered to pay you,” I assured confidently. Money was not the problem, getting the location of that number was what was important. “Are you sure? My fees are quite high,” The man on the other line said, yet I could hear his resolve wavering. He was willing to do it, that much I knew. “Don't worry about that and just do what you're being paid to do,” Then I ended the call and resisted the urge to slam the phone h
ROMANMy father and I haven't spoken since I received the invitation to his wedding. Now, I wasn't claiming to be perfect. I was also unfaithful to my wife and hurt her in ways I would continue to regret for the rest of my life but him? He was making a decision that wouldn't benefit him in any way. He was going to lose the support of my mother's family and eventually be left with nothing. Just as my grandfather had predicted years ago. And out of all the women in the world, why did it have to be her? What was in it for Bertha? I watched with a narrowed gaze as she fiddled with the coffee mug in her grasp, her once blond hair was now shoulder length and her eyes were lowered, a small, seemingly content smile stretching her lips. Bertha. I wasn't sure what her reason for interrupting my lunch was but as much as I wanted to dismiss her presence, I also had questions of my own. We were in the coffee shop not too far from Wellington Corp. She had spotted me unfortunately and now
ROMANI laughed. I couldn't help myself. Bertha's words were by far the best punch-line to a joke I'd heard in a while. I shook my head, meeting her eyes for a split second before I burst out laughing again. By the time I had called, her face was red, from both embarrassment and anger. The corners of my lips twitched. What the hell was I doing here with her when I had a pregnant wife at home I couldn't wait to get back to. “you're a fucking joke!” I chuckled, then I held up a hand, stopping her from saying whatever it was she intended to, “This is my fault, I shouldn't have given you the time of day…” I sighed, “What a fucking waste of my lunch,” I rose from the leather seats and righted the lapels of my jacket. She stood as well, her blue eyes darkening with hurt and rage. “I am not lying, Roman,” She urged. I crossed my arms over my chest and raised a brow, “Really?” Sarcasm seeped into the question. “We've been broken up for almost four months now, I haven't touched you f
AMELIA“We should make her Jessica, after her beloved godmother,” Jessica argued on the other line, annoying me like she usually did. “Why would I name my child, Jessica?” I snorted, “Last thing I want is for my baby to look like you,”Jessica scoffed rather dramatically and I couldn't help but chuckle when I heard Alexander's laughter in the background. “Hey! What's wrong with how I look?! I'm a fucking angel!”“I agree,” Alexander chipped in and I rolled my eyes. Of course he does. “I don't have the time to argue with you two, I need my beauty rest,” I laughed, taking a bite of the cookie in front of me. “Alright, alright…” Jessica sighed, her tone turning more serious, “You better be resting properly,” She added in a stern tone. I nodded though I knew she couldn't see me. “Don't worry, I'll be careful,”She let out an exasperated breath and I could hear her pacing. “I don't like this Amelia, do you have to go back to work? You should just take a pregnancy leave or something,
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