Yaakov’s grand ballroom glittered with enough crystal and gold to make my fucking eyes burn with irritation, or maybe that was just the tension headache building behind my temples. Yaakov's hand pressed firmly against my lower back as he guided me through the crowd, his touch both possessive and protective. I could feel the weight of dozens of eyes following our movement across the polished marble floor.I wish I could say I could ignore the hostile and condescending glances, but it already had me on edge, along with Roman's threats. "Mrs. Wellington," they greeted me, one after another, their smiles not quite reaching their eyes. I played my part perfectly – the adoring young wife, one hand resting protectively over my swollen belly as I smiled and nodded and pretended I couldn't hear the whispers that followed in our wake."Can you believe she had the nerve to show up here?""...broke up his marriage to Victoria...""...lost the backing of the entire Richardson family because of he
AMELIAOnce the clock struck ten pm, I knew it was going to be the worst night of my life. Amelia Grayson, EXPELLED. I read the email with tightly clenched fists, unable to stop the anger that spread through my chest. I spent two whole years working on my application, getting a fucking scholarship into the most prestigious university in the country and yet, I had just been expelled. The reasons? Nudity, leaving the hostel past curfew, stealing, bullying, and abusing fellow students both physically and verbally. “You got to be fucking kidding me,” I let out a shaky sigh, unable to contain my anger. The list went on and it had only one person’s name written on it. Bertha. My step-sister. My father’s illegitimate turned legitimate child and of course the family's golden child. I grabbed my phone from the table, still with the email open as I left my bedroom and stomped downstairs with a dark expression. Everything else, she could take away, everything else, she could steal fr
ROMANI knew it was going to be the worst evening in a while once the clock struck ten pm. My alarm rang and I blinked myself back to reality, the realization dawning on me that I’d worked overtime, again. Unintended but then again, a part of me just like every other day, dreading going back home. There was nothing to look forward to, just Amelia, my empty, bore of a wife who trapped me in a marriage just as empty as she is. In the three years since we've been married, it has taken great heights of my self-control not to break the promise I made to my grandfather. To stay settled with the daughter of his god-daughter, to have an heir for the Wellington empire before I am thirty-five. That’s in four fucking years, and quite frankly I have no interest in keeping that promise. The first and last time I kissed that woman still haunted me, the sheer disgust and hatred I have for her forbids me from ever doing it again! I paged my assistant and grabbed the divorce papers my lawyer had
AMELIAMy head ached so badly that I cried out, and along with my stomach ache it felt like I was intentionally being tortured. I heard voices, both familiar and unfamiliar, I heard the urgency of that man's voice…I heard his anger although this time not directed at me. Strangely while I floated in the darkness, I was aware of everything around me, the man barking out instructions to another nervous-sounding man. A doctor, I assumed. I felt the softness of a mattress beneath me and the sting of spirit coming in contact with my open wounds. Then the unmistakable feeling of an IV needle being stuck in my arm. After a while, it all quietened and the aches eased. My eyes opened groggily, my vision blurry at first as I tried to regain my composure. Then memories of what happened a few hours ago came rushing in and my eyes snapped open completely and I lifted off the bed with a gasp, my eyes wide with shock. Shit! Shit! What the fuck is going on? Where am I? I looked around in a
AMELIAI watched with a blank expression as a nervous-looking man with a doctor's briefcase walked into the bedroom. Getting into the bedroom wasn’t an easy feat, it took Trenton convincing Roman he didn’t have to throw me over his shoulder…the fucking psycho. For a man who claimed to be my husband, he sure acted like I was his lifelong nemesis. I was seated at the edge of the bed while being questioned. “What is the last thing you remember?” The nervous man said, Dr. Britton, he called himself and I wondered if I was supposed to remember him too. “I got expelled, I ran away from home, now I’m here,” I said, leaving out the part where I eagerly wanted a truck to hit me intentionally. Roman's brooding expression darkened even further as I spoke and Trenton’s was filled with worry. Dr. Britton nodded with an understanding gaze, checked my eyes, my mobility, asked about my headache and stomach ache, what I ate last—which I didn’t remember—shocker. After what seemed to be hours but
AMELIAI spent the rest of the day in the bedroom I’d slept in.Roman’s warning was enough to keep me livid for the better half of the day, rethinking my life choices, including the ones I couldn’t remember.Now I had a birthday party to attend…my supposed father-in-law who I knew nothing about. The more time passed, the more worried I became.I found a phone I was sure belonged to me, seeing as the wedding portrait was on the lock screen. There was no way it would belong to Roman who hated me.I didn’t know the password. I tossed it aside with a frustrated sigh, my eyes landed on the clock by the bed and I realized I had to get ready.Roman had said 6:30, it was 6 pm.Begrudgingly I walked into the rather spacious walk-in closet and ruffled through my side.Again, I found nothing sensible enough to wear out, just long, loose dresses that looked more like maternity gowns. Then suits…why the hell did I buy so many suits?I ended up settling for a dress I remembered, one I bought a few
AMELIABreathe, Amelia. I reminded myself, my feet rooted to the spot as my sister's familiar eyes met mine. The deadly glare, the venom with no hint of shame or guilt that I had just found her kissing the man who called himself my husband. Though it seemed to me like I had only just seen her two days ago, when she reminded me I was the daughter of a dead whore, looking at her now invited a strange feeling. Like I had not seen her in a long time. Still, that anger and hatred at the immediate sight of her grew even more now that I saw her in Roman's arms. My head began to throb incessantly. “Um…” I was unsure of what to say, unsure of what I had just walked into. Roman visibly tensed up at the sight of me, taking an immediate step back and holding Bertha at arm's length. He cleared his throat, his expression cloudy as he looked at me. “Is this…” My throat felt dry, “Why you were so eager to divorce me? Because you’re…with my sister?” I hated how my voice shook when I
ROMANI made my way down the stairs with confusing emotions. Amelia just agreed to divorce me. The same Amelia who spent the past three years of our marriage trying to dissuade the topic as much as she could. The same Amelia who had threatened me that she would take her own life if I left her. The last time she walked into Bertha and I kissing, she cried for days, she ended up hospitalized, not that I ever bothered to check her, I never cared. Today she looked on like it was a joke. She seemed irritated, not hurt. My fingers unconsciously reached up to my chest, unable to fathom why my heart felt so tight, why the reality of her acceptance didn’t sink in. Probably because I spent too long thinking she’d never free me, now she has. Once we get back home, she’ll really sign the papers. “Roman!” my father called out, laughing heartily as he held a hand out for me. His aged eyes crinkled at the sides with false fatherly affection as he urged me closer, pulling me out fro
Yaakov’s grand ballroom glittered with enough crystal and gold to make my fucking eyes burn with irritation, or maybe that was just the tension headache building behind my temples. Yaakov's hand pressed firmly against my lower back as he guided me through the crowd, his touch both possessive and protective. I could feel the weight of dozens of eyes following our movement across the polished marble floor.I wish I could say I could ignore the hostile and condescending glances, but it already had me on edge, along with Roman's threats. "Mrs. Wellington," they greeted me, one after another, their smiles not quite reaching their eyes. I played my part perfectly – the adoring young wife, one hand resting protectively over my swollen belly as I smiled and nodded and pretended I couldn't hear the whispers that followed in our wake."Can you believe she had the nerve to show up here?""...broke up his marriage to Victoria...""...lost the backing of the entire Richardson family because of he
BERTHAI stood frozen in the doorway, my heart hammering against my ribs as I stared up at Roman. The corridor light cast shadows across his face, making his expression even more unreadable. My fingers gripped the doorframe for support, suddenly feeling like my legs might give out beneath me.“Roman,” I breathed out shakily, I managed to force a smile but I could tell it looked more like a wince. "W-why are you here?" I managed to ask, hating how my voice trembled. He should have been with Amelia right now, shouldn't he? Amelia had just lost their baby, after all.I hear he hasn't left her side in the past few weeks so, why is he here? What could he possibly want with me? A niggling viuce at the back of my mind had an idea, but I easily dismissed it. No. He couldn't be here for that! The thought made something twist uncomfortably in my stomach as I unconsciously placed a protective hand over my own swollen belly.Roman's lips curved into what might have been a smile, but it didn
BERTHAI stared at my reflection in the large vanity mirror, my fingers trembling with barely contained rage as I adjusted the diamond pendant around my neck. The weight of it felt suffocating, much like everything else in this oppressive fucking mansion. The warm golden light from the lamps above should have made me look radiant, but all I could see was the storm brewing in my dark eyes.Here in this mansion, I felt like a dolled up trinket, just kept here to look pretty, to bear a child that Yaakov can fully mold as he wants.The gala invitation lay mockingly on the corner of my vanity, its gold-embossed lettering catching the light. "Mr. and Mrs. Wellington," it read, as if I was supposed to feel honored to be attending as Yaakov Wellington's wife. I sneered at my reflection, watching as the expression twisted my carefully made-up features. The deep burgundy lipstick I'd chosen suddenly seemed too harsh against my pale skin, but it matched my mood perfectly.I had cut my hair short
AMELIAThe hours crawled by with excruciating slowness. Jessica and I sat in the living room, remnants of our lunch spread across the coffee table, neither of us having much appetite. The black car hadn't returned, but I kept glancing out the window anyway, expecting—or dreading—to see it again.I knew something was going on, deep down I knew that the little peace we'd managed to enjoy these past few weeks was already over. I knew it the second I woke up in that hospital. I knew it the second I was told I lost my baby. "You should try to eat something," Jessica said, pushing a container of pasta toward me, looking rather cautious. She's been that way for a while, like she's unsure of what to say, scared that a word might trigger me or something like that. I shook my head. "I can't. My stomach's in knots." I admitted with full honesty. My heart felt heavy and there was the sense of impending doom that I kept trying to push down. Roman and I were…not okay, that much I knew. Eating a
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 pai
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