My back was covered in cold sweat as I tried to remember how to breathe, my heart was pounding hard against my ribs and I'd almost choked from the lack of oxygen. The man didn't move, I couldn't speak. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I knew I was insanely terrified by what was happening, I knew I was being robbed and any small movement would get me killed. I also knew that this wasn't the first time I'd experienced something like this. It was like a knife at the back of my skull, reminding me, making my head throb so much that I'd almost bent over and heaved. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't speak. My whole body trembled as my mind became bombarded with images of me being tied to a chair, my wrists bound so tightly that my skin had begun to bleed and seep into the thick tops, my throat was raw from screaming and my ankles hurt like hell. And in that moment, I remember thinking…no one will find me, no one will come to save me, this is where I'll die. “Please…”
“You fucking bastard!” Roman's hands left my shoulder and he fell to the floor with a heavy sound. The drunk robber tackling him and immediately pointing the gleaming blade at Roman's neck. “You wanna die? Huh?” I shook my head, my tongue heavy. Fear consumed me when I saw Roman in that position, he came here to help and now he was going to die. Just as I made the decision to stand and distract the robber, Roman's eyes darkened with anger and a dangerous glint that I've ever seen in them. His eyes remained fixated on the drunk man, looking like he didn't give a shit if there was a blade pointed at his neck. Instead, he grabbed the blade, with his bare hand, gripping it tightly and making me gasp in both fear and astonishment. “Roman!” I gasped out, reaching out for him but stopping the second he brought up his knee and buried it in the robber's stomach. Roman stood to his full height, not giving the man time to recover as he grabbed a fistful of the man's hair and
“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Bertha seethed the second the door closed behind her and everyone else left the room. I rolled my eyes and silently wished Roman hadn't left with everyone else, he was a much better companion than Bertha. Everyone had rushed over, no doubt Bertha had informed everyone because when she came in, her eyes were teary and her face swollen. Just how much did she need to cry? I observed the woman's face, her nose was still red but she still looked like an incomparable beauty. It annoyed me how she looked cute eben while crying while I looked like I'd been run over a few times after just one robbery. Victoria didn't last three minutes in the hospital room before leaving without a word and for some reason, she brought Tatyana with her. Which was what upset Roman so he left, again almost ignoring Bertha's crying…he looked uncomfortable. My guess was the man felt uncomfortable around people who cried, I understood immediately because I
“I don't know much of the details, but all I know is that you got hospitalized and when you woke up, well…” Jessica gestures at my body like I was supposed to understand what she meant. My brows furrowed deeply, I was still reeling from what she'd said. I risked my life to save Bertha? Again? For the nth time since I woke up with amnesia. That doesn't sound like something I would do. Ever. “You became you,” Jessica explained, still making weird gestures with her hands. I still have her a confused look and she looked rather exasperated. “Not current you,” She pointed out, “The you before this you,” She said, her hands finally falling to her sides as she sighed. “Do you understand?” She asked, looking like my confused expression was getting her frustrated. I cleared my throat, “I think I get the idea,” I nodded, “The meek person everyone expects me to be, I became like that after this mysterious attack?” Jessica nods. “And how long have we been friends?”
I was discharged the next morning after being given a few pain killers and had to undergo another CT scan just to he sure there were no anomalies in my brain and it was recovering from the trauma just fine. Roman arrived the next morning with a change of clothes for me, back to his cold self and even seemed to be in a worse mood. I thanked him for the clothes and changed. It was a loose red shirt and some black shorts, he didn't bring a bra or underwear. My cheeks heated up as i thought about him going through them before eventually deciding against it. I took a bath, grateful the hospital room was en suite. Very expensive as well. When I saw the bill for just one night I'd almost panicked. The health system is fucked, and I need to trying my best to stay well. Watching Roman pay the bills left me feeling indebted to him, and I knew I would have to pay or my mind wouldn't be at peace. Roman didn't say a word to me, but he didn't help me gather the rest of my
ROMANHer mouth… Her fucking lips were like ambrosia. The deeper I went in the more I wanted them. It was so soft, so warm and she fit perfectly against me. She tasted of lemons and fuck it was an addictive taste. Her tongue slithered against mine, not backing down, kissing me with as much fervor as I kissed her. I felt her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me lower to her height, my chest pressed against hers and I could feel her pebbled nipples poke through her shirt. She shuddered, releasing a small sound into our kiss and melting deeper into my arms. I didn't realize I was holding her waist, I didn't realize just how tightly I held her to me. Her teeth grazed my bottom lip and I felt my dick jump in my pants and– damn it! What are you doing, Roman?! My mind was clear, yelling at me, telling me to pull away but my body? My body wanted Amelia so damn much! My fingers explored her curves and then reached up to her hair, enjoying the little sounds she made when I ni
AMELIAWhat the fuck just happened? I put my palm to my palm to my chest, feeling how my heart pounded like I'd just run a marathon. I watched the door close shut and the scent of food filled the air. Yet, it barely registered as I was more focused on getting my lungs to work properly as well as my brain. My lips were tingling, a clear sign that the kiss was not just from my imagination. It was real, it happened and I…liked it? Did I? Fuck yeah you did! And you wanted more! “This can't be happening,” I shook my head, “I don't…like Roman,” I mumbled, I probably looked like a mad woman talking to herself as I paced the room and ran my fingers through my hair, making it even more disheveled. “I don't!” I voiced out, “It's…maybe it's something else?” Still, I could feel my heart racing and the ghost of feelings I couldn't remember. How did it happen? How did I fall in love with him in the past? And again, what the fuck just happened? Why did he taste so good? Why did m
NINE YEARS AGO The day my world shattered wasn't marked by storm clouds or ominous signs. Instead, the sun shone with cruel indifference, its warmth a stark contrast to the cold emptiness gnawing at my chest at. I stood before the mirror in my bedroom, barely recognizing the girl staring back at me. Her long black hair hung limp around a face too pale, too thin. Dark circles beneath eyes red-rimmed and a red nose from four nights of endless tears. I smoothed down the front of my simple black dress, the fabric feeling foreign against my skin. At sixteen, I'd never owned anything so somber. Mom would have hated it. She always said black washed me out, insisting I wear vibrant colors that "brought out the sparkle" in my green eyes. I'd always argue that my eyes had no sparkle, but she would make me wear the brighter shades nonetheless. But Mom wasn't here anymore. And today, I'd watch as they lowered her into the ground. A soft knock at the door jolted me from my thoughts.
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