There's so much I want to say to him, yet I knew it would be better to stay silent. I didn't trust myself to speak around him anymore, I seem to say the most stupid shit when I look into his eyes. Unlike what it looked like the last time I saw it, the department store looked magnificent. It was finished, higher than I remembered and painted a golden and silver shade that made the entrance alone scream luxury. Roman's arm was around my waist as the driver rounded the corner and we stepped down. Reporters and countless cameras flooded the entrance, all rushing towards us and asking a flurry of questions that I struggled to grasp. What bothered me was the flashes from the cameras, they felt uncomfortable and had my heart racing faster than necessary. I slowly tensed, panic rising in my throat as my ears rang and all the tiny hairs on my skin stood on alert. I didn't like it one bit. I couldn't see a thing, I couldn't understand why seeing so many flashes affected me,
“As much as I would love to take all the credit, all of this wouldn't have been possible without my wife here,” Roman announced, practically bragging as his warm arm came around my shoulder. His wife. There was that tingling feeling again. “Is that so?” Henderson’s eyss glinted with realization, “Well then I should be thanking you as well, Amelia, not only have you graced us with the presence of one as beautiful as you, you've also gifted us with such beauty,” He gestured at the wide expanse of the store. “You flatter me, Mr. Henderson,” I smiled like a fool, feeling my cheeks heat up as a compliment. He simply grinned and then nodded respectfully at Roman who now had a rather stiff expression on his face. “I will leave you two to attend to other guests,” Then he turned to me, “I do hope you will save a dance for me, Amelia…” My name sounded rather smooth on his tongue. He didn't call me Mrs. Wellington like the others and quite frankly, it was a breath of fresh air
After the dance, Roman and I were practically dragged away from each other before we even has the time today register or explain whatever it was that had just happened between us. “Let me borrow your wife for a bit,” I heard Greece say rather sheepishly, when I turned around I was surprised to find she was standing with her mother, Victoria. Now, I wouldn't have cared if it were only Greece but…with Victoria? The woman who hates me just for the fun of it? I turned to Roman for help. I gave him a pleading gaze, one he couldn't see through because he was probably too busy avoiding his mother's eyes. It seems they still weren't on good terms after the Tatyana drama. Speaking of which…Tatyana stood next to Victoria. Damn the woman was beautiful, she had shapely legs that went on for days. Honestly, if I swung that way I would definitely want her to have my babies. Multiple. “Of course,” Roman said stiffly, letting go of my hand and surrendering me to the wolve
This event should have been over a long fucking time ago. I plastered on a fake smile as Victoria led me towards a group of about fifteen women seated around an ornate round table. They were all dressed to the nines, dripping in expensive jewelry and designer gowns. As we approached, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being led to the slaughter. A few faces seemed vaguely familiar, but their names eluded me. One woman with striking red hair and emerald earrings the size of grapes gave me a particularly icy stare. Another, a blonde with severe features, wrinkled her nose as if she'd smelled something unpleasant. "Ladies," Victoria announced, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "I've brought Amelia to join us," She said. The woman never ceases to amaze me at how easily her demeanor can switch. Then again, to be the mother and wife of a Tycoon as wealthy as Roman and Yaakov, one would have to be pretentious to keep the business going. She turned to Greece, who had b
I hesitated in the doorway, my mind racing. The last thing I needed right now was another confrontation, especially with Bertha. But the sight of Greece's tear-stained face tugged at something inside me. Before I could think better of it, I stepped into the bathroom and let the door swing shut behind me. "Well, well," Bertha drawled, her eyes raking over my champagne-soaked dress. "Looks like someone had a little accident," She commented with a bit too much joy in her tone. I'm sure she was pissed off at me at that moment. I ignored her, focusing instead on Greece. "Are you okay?" I asked softly. Greece nodded quickly, wiping at her eyes. "I'm fine," she mumbled, not meeting my gaze. "Oh, Amelia," Bertha scoffed. "We all know you're just here to lick your wounds." I whirled on her, my patience finally snapping. "And what exactly are you still doing here, Bertha? Can’t you see me talking to my sister in law?" I snapped at her, knowing fully well it wasn't just the anger fr
It was easy getting out of there, Greece had her own car and her driver was no where to be found. She drove us down to Roman's mansion, talking about who I was as we passed by the lit up streets. Apparently I was a woman who barely showed emotion or cared about anything if it wasn't business or Roman. Like a husk of a person who only thrived on work and a man who would never love me. I sounded pathetic, and I couldn't help the slight shame I felt the more she spoke about it. Once we reached the mansion, Greece asked for some clothes which came as a surprise to me. I'd imagined she would even have a dress in her brother's house. The house was quiet when we came in, it seemed the maids and Trenton had fallen asleep. We moved as quietly as we could. I begrudgingly took off my dress, feeling a twinge of anger the longer I stared at it. Those bitches ruined my night and heavens help me I wanted to have my revenge so badly. We both took a shower and met up in the livin
ROMAN I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, the harsh fluorescent light doing nothing to hide the bags under my eyes or the pallor of my skin. My head throbbed with each movement, a painful reminder of last night's overindulgence. I left the event after my mother confirmed Amelia and Bertha had left together. Colson, the bastard, dragged me to a bar because he thought I looked stressed…of course I did! Henderson kept oogling at Amelia like she was a fucking meal and Tatyana buzzed around me constantly all night, trying to get me to fuck her. It was an insane night, it didn't go the way I planned, not one bit. As I mechanically brushed my teeth, I couldn't help but cringe at the flashes of memory that assaulted me. "You're such an idiot, Roman," I muttered to myself, spitting into the sink. The taste of mint did little to wash away the bitterness of regret that lingered on my tongue. What the hell had I been thinking? Getting drunk like some college fre
ROMAN After breakfast, I headed upstairs to get ready for work, my mind still reeling from the unexpected warmth of the morning. As I knotted my tie, I could hear laughter drifting up from the kitchen - Amelia and Greece, still chatting and giggling as they cleaned up. The sound was foreign in this house, but not unwelcome. I made my way back downstairs, briefcase in hand, pausing at the kitchen doorway. Amelia was at the sink, sleeves rolled up as she washed dishes, while Greece dried them, both still wearing their flour-covered aprons. They were in the middle of some story, Greece's eyes sparkling as she gestured animatedly with a dish towel. "...and then he just stood there, covered head to toe in mud, trying to look dignified!" Greece finished, dissolving into giggles. Amelia threw her head back, laughing so hard she had to grip the edge of the sink. "Oh my God, I can just picture it! Please tell me there are photos!" "Sadly, no," Greece said, wiping tears of laughter fro
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