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
I arrived at the office, my kind still trying to process everything that had happened that morning. The bustling energy of the workplace felt jarring after the unexpected warmth of breakfast and the heavy conversation I had with Greece. It was bound to happen sooner or later, I just hoped to God that it would change something between us. As I settled into my chair, I found myself unable to shake the lingering feelings of guilt and confusion that had taken root during the drive. Amelia's chilly response to my apology kept replaying in my head, a continuous loop of disappointment and barely concealed hurt. Why did it bother me so much? She had every right to be upset, and yet... the thought of her disappointment weighed on me more than I cared to admit. The harder I thought about it, the more I felt like an asshole. Seeing those green eyes gaze at me with such chill, far from what I was used to. Even after her amnesia, she never gave such a look. I could still hear the mea
The door opened, and there she was. Bertha Grayson, as beautiful as ever. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in perfect waves, catching the light from the window. Her blue eyes twinkled with an unexpected warmth, a far cry from the tears or anger I'd been expecting. She moved with a grace that had always captivated me, closing the door behind her with a soft click. "Roman," she said, her voice low and intimate. She glanced around, making sure we were alone, before approaching my desk with a sway in her hips that she knew I couldn't resist. Before I could stand or speak, she leaned in, planting a soft kiss on my cheek. The familiar scent of her perfume, jasmine, enveloped me. Then, to my surprise, she brushed her lips against mine in a tender kiss. It was gentle, almost hesitant, so unlike her. I found myself responding despite my earlier reservations, a part of me craving the familiar comfort of her touch. When she pulled away, I saw a mix of emotions in her eyes. Lov
AMELIAI stood by the window of my bedroom, gazing out at the manicured gardens of the Wellington estate. The beauty of the landscape did little to ease the turmoil in my mind. These past few weeks had been a whirlwind of confusion and conflicting emotions, leaving me feeling adrift in a sea of uncertainty. My thoughts inevitably drifted to Roman. Our last conversation played on repeat in my head, his words both a comfort and a source of bewilderment. "I want us to be friends, Amelia," he had said, his blue eyes intense and unreadable. And sure, those were originally mt words, something I had genuinely wished for but Roman…he is a complicated man. He had apologized, like he meant it. Said words that left me tongue-tied. But I couldn't bring myself to believe him. He will never like, nor will he trust me. Last night made that very clear. He is in love with Bertha and whatever she tells him is what he will believe. Why do I even try? Why can't I bring myself to leave him.