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.
I went through the schedule Roman had given me quite a few times, trying to commit to memory or, in this case, mentally preparing myself for the days I would have to spend by his side.It was easy to converse with him when either Trenton or Greece was present, I could pretend for a few minutes that he was not the same man who saw me as a loose woman without morals. Part of the reason why I kept my recent visits to Vincent a secret, though I knew deep down that there was no need to.Why didn't I want to face him?What was truly scaring me?I honestly had no answer to those questions, all I knew was that it was becoming increasingly to ignore him.It has only been three days since the opening of the department store and what I thought would be a good opportunity to get closer to the man became a disaster. Especially now, when he is always in a bad mood and locked up in his study.I didn't want to notice, but I did.He hasn't left his study except to eat and sometimes, he rejects his food
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
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.