“Is that really all there is to it?” “Yes,” Jessica nodded, though I could tell she wasn't entirely convinced. "Well, let's focus on us for now. We've got a whole vacation to enjoy!" As Jessica launched into her plans for our trip, I tried to push thoughts of Roman out of my mind. But part of me couldn't help wondering what he was doing now, alone in his room. Would he spend the entire vacation holed up there, or would he finally let himself relax and enjoy this beautiful place? I shook my head, forcing myself to focus on Jessica's excited chatter. This was my vacation too, after all. And I was determined to make the most of it, with or without Roman's participation. "So," I said, cutting into Jessica's monologue about the best local restaurants, "Tell me more about this shopping you mentioned. I think I need some new beach clothes," Jessica's eyes lit up, and she launched into a detailed description of all the boutiques we simply had to visit. She even had a list. As
Shopping for beachwear was hectic, Jessica didn't let me choose a one piece…contrary to what she picked for herself. She claimed this was my chance to get a new husband since I'd be on the market soon. Which I found utterly ridiculous, I don't want to be with any man…I never did. I'm not even sure how I ended up with Roman in the first place, not sure why I was drawn to him. Still, I liked some that she picked so I let her take the reins, instead I followed behind asking questions about my life just to put the pieces together. Apparently I had met Roman in Russia, not that I remember going there and when I returned I'd announced that I was in love. Only for him to return to the country a few weeks later with Bertha on his arm. But of course, his grandfather chose me as the wife…because of my mother, his goddaughter. So Roman had to leave Bertha and marry me against his will. That is enough reason to hate me, I was certain. Speaking of which, Roman was a no show
How many hours had gone by? I couldn't tell, all I knew was that I was awake but I couldn't move an inch. Breathing was almost a chore, my lungs seemed to have been paralyzed, along with the rest of me. My eyes were opened, at least it felt like they were. Golden, glowing orbs danced around in my blurry vision and my lips quivered from every attempt I made to speak. What was going on? My mind was a haze of scattered thoughts, of scattered memories my body seemed to reject. I didn't want to remember the look of that strange scar on the back of the strange man, or the strength in his grip when it held my throat, blocking air, making my eyes, nose, everything burn. I couldn't…I didn't want to remember! I had to find a way. Wake up Amelia! Wake the fuck up! “Well…well, Mrs. Wellington,” That…I heard that loud and clear. A deep, powerful voice pulled me out from the hazy depths of my mind. I felt a hot tear slide down the side of my face as my vision slowl
ROMANYEARS AGO… The harsh fluorescent lights of the locker room cast an eerie glow on my callused hands as I prepared for the mission ahead. Each piece of gear I carefully stowed away felt like another link in the chain of duty that bound me to this life. Roman Wellington, special agent for the Russian army – it sounded impressive on paper, but the reality was far more complex and morally ambiguous than anyone outside our world could imagine. This was a part of the world I chose that I couldn't tell my family. Not that they would care…they would prefer to use whatever connections I could get to benefit the family business. As I zipped up my tactical vest, my phone buzzed insistently. A message from Alexander. My stomach tightened. The man never reached out unless it was critical. I glanced around to ensure I was alone before opening it. "Target location: 43°46'23.3"N 11°15'01.7"E. Basement level, southeast corner. Two guards. Electronic lock. Code changes hourly. Current: 73
AMELIAAlexander was a man I didn't understand. In the past two days I've spent in his home or at least I assumed it was his home. The man acted like we were friends, he didn't try anything, didn't make any threats. True to his words, no harm came to me as long as I pretended the front door I always passed by didn't exist. Still, I couldn't tell how many times I'd caught myself staring long and hard at it before eventually looking away. Ever since I found myself in that kitchen with Roman, my life has been one dirt road to another. Now…for the first time in my life, I was kidnapped. The sunlight coming through the curtains cast a warm glow across Alexander's living room, illuminating the rows of paintings adorning the walls. I found myself once again drawn to a particular piece – a serene landscape of rolling hills and a tranquil lake that seemed to shimmer even on canvas. As I stood there, lost in thought, Alexander's voice broke through my reverie. "You seem quite taken wi
"Amelia," he said, his voice now clipped and authoritative, "I need you to go upstairs. Now." Confusion and a hint of fear washed over me as I looked into his hard, green eyes "What? Why? What's going on?" I tensed up when I saw his dark expression. "Please, just do as I say. Go to your room and stay there," I hesitated, torn between the urge to obey and the desire to understand what was happening. "Alexander, is everything okay? Are you in some kind of trouble?" His expression softened slightly, just for a moment. "This is for your benefit, not mine, " He said. Something in his tone – a mix of urgency and what almost sounded like concern – made me nod. "Alright," I agreed reluctantly. "But... you'll explain later?" Alexander's lips twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "If I can, yes. Now go." I nodded robotically, making my way to the room without another word. Countless thoughts swirling through my mind. As the hours went by, my thoughts turne
The drive back was awfully quiet. We had an entourage behind us, the fleet of cars I had seen all following closely behind and Roman didn't seem to notice, or maybe he did. They were with him. He brought all these people just to see Alexander? Who were they? Who was he? I had so many questions, but that dark look on his face had me biting my tongue and staying silent. Instead I found myself staring long and hard at his side profile. The deeper I looked, the more I saw the tired lines around his eyes and the tension in his jaw. His fists were clenched tightly around the poor steering wheel, his knuckles completely white. It must be uncomfortable. I thought to myself as I watched his muscular arm flex, his veins popping up even further. He wore a white dress shirt, the he rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, along with black pants that made me realize he was probably wearing a suit at some point. That wasn't what drew me to look at him longer, it was his hair, the
His tongue caressed every crevice of my mouth, eliciting moan after moans from my throat, every reason not to kiss him was forgotten, rather it was replaced by the irresistible urge to feel his skin against mine, to ride him and watch him come undone beneath me. His lips suddenly pulled away from mine, settling for my neck instead, his kiss was hot, his nibbles stung so good. They sent shivers down my spine, making my lower belly burn as I clenched and unclenched. My body was desperate for something I knew only Roman could give me. He never let go of my hair, not even as he littered kisses on the sensitive skin of my neck, then they lowered, stopping just above my collarbone. His lips were no longer touching my skin, rather they were replaced by the unmistakable heat of his heavy breaths. His body was stuff against mine, taut with tension as he pulled impossibly closer. I held my breath. Waiting for something, anything… Instead he was still. I had no idea what he w