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
“Hmm…” There was so much going through just kind at that moment yet at the same time, it was blank, I couldn't string along a single thought, not with the way his tongue danced acrossed my skin, leaving a trail of wetness from my nipple to my neck. My hands were all over his body, itching to touch every part of him, craving the feel of his hot skin against my palms. I pulled his shirt out of his pants and trailer my fingers up his sculpted abdomen. He was hard, yet his skin was smooth, soft. I wanted to touch him more, enjoying how he stilled and groaned into my neck. “Amelia…” “Mm…” I felt his dick jump, growing harder as it pressed dangerously close to where I wanted it. My hands trailed down slowly, mimicking the actions of his tongue. I unbuckled his belt with one hand, using my other hand to hold on to his shoulder and steady myself. I lowered his zip, my thumb brushing against his dick from his briefs. I held him in my hand, weighing and squeezing gently,
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