All Chapters of The Forgotten Marriage: Chapter 231 - Chapter 240

AMELIAConsciousness returned to me slowly, like wading through thick fog. My head felt heavy, my thoughts scattered and unfocused as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. The last clear memory I had was of Vincent's embrace, the comfort of a friend's arms around me, and then... nothing. I opened my eyes slowly and noticed the ceiling, it was high and gray, long ropes or rather trinket like bulbs with crystals around them dangled over my head. My heart began to race and my fingers clenched as it became clear to me that I wasn't in my bedroom. I looked around in a panic and found white walls, even in the dim lighting, I could make out the paint. All I did was speak to Vincent…what the fuck? Now I found myself in an unfamiliar room, the air thick with the dusty scent of not being used for a long time and something else I couldn't quite identify.I noticed the white tarps that covered a few of the furniture, I couldn't see anything else beyond that.The darkness pressed in around

AMELIAFive days. One hundred and twenty hours of being trapped in this prison, each minute stretching into an eternity of helpless desperation. The room, with its elegant Italian furniture and sweeping views of Rome, had become my personal hell. They had taken off the covers from the furniture, told me it was once my mother's bedroom. I was in Guerrero manor, a family house in a fucking skyscraper. The highest room, a place my mother probably sought solace and now it was my cell. I'd tried every door, every window, even searched for hidden passages like some character in a gothic novel, but found nothing. The doors were sealed tight, the windows reinforced with something that wouldn't break no matter how hard I struck them. Even the beautiful crystal vase I'd hurled in desperation had merely bounced off, leaving not so much as a scratch.From my perch high above the city, I watched life continue below with a sense of surreal detachment. People moved through the streets like tiny d

ROMAN My finger tightened instinctively on the trigger as I studied my cousin, but something in his relaxed posture made me hesitate. He moved with an uncanny grace as he stepped closer, his cane barely touching the ground, more an accessory than a necessity. When he removed his sunglasses, I understood why – behind them, white orbs stared unseeingly ahead, yet somehow I felt more seen than I had in years. "The great Roman Volkov," Nikolai mused, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Always so quick to reach for your weapon. Some things never change, cousin." He moved past me with the confidence of someone who could see every obstacle, his cane making soft taps against the marble floor. "Though I must say, your taste in interior design has improved significantly." He spoke like we were close, but I'd only met the man once when I was younger…two years younger than me, a strange child that had no innocence left in him. There was an attack that left both his eyes damaged beyond repai

AMELIAOver a week had passed since I'd first woken in this goddamn bedroom, though time had begun to lose all meaning. The hope I'd initially clung to – that Roman would find me, that someone would notice my absence and come to my rescue – had slowly withered away like flowers left too long without water. I'd spent countless hours staring out at the skyline, watching the sun rise and set over ancient buildings that had witnessed centuries of human suffering. Now they were witnessing mine.My heart ached each time I saw people pass by, moving freely without knowing just how grateful they should be that they could. Marcus hadn't kissed a day of his visits, his constant torture and each day that passed brought me closer to the day he would finally act on his obvious urges that he's been talking about. He's going to start hurting me, not just mentally but physically. The got of it alone got him off. I'd seen him massage his dick a few times with his eyes on me, fantasizing of a day

AMELIAI cried myself back to sleep, my body was far too exhausted to do anything else. When I came to, Roman wasn't in the bedroom with me. Our bedroom. I was back home. It felt surreal seeing the familiar walls, the sheets, the scents. Everything made my eyes prickle with tears and the irony wasn't lost on me. Not too long ago I had wished to be out of here for good with no reason to return yet, here I was…happy to be back within three walls. My limbs felt heavy, like they didn't belong to me and my head felt like it wasn't a part of my body. I still felt out of it…a strange feeling that spread to my chest. Like I was out of place, like I didn't belong. For some reason, I half expected Marcus would open that door and walk in, sit right next to me and continue the torture I've been in for the past two weeks. It was possible. What did Roman do with him? I sat up slowly, my whole body groaning in protest. My vision spun and it took a few seconds for me to get my head in order.