All Chapters of The Forgotten Marriage: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Roman didn't come back to his house for three days, a decision I was grateful for because I wasn't sure how to face him now that he plagued my dreams like a fucking disease after that stupid kiss. I never should have let it happen, most especially before I made a bet that I wouldn't bail on this farce. The opening of the department stores was in two days, and I had no idea how I was going to walk into that place, hand in hand with a man I could not face. “Is there something bothering you, Miss Amelia?” Trenton asked as he handed me a glass of water and sat on the stool next to me. I met the man's kind eyes and forced a smile. “Not really…” I muttered, staring down my fiddling fingers. A bad habit I had when something was bothering me. No doubt, Trenton knew me well enough to know as well. “Actually…” I turned to look at Trenton with a curious gaze, “I do have a question,” Trenton nodded. “Why are you here?” I asked, “I mean, how did you end up being the Wellin

ROMANFIVE YEARS EARLIER I stared out the window of my Moscow apartment, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. The cool glass pressed against my forehead as I sighed, my breath fogging up the pane. My phone buzzed insistently on the nearby table, my father's name flashing on the screen. I knew I should answer it. I'd been avoiding my family's calls for weeks now, making excuses about being too busy with work. But the truth was, I just didn't want to talk to them. Every conversation left me feeling drained and irritated. The buzzing stopped, then started again almost immediately. I groaned, pushing myself away from the window and grabbing the phone. "Hello, Father," I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. "Roman! Finally, you answer. I've been trying to reach you for days," my father's gruff voice came through the speaker. "I've been busy. You know how it is with work," I replied, the lie coming easily to my lips. "Too busy to talk to your own father? Th

AMELIAThe dress I picked was the royal blue dress Roman had gotten for me when we went shopping. Mainly because I bought him a suit with the same color. A deep royal blue that I knew for a fact would look fantastic on him. There was a look in his eyes when I wore that dress, one that gave me a lot to think about. To see that look in his eyes again… No. I shook my head and watched my reflection. No need to think like a stupid person. Why would you want him to look at you with desire in his eyes? You don't want him! After pulling on the dress, I zipped it up as far as my hand could reach and proceeded to work on my hair. The event was starting in three hours and I had to be done in thirty minutes. After our so-called truce, Roman and I were now seemingly on good terms and quite frankly, he didn't annoy me as much but, a part of me dreaded going to the event. Not just because there'll be countless people staring but because I know he'll leave me alone to handle it a

“As much as I would love to take all the credit, all of this wouldn't have been possible without my wife here,” Roman announced, practically bragging as his warm arm came around my shoulder. His wife. There was that tingling feeling again. “Is that so?” Henderson’s eyss glinted with realization, “Well then I should be thanking you as well, Amelia, not only have you graced us with the presence of one as beautiful as you, you've also gifted us with such beauty,” He gestured at the wide expanse of the store. “You flatter me, Mr. Henderson,” I smiled like a fool, feeling my cheeks heat up as a compliment. He simply grinned and then nodded respectfully at Roman who now had a rather stiff expression on his face. “I will leave you two to attend to other guests,” Then he turned to me, “I do hope you will save a dance for me, Amelia…” My name sounded rather smooth on his tongue. He didn't call me Mrs. Wellington like the others and quite frankly, it was a breath of fresh air

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