Amelia awoke slowly, blinking at an unfamiliar ceiling.
Soft light came through curtains she didn’t know and for a confused second she forgot where she was.
And then it all came flooding back – the banquet, the kiss, the contract, the kidnapping, the office, the truth.
The whole thing hit her in the chest like waves on rocks.
She sat up quickly.
Her body ached, her head throbbed, her eyes were puffy from crying.
She looked around.
The elegant furnishings, the warm colors, the fireplace burned down to embers.
Damien’s house.
Exactly.
She was in the spare bedroom.
And Sophia was somewhere nearby.
She jumped up too hastily, throwing off the blanket and putting her feet on the cold floor.
The room tilted and she grabbed the bedpost to steady herself breathing deep-in, out, in, out-until the spinning stopped.
Her legs weak, as if they had not carried her weight for years, she walked toward the door slowly.
The hallway was quiet and empty and peaceful, everything the night before had not been.
She padded barefoot across the floor to Sophia’s room and stopped outside the door to listen.
Nothing.
She tapped lightly.
‘Sophia?’
Silence.
Then a voice, unsteady.
“Come in here.”
She pushed open the door.
Sophia sat up in bed, hair tussled, eyes still weary, dark marks still around her wrists.
But she was up.
Alive.
Still alive.
Here .
Amelia crossed the room to the edge of a bed and perched.
“How do you feel?”
Sophia let out a little laugh.
“Like I’d been hit by a truck.”
Amelia’s throat grew tight.
“I’m so sorry.
Sophia reached out and took her hand.
“Quit saying sorry.” “But I mean it.
Her voice grew hard.
You didn’t do this to me.
Amelia looked down.
Sophia took her hand.
“Your father did.
The words hung thick in the air.
Amelia nodded slowly.
“I know.
Sophia looked at her face.
“You look worse than I do.
Amelia chuckled softly.
“Thank you.
“I mean it.” Sophia stepped forward.
“When have you had a good night’s sleep last time?”
Amelia thought about it seriously, truly.
Years.
Sophia’s face relaxed.
“Amelia…”
“Don’t.” Amelia shook her head.
“I can’t take sympathy right now.” “What can you take then?”
“Truthfulness.
Again Sophia squeezed her hand.
“Fine.
She drew a breath.
Last night was terrible.
I felt like I was gonna die.
The confession hit hard and Amelia felt tears sting her eyes.
“I kept thinking about you,” Sophia continued, her voice breaking a little.
“About never seeing you again.”
Amelia hugged her tight.
I’m here,” she whispered.
I’m here.
You’re safe.
“I’m not going anywhere.
Sophia wept silently into her shoulder, not loud, just silent tears that let loose all the fear, the terror, the relief.
They stood like that for a long moment, until Sophia pulled away and wiped her eyes.
“So.She took a shaky breath. ” And what happens then?
“I don’t know,” she said.
It felt strange to hear the words come from her lips.
She’d always known it.
Always had a plan.
Always had the reins.
But now everything seemed uncertain.
Sophia looked at her.
“Damien?”
“What of him?”
Sophia’s eyes narrowed a bit.
“He sounds serious.”
Amelia laughed.
“Understatement.
“He didn’t leave you last night,” Sophia said.
“Even when you helped me.
I saw him.
He was always watching you.
“Don’t know what to make of him.” “Why not?
“Because he lied. He was investigating my family before I even met him.”
Sophia frowned.
‘Investigation?
‘My father murdered his father.” The words were flat and dead.
Odd.
Almost surreal.”Five years ago, Damien’s father had been investigating Laurent Group.
“My father had him killed.
Sophia’s eyes widened.
“What?”
“I know.” “Your father–” “I know.
“Murder?” “I know.
The word sat between them, horrible and unbelievable, but true.
Sophia was pale in the face Does that make a difference?
The question caught Amelia by surprise.
“Change what?”
“Between you and Damien.
Amelia dropped her gaze.
“I dunno.
He didn’t tell me.
“He used me to get to my father.”
“He did?” Sophia was watching her closely.
“What did he do?
“You use?”
Amelia thought about it truthfully.
“He might have.” She stopped.
“But I don’t think he did.
Even she was surprised at herself for making the confession.
Sophia smiled a bit.
“Well then maybe that’s your answer.
“I need time.” Amelia said.
Take all the time you need.
Amelia gave her hand a squeeze.
“Thanks.” “What for?”
“Not to run away.
Sophia laughed.
I tried.
But they found me, anyway.
Amelia’s face dropped.
Sorry.
“Stop apologizing.
Sophia’s voice was steady again.
“We’re done with that.
“Okay.” Amelia nodded slowly.
Sophia sat back against the pillows.
Now, what’s the plan for today?
Amelia looked at the window.
Sunlight poured through the curtains.
Bright and clean and hopeful.
“You have to talk to Damien.” “About?” “Everything.” “You ready?
I don’t know.
She got up slowly.
But I can’t stay away from him forever.
Sophia smiled.
“He’s your husband now,”
The word hit Amelia harder than she’d expected.
The wife.
Husband for Sale.
husband of revenge.
But still… husband.
The title seemed strange and heavy and complicated all at once.
She went to the door.
I will be back soon.
I’ll be around.
Amelia stepped out into the hall, closed the door quietly, took a breath and walked toward the main living area.
Her bare feet were noiseless.
In the daylight the mansion was somehow different, lighter, less threatening, but the weight in her chest hadn’t gone anywhere.
At the top of the stairs she looked down and saw Damien standing near the fireplace in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his back to her.
His shoulders were tight, like he hadn’t slept either.
She came down slow, slow, deliberate.
Damien heard her, turned, and their eyes locked.
Neither of them said anything for a while, the silence stretching out, until Damien broke it.
“You slept.” “Some.
“Good.” He stepped closer.
“How’s Sophia?” “Awake. Tired. But okay.”
“Good.” Another pause settled between them.
Amelia crossed her arms.
“We need to talk.”
“I know,” he said, calm as ever.
“About everything.” “I know.” “About what happens next.” “I know.”
She took a breath.
“Then start talking.”
Damien studied her face carefully before speaking.
“Your father’s board meeting is tomorrow.”
Amelia blinked.
“What?”
“An emergency meeting. The shareholders are demanding answers.”
Her stomach tightened.
“Yes.” “And Victor?” “Victor will try to defend him.”
Her hands curled into fists.
“What about the evidence?”
Damien’s eyes hardened.
“It will be presented.” “Publicly?” “If necessary.”
She stared at him.
“You’re really going to destroy him.”
“He destroyed himself,” Damien said, his expression unreadable.
The words landed, true as anything she’d ever heard.
Her father had built his own prison, brick by brick, and now he had to live in it.
Damien stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“I need to ask you something.”
“What?”
His eyes held hers.
“When this is over when your father is exposed 11 what happens to us?”
The question hit her like a wave she hadn’t seen coming.
She had no answer ready.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, and it hurt to say it out loud.
Damien nodded slowly.
“Then take time. Figure it out.” He stepped back.
Something twisted in her chest.
“Damien”
He held up a hand.
“Not now.” His voice softened.
“Right now, focus on Sophia.
Focus on yourself.
Focus on surviving today.” “Tomorrow?” “Tomorrow we face the board.”
“And after that?”
He gave her a faint smile.
“The same thing we’ve been doing.”
“Which is?”
He stepped closer again, close enough that she could see the exhaustion carved into his eyes, close enough to feel the warmth coming off him, close enough that her heart picked up speed.
“Surviving.”
The word came out soft.
Intimate.
A little dangerous.
Amelia looked away first.
“I need to check on Sophia.” “Of course.”
She turned to go, then stopped without facing him.
“Damien.” “Yes?”
“Thank you.”
Silence, then his voice.
“For what?”
“For getting her back.”
Another pause.
“I told you I would.”
She finally turned around, and their eyes met.
“I know.” The words carried more weight than she meant them to, and Damien seemed to notice his expression shifted, just slightly, into something almost vulnerable, almost open.
Almost.
Then he nodded once.
“Go check on your friend.”
She walked away, heart pounding against her ribs.
Everything felt complicated, confusing, like standing at the edge of something enormous and unknown.
But underneath the fear, something else was stirring too — something warm, something that felt dangerously close to hope.
She reached Sophia’s door, paused, and glanced back.
Damien stood by the fireplace, watching her.
Always watching.
Always protecting.
Always there.
She stepped inside and closed the door softly.
Sophia looked up from the bed.
“You look different.”
“Different how?”
Sophia smiled, knowing.
“Like someone who just realized something important.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t,” Sophia said with a soft laugh.
Amelia sat on the edge of the bed.
Everything she’d known was gone.
Everything she’d believed had shattered.
But somehow, she was still standing.
Still breathing.
Still fighting.
And that had to count for something.
Sophia reached over and squeezed her hand.
“We’re going to be okay.”
Amelia looked at her best friend, and for the first time, she actually believed it.
Just a little.
But enough.
“Okay,” she said, and the word came out steady.
Strong.
Certain.
Sophia smiled.
“Good.”
Sunlight kept pouring through the curtains.
The rain had stopped.
The storm had passed.
But something else was only just beginning something that terrified her and excited her in equal measure, something that felt like the first page of an entirely new story.
Amelia squeezed Sophia’s hand back, and for the first time in years, she felt ready to fight.