Amelia stood up at once, her body moving before her mind had fully caught up. The decision has now propelled her forward with certainty.
She crossed the room, picked up the file, and began knocking on the door—firm, repeated knocks that echoed in the quiet space.
She knocked again, harder this time.
The lock turned. The door opened to reveal one of the maids, her face impassive.
"I want to meet the brothers," Amelia said steadily despite the trembling in her hands. "I’ve already made my decision. Take me to them now."
The maid studied her for a moment, her gaze flicking over Amelia’s face, her posture, the file still clutched in her hands. Then she stepped aside, gesturing with a slight tilt of her head.
"Follow me."
Amelia did. They walked the long corridors in silence, and she found herself grateful for the quiet—it gave her time to steel herself, to prepare for whatever came next.
I can do this. I have to do this. There’s no other choice.
A familiar figure appeared ahead, emerging from a side corridor with fluid grace. Rue. Her eyes narrowed the instant she saw Amelia, her lips pressing into a thin, disapproving line.
"What is the rat doing out here?"
The maid bowed quickly, her posture submissive. "We are going to meet the masters, Madame Rue."
Rue’s gaze dropped to the file still clutched in Amelia’s hands. Her eyes gleamed with something that looked almost like hunger. "Hand it over."
Amelia passed it without argument, her fingers reluctant to release the papers. Rue flipped it open, her eyes scanning the dense legal text with practiced efficiency. Her face twitched—just once—before she puts it back in.
"Let’s go."
She fell into step, the maid and amelia following her all the way to the office. Rue didn’t bother knocking. She pushed the door open and walked straight in.
Enzo was on a phone call. His frown appeared the moment he saw Rue—a small crease between his brows—but it shifted when his eyes landed on Amelia. He spoke into the phone once more, his tone clipped.
"We’ll talk later."
He ended the call and fixed Rue with a cool stare. "What was that behavior?"
Rue’s chin lifted, her posture defiant. "I’m upset at the decisions you’re making. I don’t agree with them, and I won’t pretend otherwise."
"Do you think I’m dull?" Enzo’s voice was calm, but there was an edge beneath it. "Do you think I make decisions without considering every possible outcome?"
"Never. I would never accuse you of being anything less than thorough." Rue stepped closer. "But there are much easier solutions rather than going through this unnecessary procedure of allowing a mistress to act like a wife. It’s risky. It’s complicated. And it’s entirely avoidable."
Enzo leaned back slightly, his fingers steepling on the desk. "And what do you think the better solution would be?"
Rue’s smile was sharp, almost predatory. "I am the perfect solution. I’ve been with the three of you for years. Everyone knows me. Everyone trusts me. No one will suspect a thing if I act as the wife. I know the customs, the traditions, the expectations. I can play the role seamlessly, without the risk of exposure."
Amelia understood exactly what was happening. Fear slid cold through her veins, icy and paralyzing.
She’s trying to take my place. If Enzo agrees, I’ll be useless. They’ll have no reason to keep me alive.
Her hands clenched at her sides.
I can’t let that happen. I didn’t survive the poison just to be discarded because someone else wanted my role.
"I refuse."
Silence dropped over the room. Rue turned her head slowly, her eyes deadly—cold and flat and utterly without mercy.
"What did you just say?"
Amelia forced a bold expression onto her face, her heart hammering against her ribs. She walked forward until she stood in front of Enzo’s desk.
"I’ve already agreed to the conditions you gave me. I came to get it signed." She held his gaze, refusing to look away. "I’ve made my decision, and I’m ready to commit to this role."
Enzo studied her. "Twenty-four hours haven’t passed yet. Are you sure? This isn’t a decision you can take back. Once you sign, you’re bound to the terms. There’s no exit clause."
"Yes." The word came out unwavering. "I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure of anything."
Rue’s voice cut in dismissively. "She knows nothing about the customs and traditions of our territory. She doesn’t know the history, the expectations. She is not fit to act as the wife. She’ll make a mistake. She’ll expose everything. And we’ll all pay the price."
"I will learn." Amelia turned to face her, her spine straight. "I’m not stupid. I can study, I can observe, I can adapt. Give me time, and I’ll know everything I need to know."
"She’s useless." Rue’s voice dripped with contempt. "She’s a liability. A burden. A mistake we should have corrected weeks ago."
Something inside Amelia snapped—a thread that had been stretched too thin for too long. She turned fully toward Rue, her eyes blazing.
"Since you’re the better option," she said coldly, "how come you haven’t found any invaluable information about the Underworld Territory in three years? If you’re so perfect, if you’re so capable, why are they still searching? Why haven’t you delivered what they need?"
Rue’s aura lashed out at once. It filled the room like a physical weight, pressing against Amelia’s skin, her lungs, her very bones. Amelia felt the crushing weight of it, but she held her ground.
It’s nothing compared to the aura of the brothers.
"How dare you speak to me like that?" Rue’s voice was low and dangerous, her eyes glittering with barely contained fury. "Do you have any idea who I am? What I’ve done for this family? You’re nothing. Less than nothing. You’re a temporary inconvenience that I will—"
"That’s enough."
Enzo’s single command cut through the tension. Rue’s aura vanished instantly, retreating back into her like a snake coiling into its hole.
He continued. "It wouldn’t make sense for you to become the wife, Rue. Everyone already knows you. Everyone knows the relationship is nothing more than business. They would smell the fraud from a mile away." His grey eyes shifted to Amelia. "Amelia, on the other hand, is new. Unknown. She has no history with this family, no ties that could be traced. She’s a blank slate, and that makes her valuable."
Amelia felt a flicker of something—relief, maybe, or vindication.
His gaze sharpened. "You will be compensated afterward. But you will not speak to Rue that way again. Just because you are going to be our fake wife does not mean you have any rights. You are a mistress. That is all you will ever be. Got it?"
The words landed heavily. Amelia swallowed, her throat tight.
A means to an end. Nothing more.
But she nodded and replied despite the ache in her chest. "Got it."
She turned slightly toward Rue, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. "I apologize. I was out of line. It won’t happen again."