Masuk(Rayner)I sit in my office, drumming my pen against the desk.Once.Twice.Again.She’s not here yet.My gaze flicks to the clock.Why is she late?A thought crosses my mind.What if she’s already here… and just hasn’t come in yet?I push up from my chair immediately and step out.Her desk comes into view.Empty.There’s no one there.I stop.So she hasn’t arrived.I exhale and turn back into my office, shutting the door behind me.Then I start pacing.A slow smile spreads across my face.I can’t wait.I want to see her reaction.The moment she sees it.The painting.I picture her face already. The way her eyes would light up, the way that quiet smile would form. The same one from last night.A strange thrill runs through me.I move toward the door again.Then stop.Turn back.Then go again.Restless.And just as I’m about to step out once more—The outer door opens.I freeze.Quickly, I step back inside, closing my office door and moving to my seat. My expression settles into someth
(Rayner)I’m seated in my living room, a glass of bourbon in hand as my mind drifts back to them.Amara.Felix.The way Felix’s hand stayed on her waist.The way they both stared at each other after he mentioned them enjoying the night together.My breath hardens.What would have been going through their minds then?The ways they would… enjoy the night.My jaw tightens.They must have both been imagining it in that moment.Seeing the way they looked at each other.The way he smiled at her.I could almost feel the thoughts passing between them.I lift my glass to drink again—But I can’t.My breath comes out hot against the rim.My mind shifts again.Back to earlier.When I went to pick her up.How beautiful she looked stepping out of the building.The way her lashes fluttered as I got closer.The way her lips—I cut the thought off, letting the glass drop hard against the table as I lean forward, my fingers clamp together tightly.“Get a grip, Rayner,” I mutter under my breath.She’s
(Amara)“Thank you for bringing me home.” My voice comes out softer than I intend as Rayner turns off the engine in front of my house.He nods once.Quiet. Controlled.I reach for my seatbelt and unbuckle it.“Do you…” he starts.I pause and look at him, brows drawing together. “Do I what?”He hesitates.Then shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”I study him for a second longer, sensing there’s more, but I don’t push.Instead, I turn and step out of the car.The night air hits my skin, cool and grounding.I take a few steps toward the house when I hear his door open behind me.“Amara.”I stop.Turn.He’s already walking toward me.“Is there something you want to say?” I ask, watching him closely.“Yes.”My brows lift slightly.Then he exhales. “No. I mean… no.”Now I frown. “Is there a problem?”“The frame.”My expression shifts. “What about the frame?”“I thought you might—”“I would prefer if we don’t talk about that anymore.”My tone is calm, but firm.I don’t want to go back there.Don
(Amara)My eyes dart to them—and I still.“Ray… Rayner?”His name slips from my lips before I can stop it.He stands right there, watching. Brows drawn, confusion and something sharper flickering in his eyes.Michael’s grip loosens slowly from my hand as they walk closer, closing the space between us.“What’s going on here?” Rayner asks.His gaze moves between us, searching.I say nothing.My fingers tremble slightly at my side, and panic creeps up my spine.What do I say?How do I even begin to explain this?He saw us. He saw the tension. There’s no simple excuse out of this.My thoughts spiral fast, crashing into each other.Is he going to find out?Is this it?That I’m Amara Roosevelt.No.I swallow hard.I can’t let that happen.To him, I’m married. If he gets to learn about the truth… that I’m a Roosevelt, then what would he think of me? Of my family?My chest tightens.My breathing stutters.My eyes flicker around the space, catching the subtle glances of people watching. Curiou
(Rayner)A scoff slips out of me as her words keep replaying in my mind. She doesn’t know anything, yet she’s already coming for me. Hesitating? Seriously?“What makes you think you’d do any better, huh?” I ask, folding my arms.No answer.I huff out a quiet laugh. “See? You can’t even defend yourself.”I shake my head slightly. “I know exactly what I’m doing. It’s just—”My gaze shifts to her——and the rest of my words fall away.She isn’t even listening.Her eyes are fixed ahead, distant… like she’s somewhere else entirely.I follow her line of sight.The final piece.My focus moves between her and the canvas, slower now. Studying. Noticing.Back to her.Then the painting again.The way she’s looking at it… it’s not casual.Not just admiration.It’s deeper than that.Like she feels it.My eyes settle on the painting again. I take it in properly this time—the quiet strength in it, the calm beneath the chaos.Yeah.B.B outdid himself with this one.A faint smile touches my lips. I gl
(Amara)My heart is racing, fingers curled tightly around my purse as my eyes lock with his face.This place.The same hall my grandfather brought me to five years ago. And somehow it’s the same staff who had attended to us then.There’s no way he would recognize me… right?But—“Oh!”His voice cuts through everything, sharp and certain.Recognition flashes across his face.My stomach drops.I begin to fidget, heat crawling up my neck as sweat gathers at my nape. If he says anything—if he calls my name—then everything unravels.My identity.The truth.That I’m Amara Roosevelt.He opens his mouth to speak again—“Rayner Sinclair.”The interruption is smooth. Controlled.I inhale sharply, relief rushing through me as the staff immediately nods and steps away.Only then do I lean into my chair, my body trembling slightly from the tension that almost exposed me.And then I hear it.Rayner’s voice.“Michael.. Michael Roosevelt. So good to see you.”My head snaps up.For a moment, the world







