LOGINThe Walker family banquet is exactly the kind of event I suddenly hate now.
Expensive, elegant and Fake. Crystal chandeliers glow warmly above the massive ballroom while wealthy guests dressed in designer clothes laugh and socialize like their lives are perfect. I stand beside Ethan near the entrance wearing a long black dress that suddenly feels too tight against my skin. His hand rests lightly against my lower back in a Possessive and perrformative way. Anyone looking at us would think we’re happily married and I hate it. “Smile,” Ethan mutters under his breath. I don’t even look at him. “If you touch me again one more time , I’ll break your hand.” His fingers flex slightly against my back before disappearing. Good. The marble floor beneath my heels becomes slippery as another couple brushes past me suddenly. My ankle twists, a gasp nearly escapes me as my body pitches forward…..But strong arms catch me before I hit the ground. Warm fingers clos firmly around my waist and everything stills when I look up and freeze. Holyyyyyy fuck. It’s Dante Wolfe. Ethan’s uncle. Technically not related by blood, but close enough for the family title to stick. Dante Wolfe was the kind of man people feared instinctively. Tall, devastatingly handsome, and always dressed in dark tailored suits that looked expensive enough to ruin lives, he carried himself with the cold confidence of someone who knew he was untouchabl. His sharp jawline, piercing dark eyes, and calm expression made him look more dangerous than approachable….like a man who could destroy you without even raising his voice. He rarely smiled, and when he did, it usually meant someone else was about to suffer. In the business world, Dante was ruthless. Men twice his age lowered their voices around him. Competitors avoided crossing him. Employees respected him with the kind of fear that bordered on worship. Rumors followed him everywhere; that he never forgave betrayal, that he ruined people quietly , that he always got what he wanted in the end. And somehow, that only made him more attractive, Untouchable and dangerously powerful. The man everyone whispers about when they think he can’t hear. His dark eyes meet mine calmly as he steadies me effortlessly. “You should be more careful, Mrs. Walker.” His voice is low. The kind of voice that commands rooms without trying……and it’s freaking hotttttt. Heat rushes embarrassingly through my body as I straighten quickly. “Thank you.” But Dnate doesn’t let go immediately. His gaze lingers on my face for one strange second too long, almost like he’s studying me. Then finally, he releases me slowly. Ethan steps beside me instantly, his expression hardening. “Uncle.” The tension between them is immediate and sharp enough to cut through the air. Dante’s eyes shift lazily toward Ethan. “Nephew.” Neither of them smile. Interesting. I’ve heard rumors about their rivalry for years, business disagreements, power struggles and coontrol issues. But standing between them now feels like standing between two storms. Dante ‘s gaze returns to me briefly before he says calmly, “Your wife almost fell.” “I had it handled.” A faint smirk touches Sebastian’s mouth. “No,” he says softly. “You didn’t.” Ethan’s jaw tightens immediately and suddenly I realize something terrifying. Dante Wolfe enjoys provoking him. The thought sends tension curling through my stomach. Before Ethan can respond, another guest approaches Dante quickly, pulling him into conversation. But just before he walks away completely….his eyes meet mine again. Cold and u unreadable, yet somehow intense enough to make my heartbeat stumble. What the hell was that? ——— Hours later, the banquet is in full swing. People gather around tables while servers move gracefully through the ballroom carrying champagne and expensive wine. I stand quietly near the corner, exhausted already, pretending all night is draining. Especially when my husband spent most of the evening ignoring me anyway. Honestly, thank God for that. I’m looking at my husband talk to some other person about business I suspect. When his mom and other relatives approach me…..I’m immediately wary, we aren’t that close, we don’t even like ourselves that much has been made clear. So why are they around me?. I know the reason soon enough when they start down talking me as usual. I’m reaching for a glass of champagne when I hear Dante’s voice across the room. Deep as fuck but also smooth, commanding immediate attention. “I think,” he says calmly, “that intelligence is severely undervalued in this family.” The room quiets slightly. Evenr Ethan looks over. Dante stands near the center of the ballroom with effortless authority, one hand tucked into his pocket. Dangerous man. The kind who doesn’t need to raise his voice to dominate a room. His gaze drifts slowly across the guests before landing directly on me and my breath catches. “Especially when it belongs to someone exceptional.” Confused murmurs spread quietly through the crowd. Ethan’s expression darkens instantly. Dante continues calmly, “Mrs. Walker abandoned one of the most promising scientific research careers I’ve ever heard of.” His eyes never leave mine. “A waste, if you ask me.” Shock ripples through me. How the fuck does he know that? I barely tell anyone about my research background anymore. The family certainly never cared enough to ask. Around us, whispers begin immediately. “Scientific research?” “I had no idea.” “She was a researcher?” Ethan’s face becomes dangerously unreadable. Because for the first time tonight…..Attention shifts away from him and nd onto me. And Ethan usually doesn’t like that, doesn’t want any one getting attention or anything but him. It’s always been about him him him nothing and no body else matters asides from him. Dante lifts his champagne glass slightly in my direction. “To brilliance,” he says softly. The words shouldn’t affect me but they do. Because after years of feeling invisible…..Someone finally sees me again.The morning light filters through the heavy curtains of my room at the research lodge, softer and later than I expected. I stir slowly under the thick duvet, the crisp Norwegian air seeping through a crack in the window making the room feel refreshingly cool against my skin. My body is heavy with jet lag, muscles still remembering the long flight and the charged tension of leaning into Dante’s side. I reach for my phone on the nightstand, the screen glowing brightly in the dim room, and my heart drops. It’s almost eleven in the morning. The meeting—the important stakeholder session Dante mentioned last night—was shifted to noon. There’s barely an hour left. “Shit,” I mutter, throwing the covers back. The wooden floor is cold under my bare feet as I scramble out of bed, heart racing. No time for the leisurely morning I had vaguely planned. I need to hurry. I rush through my routine in a blur. The bathroom fills with steam as I shower quickly, hot water cascading over my skin, washing
The plane touches down with a gentle jolt on the runway in Bergen, Norway, and the world outside the window shifts from endless clouds to something breathtakingly real. Crisp, cold air presses against the glass as we taxi, carrying the faint promise of salt from the nearby fjords even through the sealed cabin. I unbuckle my seatbelt, my fingers lingering on the cool metal clasp a second longer than necessary, the hum of the engines winding down around me like a sigh of relief. The long flight is over, but the charged memory of leaning into Dante’s side lingers on my skin like a brand….his firm warmth, that intoxicating scent that wrapped around every buried desire I’ve tried to ignore since Ethan’s betrayals began. Passengers stir, gathering coats and bags with the rustle of jackets and the click of overhead bins. I stand, smoothing my sweater, the fabric soft but insufficient against the chill already seeping through the jet bridge. Dante rises across the aisle, his movement
The boarding gate buzzes with chaos as passengers wheeling carry-ons, the overhead announcements crackling with flight updates, the faint scent of airport coffee and cleaning solution hanging in the air. I stand near the boarding line, passport and boarding pass in hand, my compact suitcase already checked. The excitement for Norway still hums under my skin, tempered now by the long journey ahead. I scan the crowd absentmindedly when my gaze lands on a familiar tall figure near the priority lane. Dante. Ethan’s uncle stands out effortlessly in a tailored dark coat over a crisp shirt, his presence commanding the space around him without effort. Our eyes meet across the gate area. What the fuck!!!?My stomach tightens as he approaches with measured steps, rolling a sleek black carry-on beside him. “Why didn’t anyone tell me I had a partner on this trip?” I ask as soon as he’s close enough, voice low but sharp with surprise. The line shuffles forward slowly, the gate agent scannin
Days later.*****The morning light slips through the curtains of my separate bedroom, pale and crisp, carrying the quiet promise of a new day. I wake slowly, heart already beating a little faster as I register the date on my phone: the day I leave for Norway. The one-week research trip. My suitcase stands packed and ready by the door….a compact roller case filled with practical layers, notebooks, my laptop, research notes printed and organized, toiletries in regulation bags. The separate room feels more like a sanctuary this morning, the bed neatly made, my clothes from yesterday folded on the chair. No trace of Ethan’s cologne or the heavy silence of shared spaces. Just mine.I shower quickly, the hot water steaming up the mirror as I wash away the last remnants of sleep and lingering nerves. My reflection shows tired eyes but a determined set to my jaw. I dress for travel: comfortable jeans, a soft sweater layered under a waterproof jacket, sturdy boots for field work, hair pulled
The restaurant buzzes with warm evening energy, soft golden lighting spilling from pendant lamps over dark wood tables and leather booths. The scent of garlic, seared steak, and fresh herbs fills the air, mingling with the low hum of conversations and the occasional clink of wine glasses. Claire and I sit tucked in a corner booth, plates of pasta and shared appetizers spread between us. My hair is down, loose waves brushing my shoulders. For the first time in weeks, I’m laughing genuinely, the sound mixing with Claire’s as she gestures animatedly with her fork. Norway still feels surreal, a bright spot I keep returning to in my mind. The one-week research trip, the chance to present, the distance from everything crumbling at home. Claire raises her glass of red wine, her curly hair framing her excited face. “To you kicking ass in Norway and finally putting yourself first. I’m so proud of you, Amelia. Seriously.” I clink my glass against hers, the wine rich and warming on my
The office begins to empty around me long before I notice. One by one, conversations fade, chairs scrape softly against the polished floor as people pack their laptops into leather satchels and sling coats over their arms. Someone wishes the department a good evening, another reminds everyone about Monday's presentation. The familiar hum of company slowly quiets into something gentler. I don't look up. I'm halfway through cross-checking a series of environmental projections when another inconsistency catches my eye. I sigh. "...Seriously?" I rub the bridge of my nose before typing another note into the report. One correction becomes three, three become seven, then another spreadsheet opens. By the time I finally lean back in my chair, stretching the stiffness from my shoulders, the office around me is almost deserted. The overhead lights have dimmed automatically into their evening setting, casting everything in a softer glow. Only a handful of desks remain occ
The champagne in my glass went flat nearly twenty minutes ago.I still hold it anyway.My fingers tighten around the stem as I stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows of the rooftop restaurant, watching rain slide down the glass in crooked lines. The city glows beneath me….gold lights, speeding cars
I scrub my skin until it burns. Still, I can’t get rid of the feeling of Ethan’s betrayal crawling all over me. The bathroom is silent except for the sound of running water and my uneven breathing. Steam fogs the mirrors while my hands shake violently beneath the stream. I squeeze my eyes shut ha
“I’m not coming back.” “Yes, you are.” The certainty in his tone chills me, like he genuinely believes I belong to him no matter what he does. “I’m filing for divorce.” His breathing changes slightly. Then colder this time, “Don’t do something stupid because you’re emotional Amelia. I close m
Pain flashes across his face for the first time tonight. Good. I toss it onto the bed beside the other woman. “Happy anniversary.” Then I turn toward the door. “Amelia, wait.” He catches my wrist in the hallway. The second he touches me, disgust crawls violently across my skin and I yank fre







