Chapter 18 : ALLEN

Rayna's POV

The morning after the gala, I woke up with my heart racing and my lips still tingling from the memory of that kiss.

The real kiss. The one that hadn't been for cameras or show. The one that had felt like falling and flying at the same time.

I touched my fingers to my mouth, remembering the way Denzel had kissed me on that balcony. The desperation. The tenderness. The way the rest of the world had disappeared.

This is dangerous.

I know.

We should stop before someone gets hurt.

I know.

But we hadn't stopped. And now I don't know what happened next.

I checked my phone. It was barely 7 AM, but I already had messages waiting.

One from Serena: Girl! Those gala photos! You two looked SO in love! Call me!

One from my mother: Much better. Keep it up. Your father is pleased.

And one from a number I didn't recognize: Amelia, I saw the news. Are you okay? We need to talk. -Allen

My heart stopped.

Allen. Allen James Michael. My childhood best friend who'd moved to Boston for work three years ago. We'd kept in touch sporadically, birthday texts, occasional calls but we hadn't actually seen each other in over a year.

I stared at the message. He was the only person besides Denzel who called me Amelia. Everyone else used Rayna or Ray. But Allen had always insisted Amelia was prettier, more sophisticated.

It annoyed me as a kid. Now it just felt... complicated.

Before I could respond, another text came through: I'm in town for work. Can we meet for coffee? I'm worried about you.

I bit my lip. There was nothing wrong with meeting an old friend. But something told me Denzel wouldn't see it that way.

Especially not after last night.

I came downstairs to find the house surprisingly quiet. No Connor running around. No Susana making snide comments. Even Bee was nowhere to be seen.

But Denzel was there. In the kitchen, making coffee, still in pajama pants and a t-shirt. I'd never seen him so casual, so... domestic.

He looked up when I entered, and the air immediately charged with tension.

"Morning," he said.

"Morning."

Awkward silence. Neither of us knowing what to say. How to address the elephant in the room.

"About last night…." we both said at the same time.

A ghost of a smile. "You first," he said.

"I was just going to say that we should probably talk about what happened. On the balcony."

"We should." He poured two cups of coffee, handed me one. "But I don't know where to start."

"Was it real?" I asked quietly. "Or were we just caught up in the moment? The stress, the scandal, playing pretend all night..."

"Is that what you think it was?"

"I don't know what to think anymore."

He set down his coffee and moved closer. Close enough that I could smell his cologne, see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes.

"It was real, Amelia. That kiss... everything I said... it was real."

My heart hammered. "Denzel….."

His phone rang, shattering the moment. He cursed under his breath and checked the screen. "It's my office. I have to take this."

"Of course."

He disappeared into his study, leaving me standing there with my heart in my throat and a thousand questions.

Before I could process anything, my own phone buzzed. Allen again.

Please, Amelia. I'm at the Starbucks on Fifth Street. Just 20 minutes. I need to see that you're okay.

I stared at the message. I should say no. Should tell him I was fine and we could catch up another time.

But something in me needed space. Distance from Denzel and these confusing feelings. And Allen was safe. Familiar. Uncomplicated.

Okay. I'll be there in 15 minutes.

The Starbucks was crowded with the morning rush, but I spotted Allen immediately. He stood when he saw me, his familiar smile both comforting and strange after so long.

"Amelia." He pulled me into a hug. "God, it's good to see you."

"You too. It's been too long."

We settled into a corner table with our coffees. Allen looked good same kind eyes, same easy smile. But there was something different about him. More mature. More serious.

"So," he said. "Married to Denzel Adams. That's... not what I expected when I heard you were getting married."

I forced a laugh. "It wasn't what I expected either."

"The news has been crazy. That video of him punching that investor... Amelia, are you okay? Did that man really…."

"I'm fine. Denzel got there in time."

"But the scandal, the speculation... this can't be easy for you."

"It's not. But I'm handling it."

He studied my face. "Are you happy? Really happy?"

The question caught me off guard. "I... it's complicated."

"That's not an answer."

"Allen…."

"I know it's not my place. I know we haven't talked much lately. But Amelia, I care about you. I always have. And seeing you on the news, in the middle of all this chaos..." He reached across the table and took my hand. "I just want to make sure you're okay. That he's treating you right."

"He is. Denzel is... he's complicated. But he's good to me."

"Is he? Because from what I'm seeing, you're caught in scandal after scandal. His ex-lover is living in your house. Business deals falling apart. And now this thing with Whitmore..." He squeezed my hand. "You deserve better than being collateral damage in someone else's war."

"It's not like that…."

"Isn't it?" His thumb traced circles on my hand, a gesture that had been innocent when we were kids but now felt too intimate. "Amelia, I've known you since we were eight years old. I know when you're putting on a brave face. And I know when you're in over your head."

"I can take care of myself."

"I know you can. But you shouldn't have to do it alone." He paused. "If you ever need anything and I mean anything, I'm here. Always."

Something about the intensity in his eyes made me uncomfortable. I gently pulled my hand back.

"Thank you. That means a lot. But I'm okay. Really."

"Are you in love with him?"

The question hit me like a punch. "What?"

"Denzel Adams. Are you in love with him? Because the way you two looked at that gala... it seemed real. But I need to know if you're happy or if you're just playing a part."

"Allen…."

"Because if you're not happy, if this marriage isn't what you want..." He leaned forward. "You don't have to stay. You could leave. Start over. I'd help you."

"Leave?" I stared at him. "Allen, what are you…"

"I'm saying that you have options. You're not trapped. Whatever hold he has on you, whatever deal your family made, it doesn't have to be permanent."

"How do you know about the deal?"

He hesitated. "I... I've heard things. Through mutual friends. About your family's debt. About the timing of the marriage. Amelia, if he forced you into this…"

"He didn't force me. I chose this."

"Did you? Or did you just run out of choices?"

I stood up, suddenly needing distance. "I should go."

"Amelia, wait…."

"Thank you for your concern, Allen. Really. But I'm fine. My marriage is fine. Everything is fine."

"You're lying." He stood too. "You always touch your bottom lip when you lie. You've done it since we were kids."

Damn it. He was right.

"I'm not lying," I insisted, even as my treacherous hand moved toward my mouth before I caught myself.

"See? Right there." His expression softened. "Amelia, please. Just promise me you'll be careful. That you'll call me if you need anything. Can you do that?"

I nodded, grabbing my purse. "I have to go."

"It was good seeing you."

"You too."

I practically ran out of the coffee shop, my heart pounding. That conversation had been... intense. Confusing. Allen had always been protective, but this felt like something more.

And the way he'd held my hand. The way he'd said my name.

No. I was imagining things. Allen was my friend. That's all he'd ever been.

I was so distracted that I didn't notice the car parked across the street. Didn't see the flash of a camera capturing me leaving the coffee shop.

Didn't realize I'd just made everything so much worse.

When I got home, the house was no longer quiet.

I could hear voices from the sitting room, Naomi's laugh, a child's giggle, and another woman's voice I didn't recognize.

I walked in to find Naomi playing with Connor on the floor while Serena sat on the couch, watching with an odd expression on her face.

"Ray!" Serena jumped up and pulled me into a hug. "Finally! I've been dying to talk to you about that gala!"

"How did you even get in here?"

"Bee let me in. And then I met Baby here!" She gestured to Naomi. "and this adorable little guy." She nodded toward Connor. "Denzel's son, right?"

"Yeah. Connor."

Serena's expression was strange. Thoughtful. "He's cute."

"He is."

"Doesn't really look like Denzel though, does he?"

The observation caught me off guard. "I... I guess I never really thought about it."

"Really? Because I've been sitting here for twenty minutes and I can't see the resemblance at all." Serena tilted her head, studying Connor as he played with building blocks. "Different bone structure. Different features. Even his coloring is off."

"Kids don't always look like their parents," Naomi said, but her voice was uncertain.

"True," Serena agreed. "But usually there's something. An expression. The way they smile. Something." She looked at me. "Has Denzel ever done a paternity test?"

"Why would he?" I asked, even as unease prickled at the back of my neck. "Susana says he's his son."

"And you believe her?"

"I... why wouldn't I?"

"Because that woman is shadier than a palm tree," Serena said bluntly. "The way she acts. The way she tries to manipulate everyone. Something's off about her, Ray. I can feel it."

"You've met her once."

"Once was enough." Serena turned back to Connor. "When was he born? What's his birthday?"

"Um... I think October? Three years ago?"

"And when did Denzel and Susana break up?"

"I don't know. Before I met him."

"You should find out." Serena's journalist instincts were clearly kicking in. "Because if the timeline doesn't add up..."

"Serena, you're being paranoid."

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm the only one asking the right questions." She looked at me seriously. "Ray, you live in this house. Your husband is financially supporting this child. Don't you think you should know for sure if he's actually Denzel's son?"

Before I could respond, Denzel's voice came from the doorway.