Chapter 19: Jealously and Confusion

He's my son."

We all turned. Denzel stood there, his expression dark, his eyes colder than I'd ever seen them.

"The DNA test was done when he was born. Connor is mine."

"I didn't mean to imply…." Serena started.

"Yes, you did." He moved into the room, his presence dominating the space. "And while I appreciate your concern for my wife, my family matters are not your business."

The temperature in the room dropped about twenty degrees.

"Denzel," I said quietly. "Serena was just…"

"Where were you this morning?" he asked, cutting me off. His eyes locked on mine. "You left early."

"I went to get coffee."

"With?"

My stomach dropped. "How did you.mm"

"With who, Amelia?"

The use of my full name, in that tone, in front of everyone, made me defensive. "Allen. An old friend who's in town. He saw the news and wanted to make sure I was okay."

"Allen." He said the name like it tasted bitter. "And you didn't think to mention you were meeting another man for coffee?"

"It wasn't like that. He's just a friend."

"A friend who holds your hand across the table?"

My blood ran cold. "You had someone following me?"

"I have security. For your protection. And imagine my surprise when they report that my wife is having an intimate coffee date with another man less than twelve hours after kissing me on a balcony."

"It wasn't intimate! And you have no right to…"

"No right?" His voice rose. "You're my wife!"

"Contract wife!" I shot back. "Or have you forgotten?"

The words hung in the air like a slap. Denzel's expression shuttered completely, and I immediately regretted them.

"You're right," he said coldly. "Contract wife. I apologize for overstepping."

He turned and walked out, his footsteps echoing through the silent house.

Serena whistled low. "Well. That was intense."

I sank onto the couch, my hands shaking. What had just happened? One moment we were almost admitting real feelings, and the next we were throwing the contract in each other's faces.

"For what it's worth," Naomi said quietly, "I've never seen my brother that jealous. Ever. Which means whatever's happening between you two? It's real."

"It's complicated," I whispered.

"Love usually is," Serena said, squeezing my hand.

But was it love? Or was it just possession? Jealousy? Control?

And why did Allen calling me "Amelia" seem to bother Denzel so much?

Because that's his name for you, a voice in my head whispered. It's intimate. Personal. And another man using it felt like a violation.

I buried my face in my hands.

This was getting more complicated by the second. And I had no idea how to fix it.

The cold war began immediately.

For the next three days, Denzel and I existed in the same house like strangers. We didn't speak unless absolutely necessary. We didn't look at each other. We moved through the mansion like ghosts, carefully avoiding any space the other occupied.

It was worse than the early days of our marriage. Because now I knew what his kiss felt like. What it felt like to have him look at me with something other than cold indifference.

And I'd thrown it all away with two words: Contract wife.

I replayed that moment over and over. The way his expression had shuttered. The way the warmth in his eyes had died instantly. The way he'd walked away without another word.

I wanted to apologize.

Wanted to explain that I'd only said it because I was defensive, scared, confused. But every time I tried to approach him, the words died in my throat.

And he made no effort to bridge the gap either.

Meanwhile, Allen wouldn't stop texting.

Are you okay? You seemed upset when you left.

Amelia, please talk to me. I'm worried.

I'm staying in town for a few more days. Can we meet again?

Did something happen? Did HE do something?

I ignored most of them, but Allen was persistent. And part of me, the part that was hurt and confused and angry at Denzel, wanted to respond.

Wanted to talk to someone who didn't make me feel like I was constantly walking on eggshells.

But I knew that would only make things worse.

Susana, of course, noticed the tension immediately.

She'd been away for a few days, something about a spa retreat with friends but the moment she returned, her sharp eyes catalogued every detail. The way Denzel and I no longer ate meals together. The way we barely spoke. The way the air felt arctic whenever we were in the same room.

Denzel's POV

I was losing my mind.

Three days. Three days since Amelia had thrown "contract wife" in my face. Three days of seeing her around the house and not being able to touch her. Talk to her. Explain that the kiss on that balcony had been the most real thing I'd felt in years.

But I was too proud. Too stubborn. Too fucking scared to admit that somewhere along the way, this arrangement had stopped being business and started being everything.

So I buried myself in work. Took calls at all hours. Avoided coming home until I knew she'd be asleep.

And tried to ignore the ache in my chest every time I passed her in the hallway and she wouldn't meet my eyes.

My security had reported that Allen was still in town. Still texting her. Still trying to meet up with her. Every notification made me want to put my fist through a wall.

But what right did I have to be jealous? She'd made it clear what we were. Contract spouses. Nothing more.

Even if that kiss had felt like everything.

When Susana returned from her trip, I knew immediately she was going to be a problem. The way she watched Amelia and me, cataloguing our distance, calculating how to use it to her advantage.

I should have kicked her out weeks ago. Should have told her to find her own place and I'd arrange proper visitation with Connor.

But I'd been too focused on Amelia to deal with Susana's games.

That was about to change.

Rayna's POV

It was Wednesday evening when everything came to a head.

I'd been working late at the foundation, deliberately staying away from the mansion as long as possible. When I finally came home around 8 PM, the house was quiet. Connor was already in bed. Bee had left dinner warming in the oven.

I grabbed a plate and was heading to my wing when I heard voices from Denzel's study.

Susana's voice. Low and sultry.

"You've been so tense lately, Denzel. Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine." His voice was clipped. Cold.

"You don't seem fine. You seem... distracted. Unhappy."

I should have kept walking. Should have gone to my room and minded my own business.

But something made me stop. Made me move closer to the partially open door.

"My mood is not your concern, Susana," Denzel said.

"Of course it is. You're Connor's father. His happiness depends on yours." A pause. "And I care about you. I always have."

"Susana…."

"I know things are difficult with Rayna right now. I've seen the way you two avoid each other. The way she's always running off to meet with other men…"

"That's enough."

"Is it? Because from where I'm standing, she doesn't appreciate what she has. She doesn't appreciate you." Her voice dropped lower. "I would never treat you that way, Denzel. I never did."

"We're not having this conversation."

"Why not? Because you're married? Please. Everyone knows that marriage is a sham. A business arrangement. There's no love there. No real connection."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I? I know you, Denzel. Better than she ever will. I know what you need. What you want. And I can give it to you."

The sound of movement. Footsteps.

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst from my chest. I should leave. I should walk away right now.

But I couldn't move.

"Susana, you need to leave my study. Now."

"Just give me a chance. Let me show you what you're missing. What you could have if you weren't tied to a woman who doesn't even want you ...."

"I said no."

"Denzel, please…"

And then I heard it. A soft sound. Like fabric rustling. Like..

I pushed the door open.

The scene before me was like a photograph burned into my brain.

Susana had her hands on Denzel's chest. She was standing on her toes, her face tilted up toward his. Her lips were inches from his.

And Denzel's hands were on her shoulders, clearly about to push her away.

But from where I stood, it looked like they were about to kiss.

Or had just kissed.

The world tilted.