The heavy downpour drenches Amber completely. She recalls the time she first saw him, he was scary but attractive, and now, she’s back to the point. The point where it all started. “My mother always told me that I’d melt the coldest hearts with my fire, but I guess she was wrong,” Amber mumbles as tears drop into the puddle formed next to her leg. Her tears drop like shards of crystals. Her vision was cloudy and everything was spinning. The Next Day Amber’s pov: Everything feels surreal. My eyes open. He’s gone. I’m accustomed to seeing him playing with my hair, or fixing his gaze on me to memorize every little detail of my face. But, right now, all I see is my mother’s face and a soft mattress under me. My clothes are dry and so is my hair. I touch them to make sure that it’s real. I’m at my art gallery? I open my eyes wide and look around. There’s no one in the art gallery; just me. I get up on my feet and walk close to my mother’s portrait which I had modified into the wallpa
Two Years Later “Madame, we’re up next,” a man in his thirties tells a drop-dead gorgeous woman. “How much time do we have on stage?” She questions, her voice demanding. “About ten minutes,” the man says checking his wristwatch. “Mhm,” she licks her lips to wet them as she puts on a beautiful pendant. She looks at herself in the mirror, her fingers tenderly tracing the pendant. “Why do you always have that on, madame?” The man asks out of curiosity. “Someone gave it to me…A long time ago. It is a promise that I hope he lives up to every single day,” she smiles. “And I believe that he does. He can love no other the way he loved me,” the air of confidence around her intimidated the man. The announcer speaks, “Here comes the gorgeous, talented and witty, Amber Bianchi.” Amber sways her hips from side to side, her long black hair which is now straight moves with her hips, and as she reaches the center of the stage, she thanks the announcer and curls her fingers around the microphone.
Alessandro’s pov: I’m well aware of what I’m doing. I am conscious, but she intoxicates me in every possible way. Her bright brown eyes, still have a fire in them, her hair is now long and straight and her neck is still decked with the jewel that I gifted her as a promise. I have lived up to it. I’ve been hers and only hers. I cannot love another the way I’ve loved her. She stomps away, but I grab her arm to face me. The cameras are flashing. No one knows about what has been going on with us. We’ve never come face to face in the past two years, not privately, not publicly. Everyone still believes that we’re a power couple. That we’ve had no downs in our relationship. Everything is like a fairytale, but they don’t know anything. “I need a minute,” she whispers freeing herself from my grip. A minute, an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year, everything has passed by, and I’ve realized how wrong I was five months ago. Five Months Ago: “Alessandro, you’re still painting?!” Harlow scr
Amber never comes back to Alessandro. Instead, Liam comes forward. “Mr. Bianchi?” He asks. Alessandro nods. “Your wife wants the painting,” he demands. “Ask her to come and get it,” Alessandro hands over his business card. Liam walks back in vain and reports to Amber. She rolls her eyes and trashes the card. “Madam…Amber, we need the painting,” Liam adjusts his clothes as he speaks. “I know, and I will get it,” her eyes glow. “I’ve never asked, but what’s the relationship status between you and your husband?” He questions. This was something that Amber wanted to keep secret, so she says, “Your question answers your question.” Then, they go on about the schedule, days and nights come and go, and finally, Thursday arrives. “Amber, let’s leave,” Liam says, decked up in a suit. “Sure,” she says as she steps out of her stylist’s room. She puts on the necklace before setting foot out of her flat. “How’s my new flat?” Amber questions as they step into the elevator. “Artistic,” Liam say
Alessandro’s pov: “We’re at the brand launch event of Amber Bianchi, a well-established businesswoman, three-time Best Artist Award winner, successful art gallery owner with ten branches across the globe, and the wife of Alessandro Bianchi. The name, one that everyone has anticipated eagerly…It is Guns and Brushes.” I smile to myself as I turn off the TV. Not only because of how proud I am to be called her husband but also because of the brand name. Damn, this woman can stay far away from me and still make my heart flutter like never before. My phone rings. “Alessandro…My birthday is in two days, how’s the party organization coming along?” Bianca asks. “Hello to you too, my sister. And about that, everything is going very well,” I tell her. “How’s Amber?” I question. “She’s a little lonely, but she’s a strong woman, so she can live without you,” Bianca chuckles. “I know, I know,” I sigh. Bianca has been updating me about Amber, so I never slack on any detail, for the past four mon
TW: Mature Content (If you feel uncomfortable reading it, I've put the synopsis in the note section, so skip the reading and go straight to the notes) “I will beat you…” Amber whispers leaning close to Alessandro after they begin, “So, back out if you’re afraid.” Alessandro chuckles saying, “You’re a lightweight, I’m aware of that.” She rolls her eyes at him as she downs shot after shot continuously. Ken and Emma were engrossed in a conversation at the other end of the hall. Alessandro gives her tough competition. After five rounds, Amber stops, saying, “I’m done, you win.” Alessandro smirks at her as he downs his last shot. “Checkmate,” he chuckles as he drops the glass on the counter. Both of them felt drowsy. Bianca whispered to Amber, “You should head back to the flat…It’s pretty late, thanks for coming.” She leads her out to her driver. “Happy birthday, Bee,” Amber shoots two thumbs up to her. As Amber gets in the car, Bianca gestures to the driver to wait. Bianca runs b
Amber’s pov: My head hurts. I am unable to open my eyes. I trace my lips…Dried saliva and swollen. My eyes open. I see Alessandro next to me; naked. No. No. I recall a few moments from last night. No. I told him that I…I love him. I plant my palm on my face. Sheesh. My legs and my whole lower body feel sore. Ugh, I better take a shower…I’ll deal with him later. As the water flows against my body, I think about last night and a wave of satisfaction washes over me. It felt good. So good. I missed him so much. I wrap myself in a towel and walk out. I look at myself in the mirror. There are hickeys near my belly button. I quickly cover them up with foundation. After dressing up, I turn to look at him. He looks like he’s at peace. He’s sleeping like an angel. But I need to wake him up, he needs to leave. Last night was a mistake. A good mistake, but it can’t happen again. Not until he apologizes to me and changes my stubborn mind. Two years is a long time, it’s the least that I de
Saturday The day was sunny and cloudy. The waves were calm. Amber and Alessandro were engrossed in their canvas in their respective places. She painted half of an icy heart, and he painted half of one which was fiery. Their eyelids were heavy, but they didn’t care, they needed to finish what they had started. At Alessandro’s Place “Ken,” Alessandro’s sleeplessness audible from his voice, “I need you to help me with a few arrangements.” Ken listens carefully as Alessandro lists out everything in detail. “I’ll let you know when it’s done,” Ken ends the call with that. Alessandro continues with his piece of art. At Amber’s Place “Amber,” Liam says from the other end of the line, “I’ve heard that Mr. Bianchi has not only set up a new branch of his office here but rather he has also halted here in a beach house.” Amber moves the brush away from the canvas. “Good for him, business expansion I guess,” she mutters. She knew that he had come here for her. “I’m sure that’s the only reas