MasukThe peace they found the night before—quiet, warm, full of feelings, they finally stopped running from—didn’t survive the morning.Amelia woke up alone. The spot beside her was cold, but there was a fresh cup of her favorite tea waiting on the table. Lucas was gone, but the small gesture made her chest ache.She slipped on her silk robe and walked to the kitchen.Lucas was already there—but he wasn’t cooking or pretending to be calm. He stood by the wide window with his phone pressed to his ear, shoulders tight.“I don’t care what the stock did, Robert,” he snapped. “Control the narrative. Control. It.”He dropped the phone on the counter so hard it echoed. Lucas barely ever lost his temper. This—this was different.“What happened?” she asked, her hand going instinctively to her stomach.Lucas turned toward her. His face was cold, hard… the same look he had the day she first walked into his office. Only this time, the anger wasn’t for her.He didn’t say a word. He just pointed at the
The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the penthouse. Amelia sat at the kitchen island, her fingers wrapped around a warm mug of tea. The events of the previous night replayed in her mind—the vulnerability in Lucas’s eyes, the gentle touch of his hand on her back as he walked her to her room, the unspoken words that lingered between them.She glanced down at her growing belly, a subtle reminder of the life they had created together. The baby was a bond that tied them, yet the emotional distance between them remained vast.Lucas entered the kitchen, his presence commanding as always. He poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, his gaze meeting hers.“Morning,” he said, his voice low.“Morning,” Amelia replied, her tone cautious.They stood in silence, the tension palpable.“I have a meeting downtown,” Lucas said, breaking the silence. “I’ll be back late.”Amelia nodded, her heart sinking. The walls between them were rebuilding,
The Walls Begin to Crack The moment Amelia dropped the truth like a grenade, Lucas did what he did best—hide. He didn’t run. He didn’t yell. He didn’t even flinch. He simply walked past her like she hadn’t just flipped both their worlds upside down with three words: “I’m pregnant, Lucas.” She stood there long after he disappeared into his study, the positive test still clutched in her shaking hand, her chest heavy with a mixture of dread and disbelief. He didn’t demand a DNA test. He didn’t accuse her of tricking him. He didn’t do anything. And that, somehow, was worse. ⸻ Amelia barely slept that night. Her thoughts spun into chaos. Every time she closed her eyes, she pictured the way he looked—calm, unreadable, untouchable. How could he be so cold? How could she have been so stupid? ⸻ Across the penthouse, Lucas stood in front of his liquor cabinet with a glass of whiskey he hadn’t touched. The amber liquid caught the moonlight like liquid fire, but he
The Night We Should’ve Never HadThe storm came without warning.One minute the sky over Manhattan was calm, and the next, thunder cracked across the clouds like a warning shot. The gala had ended, the limo was waiting, but Lucas didn’t say a word to Amelia during the drive back.The silence between them was no longer cold—it was electric.Amelia sat stiffly in her seat, heart racing from the encounter with Gabriel. His words haunted her. Lucas doesn’t do anything without a reason. He was right. There was something Lucas wasn’t telling her. A deeper motive. A hidden card. And it terrified her.But what terrified her more… was the way her body responded when he was near.⸻By the time they returned to the penthouse, the storm was in full force. Rain lashed the windows like wild fingers trying to get in. Lightning lit up the skyline in jagged flashes.Amelia headed straight to her bedroom.At least, she meant to.“Don’t go,” Lucas’s voice cut through the hallway behind her. He was stand
Strangers in the Same HouseAmelia woke to the cold silence of the penthouse.She wasn’t used to silence. Back in her family’s tiny apartment, life was always loud. Her father’s grumbling. Tyler’s cartoons playing too loud in the next room. Even the occasional argument from the neighbors upstairs. But here… it was so still, it felt like the air had frozen in place.The luxury of the mattress beneath her felt too soft, too foreign. She hadn’t slept so much as drifted in and out of restlessness, her mind plagued by dreams that didn’t belong to her—dreams of city lights, cold gray eyes, and golden contracts sealed in desperation.She glanced around the room again. Nothing had changed.Too white. Too perfect. Too… soulless.Like him.Amelia took a long breath and pulled the sheets off. It was time to face the day, even if it meant seeing him again. Lucas Stone. The man she’d married only hours ago, but who still felt like a stranger—no, a threat.She opened the walk-in closet and froze.E
The Contracted BrideThe sound of the pen scratching across the paper felt louder than it should’ve been, like a storm ripping through silence. Amelia’s hand trembled as she signed her name on the dotted line at the bottom of the blue document.Amelia Grace Hart.That signature marked the beginning of something she never imagined—not in her wildest nightmares. Not even when she had lain awake at night, wondering how much worse things could get. She was no longer just a desperate sister or a broken daughter. She had just signed her soul away to the coldest man she’d ever met.Lucas Stone.The billionaire CEO. Her ex-boss. And now—her contract husband.She laid the pen down and looked up, her heart pounding.Lucas, leaning against the edge of his desk, studied her with unreadable eyes. He didn’t smile. He didn’t blink. It was as though he were watching a transaction go through at the stock exchange, not agreeing to take a woman as his wife.“Effective immediately,” he said, his tone dry







