The skies threatened rain, but none came. Just a heavy silence, dense with the weight of expectation, as if the world itself was waiting for something to shatter.
Amelia stood in front of the mirror, her reflection half-shadowed in the golden light of the bridal suite. The dress had been made in under seventy-two hours, yet somehow looked like it belonged to royalty. A soft ivory lace clung to her figure, intricate vines woven into every seam. The neckline dipped into a deep V, delicate yet dangerous, framing her collarbone like it had been crafted to expose not just her skin, but something more fragile beneath it. The long sleeves hugged her arms, sheer and elegant, while the train behind her whispered over the marble like secrets. She didn’t feel like herself in it. She felt like the version of Amelia Hart the world wanted.. powerful, claimed, beautiful in the way caged things often are. No bridesmaids. No mother fastening a necklace. Just Jane fighting back tears somewhere in the room, silence and pressure and the whisper of security guards checking corners. When she stepped into the ceremony hall, everything fell away. Frederick stood at the altar like a statue carved in vengeance. Jet-black suit tailored to a sin, a single dark flower pinned to his lapel. His face was unreadable, but his eyes... oh, those eyes never left hers. He didn’t smile. He didn’t blink. But the moment she started down the aisle, his entire body went still, like she had stolen the breath from the room. The walk felt endless. Every click of her heels echoed like a countdown. Every step forward felt like it might undo her. When she reached him, his hand took hers. Strong. Warm. Possessive. She didn’t flinch, but she didn’t look at him either. The officiant began, voice distant, swallowed by the roaring in her ears. Words were said, vows half-heard, legal statements confirmed. The ceremony moved like a blur of strings pulled by invisible hands. “Do you, Frederick Moretti, take Amelia Hart...” “Yes.” He didn’t wait for the full question. Amelia’s chest rose, a breath caught somewhere between disbelief and surrender. He hadn’t just answered. He had declared it. No hesitation. No doubt. And then it was her turn. Her voice didn’t shake when she said “I do,” but she felt it all the way through her. The rings were exchanged. Her fingers trembled for just a second when he slipped the cool metal over her skin. And then, it came. The moment. “You may now kiss the bride.” Her stomach flipped. Frederick stepped toward her slowly, like a man who knew he was crossing a line he could never come back from. His hand came to her waist first, grounding her. The other tilted her face up, fingers grazing along her jaw. He waited, just long enough to test the air between them. Then he kissed her. Not a polite brush of lips. Not a staged kiss for the press. This was a claim. Hot. Intentional. Desperate in its control. His mouth pressed into hers like he’d waited years for it. Her hands curled against his chest, grasping the silk of his suit like she needed to anchor herself. The kiss deepened with his lips coaxing hers open, tongue sliding against hers with a hunger that made her legs threaten to give way. She let out a sound... low, involuntary and felt his breath stutter at the sound of it. Her hand came up to his neck, fingertips brushing skin, pulling him impossibly closer. For a moment, the world really did disappear. The witnesses. The tension. The fear. All of it drowned in the fire between them. She felt it all. The danger. The unspoken need. The promise beneath the contract. He pulled back first, just slightly, breath hot against her lips. “Smile,” he whispered. She blinked, dazed. “Why?” “They’re watching.” She turned slowly, lips still burning, and smiled for the cameras. It wasn’t real, but the kiss had been. When they walked out together, hand in hand, into a world ready to tear them apart, Amelia knew something terrifying had happened. She had just signed herself into something more sinister than she could imagine And Frederick? He looked like a man who had just won something he never intended to give back.The hum of the engine was the only sound between them.Amelia sat rigid in the back of the black SUV, her fingers curled into the lace of her gown. The dress that made her look like a bride, but feel like a trophy. Her lips still burned from the kiss, the kind that wasn’t for show, no matter what he’d claimed. Her heart hadn’t settled since.Frederick sat beside her, silent, legs spread in that same signature pose, like he didn’t need to speak to command the room, or her.They weren’t heading back to the penthouse. She knew that much. After what happened, Frederick wouldn’t take that risk. No one had to say it aloud. They were being moved. Relocated. Hidden.A hotel, Luke had said. Discreet. Guarded. No press. No threats.Just the two of them.The thought should have brought comfort. It didn’t.Frederick finally spoke, his voice low and smooth. “You’re quiet.”“I didn’t realize I was expected to entertain you,” she said, not looking at him.“I just married you, Amelia. I expect a lot
The skies threatened rain, but none came. Just a heavy silence, dense with the weight of expectation, as if the world itself was waiting for something to shatter.Amelia stood in front of the mirror, her reflection half-shadowed in the golden light of the bridal suite. The dress had been made in under seventy-two hours, yet somehow looked like it belonged to royalty. A soft ivory lace clung to her figure, intricate vines woven into every seam. The neckline dipped into a deep V, delicate yet dangerous, framing her collarbone like it had been crafted to expose not just her skin, but something more fragile beneath it. The long sleeves hugged her arms, sheer and elegant, while the train behind her whispered over the marble like secrets. She didn’t feel like herself in it. She felt like the version of Amelia Hart the world wanted.. powerful, claimed, beautiful in the way caged things often are.No bridesmaids. No mother fastening a necklace. Just Jane fighting back tears somewhere in the r
The room had gone too quiet after Frederick said it. Three days. That was all the time he was giving them.Amelia didn’t speak at first. She just stared at him, half expecting him to take it back, to say the anesthesia hadn’t fully worn off and he’d been delirious. But he didn’t blink. He looked at her like a man who’d already made up his mind, and nothing she could say would change it.She wasn’t surprised he still wanted the wedding. That had been part of the agreement all along. But she hadn’t expected this version of it. Not three days after he almost died. Not while she still felt the echo of his blood under her fingernails. Not while her nerves were still fraying at the edges from everything she had seen and felt in the last twenty-four hours.Luke looked like he wanted to disappear, but he remained by the wall, phone in hand, trying not to breathe too loudly.“You’re pushing this too fast,” she said finally, her voice low, steady. “You just came out of surgery.”Frederick sat u
Someone was repeatedly calling her name, breaking the stifling silence that enveloped her.Amelia stirred in the rigid hospital chair, her body protesting as her neck ached and her legs felt half-asleep, numb from having sat for so long. Blinking her eyes open, she focused on the figure of the doctor standing over her, a reassuring presence amidst the sterile surroundings.“He’s awake,” the doctor said gently, a warmth in his voice that contrasted with the clinical atmosphere. “You can go in now.” Before she could fully process his words or even remember to take a breath, Amelia found herself on her feet, the urgency of the moment propelling her forward. The hallway stretched out before her, seeming longer and colder than she remembered. She could feel the clamminess of her hands as she gripped the door handle and pushed it open, her heart pounding in her chest.Frederick was awake.He was propped up against the pillows, looking pale yet alert, an array of wires snaking from one arm,
Frederick was gone before she could say goodbye.The gurney wheeled out quietly, swallowed by steel doors and sterile walls. There were no dramatic last looks, no parting words whispered in the hall. Just the sound of rolling wheels and monitors fading into a silence Amelia had never quite known before. She stood still, arms hanging at her sides, trying not to look at the empty space he’d left behind.Luke had already left. She had told him what to do, what to secure, and where to run damage control. He had listened. Not because she outranked him, but because in that moment, she was the only one who wasn’t breaking.Now, there was only her.Two black SUVs waited outside the hospital. Security followed like shadows, neither speaking nor asking questions. They moved as one, like this had all been rehearsed. And maybe it had.The ride to her apartment was quiet. She watched the city slide past, grey and thin, like the sky hadn’t made up its mind about rain. Every red light felt longer th
Amelia looked up.The nurse didn’t smile. “He’s stable. Vitals are holding. He’s alert enough to talk.”"And?"“There’s one more thing,” the nurse added, her tone quieter now. “We found something during imaging. A small foreign object embedded under the third rib. No surgical scar. No obvious trauma.”Amelia’s breath hitched.The nurse nodded. “Metallic. Likely guess, a tracker. We haven’t told him. We thought… maybe you should.”"So, I can go talk to him now?""Yes."Amelia turned back at Luke who gave her a go ahead nod.The halls felt too long. Her footsteps too loud. When she reached the room, the security detail outside gave a small nod, then stepped aside.Frederick was awake.Pale, yes. Hooked up to fluids, still groggy. But awake. His head turned when she walked in, his eyes tracking her slowly.“You look like hell” he rasped.Amelia said nothing. She crossed to the side of the bed and scanned the monitors out of habit.Frederick watched her the whole time.“How bad is it?”“Y