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Amelia
“It’s an opportunity of a lifetime, Amelia. Do you realize how much this could boost your career?”, Dr. Marks leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against the desk like he had all the time in the world.
I did not. What I saw was the flashing neon sign of regret associated with Ethan Steele's work.
“No, I'm not listening," I stated decidedly as I grabbed my tote bag. “Let’s be honest, I care about my peace of mind and from what I’ve been told, Ethan Steele doesn't come across as a piece of cake to find serenity.”
I knew I should have sent him over to someone else the moment Estelle told me she'd be transferring her patients to me, since she was resigning, but I hadn't.
I thought I could handle it. Handle him…And I was wrong. I dreaded our sessions more than I dreaded working overtime.
Dr. Marks sighed, his eyes narrowing in that patronizing way senior doctors often did when they felt superior. “Amelia, Ethan Steele isn’t just any patient. He’s the Ethan Steele. If you succeed with him, the doors it could open—”
A scoff escaped my lips. The only doors that could open were the doors of my office, ushering him out after each session.
“I’m not here for doors”. I cut him off, my voice sharper than I intended. “I’m here to help people heal, not babysit some billionaire who’s too proud to put in the work.”
“He’s not your typical case, " Dr. Marks pressed, sitting forward. “You’re the best physical therapist we have after Estelle. If anyone can handle him, it’s you.”
Handle him. As if I didn't have enough to do. Between juggling demanding clients, my clinic responsibilities, and my mother’s mounting medical bills, taking on a high profile case like Ethan Steele’s felt like asking for trouble.
“Find someone else,” I said, standing. “I can’t do this.”
The elevator ride down to the clinic’s lobby felt suffocating.
My cell phone rang inside my bag, but I did nothing about it.
Probably just another prompt about late payments or calls I just did not have the energy to respond to.
As I stepped outside, the brisk air snapped at my face. The walk to my apartment was only ten minutes, but I could already feel the weight of the day pressing down.
Just the idea of sitting in my dingy one bedroom apartment and wrestling with another pile of medical chill out sheets sent me spiraling.
When I finally unlocked the door, the dimly lit apartment did nothing to raise my spirits. It looked just as gloomy as I felt.
My mother’s hospital room wasn’t much better, but at least there, I had her soft voice and the smell of lavender lotion to ground me.
Here, it was just... emptiness.
The pile of unopened mail on the counter taunted me. Grabbing the top envelope, I tore it open. As expected, it was another hospital bill.
Total due: $12,473.21
I dropped the paper, my stomach knotting. I’d been managing to scrape by with my savings and freelance gigs, but this? This was impossible.
Before I could keep beating myself up about it, my phone buzzed back one more time. I grabbed it from the counter with the intention of terminating whoever was on the other side, but I stopped dead in my tracks when I read the name.
Jared Marshall.
Just hearing the name was enough to cause my chest to constrict.
Jared was the right hand man of Ethan Steele, with an unsentimental and uncompromising style. He had a cold and calculating demeanor but was a nice guy overall.
But that wasn't why I froze.
I'd met Jared before. Briefly. At an industry gala over a year and a half ago.
Back then, I'd been a nervous wreck, a new employee eager to please and practically dragging myself through the evening, counting down the minutes until I could leave.
I hadn't expected anyone to notice me, let alone strike up a conversation.
But Jared had.
That night, I had no idea who he was or he was working for, I was too nervous to ask.
We'd ended up at the same bar, both desperate for an escape from the crowd.
He'd ordered whiskey, neat, and offered to buy me a drink. I'd refused at first, but then he told me to relax, and somehow, we'd ended up talking.
About everything and about nothing.
I closed my eyes as I remembered how his sharp, cold demeanor had thawed just a little by the time we clinked glasses.
How his eyes had locked almost too intently on mine, as if I was the only person present. It made me feel like I could do anything.
But then nothing had happened between us, because before it could, he was called away.
A couple months later, I saw him on the news, standing next to Ethan Steele, the arrogant yet most coveted bachelor and billionaire in the city.
I had been relieved nothing had happened between Jared and I after seeing that.
Against my better judgment, I answered.
“Hello?”
“Miss Blake," Jared, with a deep, commanding sound, on the phone. “I trust you’ve heard about Ethan Steele’s condition?”
“Wow you're still cold…”
There was a pause at the other end, and I could tell he was smiling. He rarely smiled, but that night, he'd smiled…
Even laughed.
“And you're no longer nervous. Very sharp tongue.” He retorted, his voice still firm but less formal.
I smiled. “Much better…now…”
“You have to say yes.” Jared cut in.
I groaned inwardly. “I’ve heard enough. If this is to take him up as a client, I already turned down the offer and the answer is no.”
There was a break and then Jared spoke and my heart skipped a beat. “What if I told you there was more at stake here than just a therapy contract?”
I hesitated. “I’m not interested in publicity stunts.”
“This isn’t a stunt,” Jared said evenly. “This is about preserving Ethan’s legacy. The board is circling like vultures, and if Ethan doesn’t show progress soon, he’ll lose everything he’s built. That’s why we need you.”
The sincerity in his tone caught me off guard, but I wasn’t ready to relent. “Why me? Surely you can afford the best therapists in the world.”
“We already have the best therapist in the world, " Jared said smoothly. “And she’s the one I’m speaking to.”
Flattery wasn’t going to work on me. “I appreciate the compliment, but I have personal obligations. I am not able to handle this kind of case right now.”
I didn't tell him what I really felt. That I didn't want to deal with Ethan. Estelle stories about him were all I wanted them to be. Stories.
“I understand your hesitation,” Jared said, his voice softening. What if I showed you how to eliminate all of your financial troubles in a single stroke?”
My grip tightened on the phone. “What are you talking about?”
“A contract,” he said. One that carries with it full payment of your mother's medical debt, plus bonuses. The only catch is that it involves more than therapy.”
I frowned, suspicion rising. “What’s the catch?”
Something was up.
“You’d have to marry Ethan.”
The words hit me like a freight train. For a moment, I was sure I’d misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”
Then I threw my head back and laughed. This was a joke.
Has everyone gone mad today?
“It's a publicity stunt", Jared said, as if asking to marry a stranger was a perfectly good call. “The board needs to see Ethan as stable and rehabilitating. A wife would make him appear grounded, and your reputation would assure them he’s in the best hands.”
“This is insane,” I muttered, pacing my tiny kitchen. “You think I’m going to marry someone I’ve never met, let alone someone like Ethan Steele?”
“You wouldn’t be marrying him in the traditional sense,_ Jared said. “It’s a business arrangement. “You would live with him, care for him, and pretend to be a couple in good spirits. Once the situation stabilizes, you’re free to leave.”
I did want to giggle, but nothing was funny about any of this. “And what if I say no?”
How did I go from being a therapist to a wife?
There was a long silence before Jared spoke, "Well I hope you are ready to watch your mother's condition get worse while you wait for a miracle to make those payments.”
I froze. This was no longer funny. Who did he think he was?How dare he weaponize my mother’s health against me?
“How dare you? No. No way. I will not do it!” I heard myself yell.
“You have 24 hours to decide. Please think carefully about your decision” Jared said. “Consider what this has the potential to do for you, your mother, and your career.”
“Now, look here. You can tell Ethan Steele that—”
The line went dead.
I stared at my phone, doing my best to control the way my hands were shaking with anger. This couldn’t be real.
However, the pile of money on my counter begged to differ. It was real, and somehow I had a chance to clear all these debts and finally be free.
I had a chance to save my mother.
Clutching the silver necklace on my chest, I sank into a chair.
This was nuts. Everyone was nuts. Marry Ethan Steele? Live under the same roof as a crippled man known for his temper and arrogance?
I couldn't do it.
Yet, the alternative was even grimmer. It was either that or sink into the ground with debts, or probably lose my mother.
I swallowed hard, tears stinging
my eyes. How has my life come to this? Why was everything suddenly so hard?
Jared said I had a choice, but that was a lie.
I had no choice.
It was either this or death
Ethan’s POVI barely slept that night.I stayed in the uncomfortable chair beside Amelia’s bed, one hand wrapped around hers the whole time. Every time she shifted, I woke up. Every time a machine beeped, my heart stopped. By morning, my back hurt and my eyes burned, but I didn’t care.She was still here. Still breathing. Still safe.A nurse came in around eight. “Mr. Sterling, the doctor will be in soon. She’ll need some tests.”I nodded and tried not to look as tired as I felt.Amelia blinked awake a few minutes later. She looked confused at first, then she saw me and relaxed.“You stayed,” she whispered.“Of course I did.”She pushed her hair out of her face, wincing a little. “You didn’t have to.”“I did,” I said, because it was the truth. “I wasn’t leaving you alone.”She looked down at our hands, then slowly loosened her grip. “You can go home, Ethan. Shower. Rest.”“I’m fine.”“You’re exhausted.”“And you’re in a hospital bed,” I said. “That matters more.”She didn’t argue afte
Ethan’s POVI hated hospitals.Hospitals always felt too bright. Sometimes they were too quiet in the wrong places and too loud in the ones that mattered.I sat on the hard plastic chair outside Amelia’s room, elbows on my knees, hands tangled in my hair. Every few seconds I looked at the door even though nothing changed. A nurse had told me she was stable, but “stable” wasn’t enough. Not when she’d passed out in my arms. Not when she’d said her stomach hurt.I checked my phone again. No messages. Just the faint smell of antiseptic.Footsteps came down the hall. I looked up and saw Detective Hale. He held a folder under his arm and looked like he hadn’t slept in days.“Sterling,” he said.I stood. “She’s okay. They said she’s okay.”“I know.” Hale nodded. “I spoke to the doctor. She’s under observation. They’re keeping her overnight.”Relief punched through me, but only halfway. “What about the baby?”Hale’s expression softened a little. “The OB team is working on that. They won’t kno
Ethan’s POVI wasn’t supposed to follow her.But when I saw Amelia leaving the precinct earlier that afternoon, pale and quiet, something in me said she wasn’t going home.She’d looked like she was carrying the whole world on her shoulders. And I’d had enough of not knowing what she was keeping from me.So I followed her car. Kept a few lengths behind.When she parked near the river, outside that little restaurant with too many glass windows, my gut twisted..Sienna’s car was already there.I stayed in the car at first, watching through the window. The place was almost empty. Just a waiter by the counter, wiping glasses. Then I saw Sienna walk in, confident as ever, but there was something off. Her hair was messy, lipstick smudged, and her steps didn’t match her smile.Amelia stood when she saw her, nervous but trying to hide it. They started talking. From outside, I couldn’t hear the words, but I saw Amelia sitting rigid, Sienna leaning forward like a knife about to cut.Then Sienna
Amelia’s POVI was filled with guilt. I didn’t sleep much. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Leo’s face.The morning light made everything worse. The apartment looked too normal with the coffee machine humming, TV mumbling in the background, the smell of toast I didn’t eat. Ethan had gone to work early and as usual I was home alone. After a while, I stood up, grabbed my coat, and left. I had to see Dr Marks.At the station, the same officer from yesterday gave me a look like he recognized me but didn’t say anything. I told him I needed to see Dr. Marks. He made a quick call and waved me through.The visiting room was cold. Marks sat behind the glass, wearing a beige jumpsuit that made him look smaller somehow. He smiled when he saw me, like I’d just shown up for coffee instead of this.“You shouldn’t have come,” he said into the phone.“I had to.” I sat down. My fingers wouldn’t stay still. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”He gave a small shrug. “It’s already done.”“You didn’t kill
Ethan’s POVThe drive to the precinct was quiet. Amelia sat beside me, hands folded in her lap, her shoulders pressed back against the seat like she was trying to disappear. I wanted to reach over and take her hand, but I didn’t. She’d barely spoken since morning, and every time I said her name, she just nodded like she was underwater.We hit a red light, and rain tapped against the windshield in small, sharp beats. “You don’t have to come in,” I said finally. “I’ll talk to Hale myself.”Her voice was thin. “I should be there.”“I’ll handle it.”She didn’t argue, but her fingers tightened on her jeans. Her wedding band glinted under the weak daylight, and for a second I thought about the night I’d put it there and how sure I’d been that I could keep her safe.Now I wasn’t sure of anything.I pulled into the lot outside the precinct and turned off the engine. Amelia stared straight ahead at the glass doors.“Ethan,” she said quietly. “What if this makes everything worse?”“It won’t.”
Ethan’s POVSienna smiled like she’d just handed me a loaded gun. “That's all I'm going to say, handsome.” She winked at me and I frowned. Why the hell was she not giving up?And then she turned and walked out, swinging her hips from side to side.The door shut behind her, and the room went too quiet. I stood there for a full minute, staring at the door, my pulse still running ahead of me.‘Ask her where she was last night.’ What the hell was that supposed to mean?I sat down again, tried to read the email that had been open on my screen, but the words didn’t stick. The letters blurred together until they stopped meaning anything. I rubbed the back of my neck, leaned back in the chair, and stared at the skyline outside the window.Maybe she was lying. That’s what Sienna did, she lied, twisted things, made people doubt what they knew was true. But still.Amelia had been acting strange.The flinch that morning, the fake smile, was she cheating on me? I told myself to stop thinking like







