DAMIAN There was a nasty sort of silence after Petra's declaration. Amelia looked dreadful. She pressed her hands between her legs, probably to stop them from shaking. Petra looked around at everyone to take in the effects her words had caused. She looked exultant like Christmas had come early. "And how did you come by that information, Petra?" I finally asked. Petra splayed her fingers on the table and leaned forward. "What does it matter? That's not the point. The point is that now I know all about your dirty little secret. You must show a representative of the firm the contents of that box so they'll have all the proof they need to convict you as a bloody manipulator. You think you're so smart, huh? How does it feel to feel the rug pulled from under your feet? And you-" She pointed a finger at Amelia, who instantly shrank back. "-He's going to go down, and you're going down with him." She glowered at Harry. "Well, what the hell are we still doing here? Let's go, get the

DAMIAN As Anton turned onto the street that would take us to the gym, he said, "You have to tread cautiously." "Er- and what are you referring to?" "You and Amelia. You shouldn't have sex with her. Remember that the contract lasts for only one year. If you're constantly intimate with her, don't you think everything will get more complicated when it's time for both of you to split up?" I felt his eyes on me, so I looked out the window. "Who said I was still having sex with her anyway?" Anton snorted. "Last night at your place, I saw the way you two were looking at each other-" "We were just excited at getting rid of Petra." Anton kept talking as though he didn't hear me. "You both looked as though you couldn't wait for me to leave before taking your clothes off." When I said nothing, he added in a more humourous tone. "And if I had any doubts about what you two were up to last night, I only have to look at your face to know I'm right. But seriously, Damian. Don't

AMELIA I was peering at the screen of my computer, surfing the net and writing down prices of some items I wished to purchase when Rose, the manager of my bakery, called me. "Hello?" I picked up the phone eagerly. "Ma'am," she gasped and swallowed audibly. I sat upright immediately. Just that one word and I knew that something was very, very wrong. Unconsciously, I gripped the phone tightly. "Rose, what's wrong?" She made a sound halfway between a gasp and a sigh. She seemed to be struggling to speak. "I'm sorry... It's just that I'm still so shaken... though we've got it under control, but for a while, I thought- I thought-" She swallowed again. "Take a deep breath and tell me what happened," I said more calmly than I felt. Rose audibly exhaled. "There's been a fire at the bakery." "WHAT?" My hands trembled, and I grabbed the phone tighter. "It's under control now," she hastened to add. “We were able to put out the fire.” My brain whirled in a hundred d

AMELIA The party was finally over. The guests were gone. The house had been tidied up, thanks to the servers hired for the event, but I still could not get the sight of Damian's annoyed expression out of my head when he registered that he had walked into a surprise birthday party. Anton was right. Damian actually did hate surprise parties, but after a while, he accepted the party with good grace. However, I had noticed that whenever no one had been close enough to engage him in conversation, he tended to stay by himself at the back of the room, sipping a drink and looking like he wished he were somewhere else. Anton had not allowed him to brood. I put away the unused bottles of wine in the fridge and searched for Damian. I found him nibbling on a piece of his birthday cake and scowling as though remembering something unpleasant. He didn’t look particularly excited, but he didn’t look like he would bite either. "Hey, birthday boy," I said, lowering myself onto the sofa bes

DAMIAN I drummed my fingers impatiently on the desk in my study as I thought of what to do. Getting Amelia released from jail was simple enough. Getting her released it in such a way that no one got wind of the fact that she had gotten arrested in the first place, was the challenge. The issue would have to be handled really carefully. A wave of anger and irritation coursed through me. What had she gone and gotten herself arrested for? "Focus, Damian. Focus," I muttered to myself. I grabbed my phone and quickly scrolled through it for a while before I found the number I was looking for. I dialed it. The man was a lawyer I had some dealings with a while ago. He had useful connections with the bigwigs and authority figures in this city and beyond. He was the soul of discretion, and discretion was what I needed at this moment. "Mr Donovan," he said through the phone. "It's been quite a while." "Yes. Yes. I need your help with something. My wife, Amelia, has got herself into a