Semua Bab While Marrying Mr. Steele: Bab 71 - Bab 80

Amelia's pov We reached the villa just as the sun began to slip behind the hills, spilling molten gold and burnt orange across the water. The air was thick with salt and the faint, smoky scent of grilled fish from somewhere down the coast. Ethan carried most of the bags, despite my protests, his long fingers hooked easily through the handles.“You’re impossible,” I muttered as we crossed the threshold.“And you’re predictable,” he shot back, a half-smile tugging at his mouth. “I told you—quick stop. Somehow you bought out half the damn market.”I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help laughing, though it came out thinner than I intended. “Oh please. Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy haggling with that spice vendor. I swear you two were flirting by the end.”He paused just inside the kitchen, setting the heavier bags down with a soft thunk on the counter. His smirk faltered—not much, but enough that I caught it. “She was old enough to be my mother,” he said, voice flat now.I leaned against t

Amelia's pov: present "Ethan…"His name scraped out of my throat before I even knew I was saying it.But no one answered.I was slumped on the floor just inside the bedroom door, the towel clutched hard against me already soaked through and warm with blood. The air smelled like lavender and saltwater, and the tiles beneath me felt so cold, it made my teeth chatter.I pressed my palm harder against the towel, trying to convince myself it was enough to stop it. But the blood kept coming.I tried to sit up straighter and immediately felt the world tilt sideways. My vision swam. My fingers went numb.Beyond the door I could still hear faint laughter, faint murmuring—Ethan’s voice low and warm. For half a second it comforted me. Then the sound twisted itself into something sharp, something mean. My mind conjured her—Sienna out there with him, lips red, hand on his arm. Smiling like she already knew how this would end.I hated myself for thinking it, but the thought stuck in my ribs and wo

Amelia's pov "I didn’t cry."That’s the first lie I told myself.But the second the door shut behind him, and I was alone in that white hospital room, I broke.Hot, silent tears slid into my hair as I stared at the ceiling and gripped the stiff sheets so hard my knuckles ached.When Ethan came back, I’d already wiped my face. He carried two water bottles. He set one on the table, twisting the cap for me without looking up."Here. Drink when you can.""Thank you," I murmured, my throat dry.His head lifted, just slightly. His eyes scanned mine like he could see what I wasn’t saying, then dropped again. He sat, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together."You should’ve told me sooner," he muttered."I didn’t know it would get that bad," I said."It doesn’t matter. You should’ve told me.""You weren’t here," I shot back, sharper than I meant.His head came up fully then. "Don’t start.""Why not?"His jaw flexed. "Because I’m here now. That’s what matters.""Is it?"

Amelia's pov I woke in my own bed the next morning, startled for a moment to find myself here.The sheets smelled faintly of lavender and sea air, sun-warmed from yesterday, though the room was still cool. I stretched my legs under the covers, testing them. They didn’t feel like they belonged to me yet, but they moved. That was something.I’d expected to lie awake most of the night, but somehow sleep had claimed me anyway — deeper and longer than I’d thought possible.And now, in the strange quiet of the villa, it felt almost obscene to have slept so well.The silence was the worst part. The house was too big, too still. Every faint creak of wood or sigh of wind through the balcony doors sounded louder here.By the time sunlight crept across the floor, I couldn’t lie there anymore.I got up.Showered.Dressed in the simplest things I owned — soft black pants, a pale sweater, flats. My hair went into a low knot at the base of my neck. No makeup. I couldn’t bear to see my own reflectio

POV: EthanThe storm came in faster than any of us expected.Marco and I were standing near the back veranda, going over the last of the plans for our early departure, when the first roll of thunder cracked overhead. By the time we stepped into the courtyard, the wind had already whipped itself into a frenzy.Marco cursed under his breath, gesturing toward the staff who were rushing to pull in cushions and board up the outdoor shutters."You mind giving a hand?" he called over the howl of the wind. "We’ll have this sorted in twenty minutes.""Of course," I said, tugging my jacket tighter and limping across the slick stones to help one of the younger staff wrestle down a patio umbrella.It wasn’t until the first sheet of rain came down that I noticed her.Sienna, standing at the far side of the courtyard beneath the overhang, her arms folded tight over her chest. Her dress—black, sleeveless, clinging—seemed wholly impractical for the weather, though knowing her, that was the point.She