Amelia Head Novels & Stories

“Don't you remember? Chairman Zimmer and my young master are old acquaintances, so I naturally know your number.” Amelia rubbed her forehead feeling a headache coming on. Fortunately, she had anticipated this. She had returned to New York this time to seek revenge on Leo and he would eventually find out about her information. So she wasn't surprised. “What's the matter?” She asked. “Madam, did you lose an earring?” Amelia paused. She stopped rummaging through her things and asked silently, “Is it with you?” “No, it's with my young master. He said if you want it you can come and get it yourself.”

Amelia shook the glass in her hand, rotating the champagne on it. She smirked and took both the bottle and glass to the restroom. She emptied them and washed them vigorously. She then dumped them in the trash can in her room. Amelia sighed and walked to her wardrobe. Instead of bringing out a dress, she brought two large plastic bags, which would be used in wrapping their bodies up. She walked to the bed and dropped the plastic bags, she left the room and went to call her maid. Her maid was her accomplice.

Turning to the armrest, she laid her head there, her eyes glistening, as though tears were threatening to spill. A moment later, Amelia walked in. She was dressed in a sharp navy-blue corporate suit, the blazer hugging her figure perfectly over a crisp white blouse, paired with a sleek pencil skirt that stopped just below her knees. On her feet were pointed black heels, and in her hand, a glossy designer handbag. Her hair was styled in a smooth low bun with soft waves at the front, elegant and professional. But the confidence of her appearance faltered when she saw Hazel. Amelia’s face softened instantly, her painted lips pressing into a thin line. She sighed and walked closer, crouching dow

I said clinging onto her hand. Skye's smile widens and wrapped her arms around my waist. "Damn my friend she's definitely a keeper." A tall woman in a green outfit, with a British accent, said. "Amelia, let me introduce you to my sweet. My sweet this is Amelia Xena Callahan, and Amelia this is Adeline Adia Davis." Amelia is wearing a green sexy sling V-neck high waist bag hip dress, complemented with a gold necklace and a mint green color stiletto.

Amelia chuckled and shook her head. She saw Hudson staring at her from afar. She wanted to talk to James about him when all of a sudden, she heard Ma’am Alba scream. “Ma’am Amelia!!! Alice is gone!”

Amelia was still frozen and waiting when a cold lining of jewelry touched her skin. Alpha Alex throw his hands over her neck and hung a pendant over her neck. Amelia looked down to find jewellery made of real gold and shaped like the crescent moon. It draped down her neck as the V-line formed itself from the way she had seen it. "Do you like it?" Alpha Alex asked. He sounded so satisfied with what he had done. "Turn around" Amelia turned to see him smiling at her. Alex had stars in his eyes. His long lashes fluttered together when he blinked, while he was staring at her.

While Amelia was crying she had overheard some conversation going on and she smiled wickedly. The next morning she waited for news to report a missing person or anyone on the internet to post about it. When it was getting to noon and still no news about Victoria. she smiled got dressed and called some media friendds. Amelia stood before the cameras dressed in white. Not the kind of white that screamed innocence but the kind that suggested mourning. With soft makeup plastered on her face she insisted on not wearing jewelry. Her hair pulled back neatly, exposing her face to the world like she had nothing to hide.

I asked her, feeling concerned because I didn't want anything happening to her when she went to her mother's. Amelia nodded her head, "yes, I'll be fine. I guess it's time..." she cleared her throat, "I guess it's time that I finally try to mend our relationship. She's not a bad person, she just made a lot of bad decisions," Amelia tucked her yellow hair behind her ears. She was so young, looking at her now I realise that she’s a child- literally. Amelia is only 16 years old and it breaks my heart to know that she had witnessed what had happened last night.

I stepped through the side door, my flashlight catching a scatter of oil drums and old rigging ropes. And there she was. Amelia. Sitting cross-legged on an upturned crate, phone in hand, purse slung at her feet. Her hair was pulled back too tight, a neat braid like she thought being tidy would save her. “Adrian,” she called, voice echoing. “Brave of you to come yourself.” I stepped closer, careful not to show the disgust crawling under my ribs. “Brave of you to think you’re worth the effort.” She laughed — short, sharp, like glass shattering. “You know, I didn’t want this. I really didn’t. But you made it so easy. Always so busy protecting your perfect Eliana, your precious legacy.”