Chapter 111
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ADRIAN’S mansion was bathed in soft golden light, the kind that did little to mask the emptiness of its wide halls. He had returned from the gala almost an hour ago, but sleep was the last thing on his mind. His jacket was already
off, draped lazily over the arm of a sofa, the top button of his shirt undone. In his hand was a crystal glass half-
filled with deep red wine, the liquid catching faint glimmers from the chandelier as he strolled slowly across the living room.
He paused at the large glass window that overlooked the city, the lights below glittering like a sea of fireflies. Taking a sip, he let the silence around him settle, but his thoughts refused to quiet down. Amelia. Her face, her smiles, the way her eyes darted nervously when Ryan appeared, it all replayed in his mind like an unrelenting film reel.
Adrian exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair.
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“Ryan…” he muttered bitterly under his breath. That man always had a way of being there, intruding on the that should have been his and Amelia’s alone. He clenched his jaw at the memory of seeing Ryan walk right into them at the restroom hallway, interrupting what could have been, or what should have been a moment. The look on Amelia’s face had betrayed everything. She was shaken. Torn in between. And though she tried to mask it, Adrian could feel it, her heart still knew him.
He lowered himself into the leather armchair setting the wine glass on the table beside him. Leaning forward, he clasped his hands together and stared into the fireplace across the room, though the flames there had long burned out. His mind slipped back to the way Amelia looked at him during the gala, half defiant, half vulnerable. If there was ever one thing he now hated, it was himself. He hated himself for letting her slip away from him, and building a life that excluded him.
The wine burned warmly down his throat as he took another sip, but it couldn’t wash away the sting of Ryan’s presence. The man had stolen enough of his wife’s time, her attention. Adrian hated the thought of him being the one Amelia confided in when she should have been leaning on him.
“Ahhhh!” He sighed deeply.
He tilted his head back against the chair, eyes closed. He thought of Hazel, his little girl. Did she ask about him tonight, while he was out pretending to play the perfect host, perfect man, at that gala? He imagined her eyes, wide and curious, asking Amelia why her father wasn’t there at dinner. The thought dug deep into him, the ache of longing swelling in his chest.
He rose to his feet again, restless, and paced slowly back toward the window. The glass was cool under his fingertips as he pressed his palm to it, staring out at the glowing city below.
“I should be there,” he whispered to himself, almost angrily. “I should be with them p>
Yet he wasn’t.
Instead, he was here, haunted by memories of a woman who still owned his heart, and by the shadow of another man who dared to stand in the place that was his by right. Adrian took another sip of wine, his eyes hardening with resolve. He couldn’t let Ryan keep coming between them. Not again.
Because no matter how far Amelia tried to run, no matter how long she tried to shut him out, deep down, Adrian knew, he knew that her story, her life, wasn’t complete without him. And he would find a way back to her, no matter the cost.
The house was quiet now, draped in the stillness of night. The laughter and chatter of dinner had long faded,
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leaving behind only the soft ticking of the wall clock and the occasional cry from one of the twins down the hallway.
Amelia stood at Hazel’s bedside, smoothing her daughter’s hair back as she hummed softly. Hazel had dozed off mid-conversation, her little arms curled around her stuffed bunny, lips parted in the pure innocence of sleep. Amelia watched her for a moment longer, brushing a kiss against her forehead.
“Goodnight, my angel,” she whispered, tugging the blanket snugly over her daughter.
The floor creaked softly under Amelia’s steps as she left Hazel’s room and padded down the corridor toward the nursery. The twins were nestled in their cribs, breathing deeply, their tiny chests rising and falling in rhythm. Even though Beth had already rocked them to sleep earlier, Amelia couldn’t resist. She leaned over, resting her palms lightly on the wooden edge of the cribs, drinking in their so delicate and perfect faces.
Her eyes softened, but with them came a prick of pain. Adrian’s face flashed across her mind, the resemblance in the curve of their noses, the stubborn line of their chins. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she straightened.
“No,” she murmured under her breath, her resolve tightening.
She switched off the soft lamp in the nursery and made her way to her own room. The weight of the day, the gala, the collision with Adrian at the restroom, the memories clawing their way back, pressed down on her shoulders. She slipped into her nightdress, pulling back the covers, and collapsed into bed with a sigh.
For a long while she lay staring at the ceiling, the moonlight casting shifting shadows across the walls. The part of her heart that once belonged wholly to Adrian stirred, restless, tugged by the way he looked at her tonight. She shut her eyes tightly, willing the thought away.
“I’m fine without him,” she whispered fiercely into the silence.
The words hung heavy in the air, a declaration as much to herself as to the ghosts of their past. She had built something, her children, her businesses, her life, all without him. She didn’t need Adrian to breathe, to move forward. She didn’t.
Pulling the duvet higher, she turned on her side, hugging the pillow close as though it might shield her from her own wavering heart.
“I don’t need him,” she repeated softly, her voice breaking this time.
But soon enough, her exhaustion won over. Her eyes fluttered shut, and with the faint cries of the twins settling once again in the distance, Amelia drifted into sleep, clinging desperately to the belief that she was fine without
him.
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Cedella
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.