Amelia felt like the entire world had just crashed and burned right in front of her very eyes. She tried her very best, to stay upright, to be the calm CEO who had run away from an abusive family and started her own company.But she couldn’t. She slowly went on her knees, her fingers shaking hard, her breaths coming out in short bursts. No. Please, not Coulter. Not now.Her hand pressed on her chest hard as she shook her head and slowly stood up, tears running down her cheeks."I... I need to see him. He isn't married. Who is this wife who is restricting visitors?"The receptionist looked down at the record. "Melissa Martinez. She says....""They are divorced!" Amelia yelled, causing a few people to look over. "That woman is the one who made his life fucking hell so don't tell me you as a professional entrusted a man who is unconscious and unable to speak for himself in the hands of a woman who might just be the reason he is in there!"The receptionist flinched, her eyes blinking as

"What do you mean, maybe?" Amelia asked, her voice low and sounding like she was already at the very edge, and any little thing would tear her open right at the seams. Ian let out a small sigh, hisbeyes coming for a brief moment. "Look, Amelia, there are a lot of things that Coulter hasn't told you yet, a lot of thing that might help you inderstand what us happening right now but is totally not in my place to tell you."Amelia bit down on her lower lips and held on to Coulter's hand tighter. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that he was in a supercar that costs more than the initial networth of my company when the accident happened? The private jet I conveniently didn't ask for more information about because I was selfish and satisfied with having him right there by my side, and now that everything has stopped..." Her voice broke. "I need to confront it?"Ian swallowed hard. "Yes. Right now, we can only focus on this?"Amelia closed her eyes. "Could it be money? Are there

Melissa paced around the penthouse, her chest heaving hard. She was still in the same dress she had worn for the meeting, the same dress she had run to the hospital in.Madam Gabriella was sitting on the couch, her legs crossed, her right hand resting on her lap, while the other hand held a cup of tea to her lips. Her eyes wete cold as she watched her daughter pace up and down, hands on her waist."Can you believe it, mother? Coulter was the initial investor. He was the one who pumped fucking three hundred and fifty million dollars into my company. Not just that, when the accident happened earlier, he was not in just any sedan, definitely not the beat up one he always drove. He was in a fucking bugatti. Can you believe it?"Madam Gabriella slowly set the cup on the coffee table in front of her. "It is rather surprising. How are you sure the car belongs to him? Plus, the money for the investment, are you sure it really belongs to him? Maybe he is posing? Maybe he is just... ""There ar

Ian slowly walked back into the room, his lips lifting in a smile that showed that he had known from the very beginning. "She wouldn't stop crying," he said, his eyes darting between Coulter and Amelia. "I wasn't even sure if I wanted to console her or just tell her that you are so used to this that you smelled it coming from one misplaced static in your phone."Amelia gulped, then turned to Ian. "I hate you. Just know you owe me after this."Ian chuckled, then nodded. "I will pay you back, don't worry. For now, we apparently have a very gutsy man.. or woman in our hands."Amelia turned back to Coulter, who slowly pushed himself up, his back resting lightly on the bedrest. She immediately stood up and propped up the pillows behind him, then adjusted his head, and as if she couldn't help herself, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead, her hand gently caressing the right side of his face."Thank you," he whispered, and she gave a small smile and kissed his cheek once more before l

Peter lifted his eyes to the clock abive the dim flat, his chest heaving as his fingers clenched into tight fists.It was thirty nine minutes after two in the morning, and he was here, staring at nothing, waiting for the echo of his bad decisions to catch up with him.His eyes closed as he thought of the large stack of drugs that he had no way of shipping, of the threats that had started filling his phone ever since the Martinez bankruptcy news broke, and the pressure that forced him to stay awake.The woman he had been with until ten minutes ago was now snoring lightly, and the noise of that peace, despite how superficial, kept him grounded Damn that bitch, Melissa. His eyes thinned as he grabbed a cigarette and lighter, just as his phone lit up with a text message.His heart jumped into his throat, but he knew better than to ignore it or they might take him by surprise.He grabbed the phone, the lighter and cigarettes in one hand, while the other hand swiped the phone open.It was