The scent of lilies, Amara’s favorite still filled the air. On her finger, the diamond, the size of a teardrop caught the moon light, its brilliance mocking the dull ache in her heart.
"Thanks for backing back then... I really appreciate it, Julian," Amara whispered. Her eyes drifted to the ring. It felt heavy, a symbol of a future she wasn’t sure she was allowed to have. She began to tug at it, her knuckles white, but the band wouldn’t budge. It was as if the ring itself had decided it belonged there.
"I was serious about the proposal," Julian said, his voice a steady anchor in the room. He didn’t look at the ring; he looked only at her. "And my family consents, too."
He glanced toward the corner of the room where his mother, Madam Vale, sat with the poise of a queen. She offered Amara a warm, genuine smile. "I approve, dear. More than you know."
Amara looked down at her lap, her voice trembling. "But I’m not looking for a relationship now. I... I..." The cruel words of her forr mother-in-law, Madam Creed, echoed in her head like a curse: Who would want a used, broken woman like you? You’re lucky Sebastian even looks at you.
"No problem," Julian interrupted gently, sensing the ghosts haunting her. "I can wait. Besides, Madam Pedro has my back."
Madam Pedro let out a rich, hearty laugh that filled the room. "Ha! You brat. Good job this ti. Coming back the mont I told you to. I feel at ease leaving Amara in your care, Julian."
Julian stepped closer, his fingers grazing Amara’s hand as he held it with a reverence Seb had never shown. "Well, I’ve waited a decade for this chance. I wasn’t going to miss it twice."
Amara looked up at him, her brow furrowed in genuine confusion. "If you really liked for ten years... how co I never knew? How is any of this happening right now? It feels like... it’s too much of a coincidence."
Julian’s expression softened, a shadow of the boy he used to be flickering in his eyes. "It wasn’t a coincidence, Amara. I was always in the background. I watched you marry him because I thought he would make you happy. I stayed away out of respect. But the mont I saw you were in danger, the decade of waiting ended."
"You should get so rest. You did great tonight," Julian whispered, his eyes filled with a pride that didn’t demand anything in return. "I will finalize the transfer of Creed Tech to you. It’s yours now, Amara. All of it."
Amara looked down at her hands, still feeling the ghost of his kiss on her knuckles. "Are you not mad that I...?" she had started to ask, her mind swirling with the chaos of the gala and the bridge she had finally burned.
"Believe , I’m not," he had replied, his voice a low, steady rumble. "Every decision you took was the best."
As the heavy, ornate doors of the Pedro mansion clicked shut behind Julian, leaving a lingering scent of sandalwood and a silence that felt far too loud.
Madam Pedro stood by the grand fireplace, swirling a glass of amber liquid, a triumphant smirk on her face. "Wow, that was a hell of a gala. You were great, my dear. The look on the Creeds’ faces was worth every penny."
She paused, her expression softening into sothing more nostalgic. "Too bad your twin sister isn’t here to see you finally stand up for yourself."
The air in the room instantly turned to lead. Amara’s posture went rigid, her face pale as if her mother had spoken a forbidden curse. The diamond on her finger felt cold.
"I will go to my room now, Mother," Amara said, her voice clipped, avoiding the older woman’s gaze.
"Amara, dear," Madam Pedro called out, stopping her at the foot of the stairs. The playful tone was gone, replaced by the weary weight of a mother’s confusion. "Did sothing happen between you and your sister that I’m not aware of? You two haven’t spoken in thirteen years. She won’t co ho, no matter what I do. She won’t even step foot in this country."
Amara gripped the banister until her knuckles turned white. Thirteen years of silence. Thirteen years of a shared face but a fractured soul. The mories flickered, a dark night, a bitter argunt, and a secret that had sent her twin fleeing across the ocean, leaving Amara to face the world alone.
Amara ascended the stairs, each step heavy with the fatigue of a woman who had fought a war in a single night. The ntion of Amira was a sting she wasn’t prepared for, a na that carried as much ghosts as the nursery she would now never fill.
"Mother, she is your daughter too," Amara said, her voice echoing slightly in the grand foyer. "I’m not the reason she isn’t coming ho. And will you stop treating us like kids? We are adults; we can resolve our differences."
Madam Pedro stepped forward, her eyes narrowing with sharp maternal intuition. "So there is an issue," she pressed, her voice catching on the realization.
Amara paused on the landing, the silhouette of her broken figure frad by the moonlight spilling through the stained-glass windows. "Today was a long night. I love you, Mother, but I cannot do this right now."
Madam Pedro sighed, the fight draining out of her as she looked at her daughter’s bruised spirit. "Yes, baby. Get so rest," she said softly. She watched Amara disappear into the shadows of the upper hallway, knowing that while Amara had reclaid her power from the Creeds tonight, the battle with her own blood was far from over.
Amara locked her bedroom door and leaned against it, her breath hitching. She walked to the vanity and looked at her reflection, the sa face that belonged to a woman halfway across the world.
Thirteen years ago, they were inseparable. Now, they were strangers bound by a secret that had started the day Amara t Sebastian.
She reached into her jewelry box and pulled out an old, crumpled photograph hidden beneath the velvet lining. It was of her and Amira at fifteen. They were laughing, their arms linked. But Amara’s eyes drifted to the background of the photo, to a young, handso man watching them from a distance.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. It wasn’t Seb this ti. It was an international number. A number she hadn’t seen on her screen in over a decade.
I heard what happened at the warehouse. Do you need to co back? Don’t think for a second I’m doing this for you.
Amara’s heart hamred against her ribs. Amira wants to co back.
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