Chapter 87

Amelia

I didn’t mean to start a fight. Not really. I just wanted to feel something other than invisible. Something real. Something that reminded me I still mattered to him.

It started the way it always did, late, quiet, locked doors and hushed steps. I went to his office because that’s what we did now. That was our unspoken agreement. The shadows between us were safer than the light. The door opened and he looked up, something soft flickering in his eyes for half a second before he swallowed it down like it was a mistake.

I kissed him before either of us could speak. I pulled him in like I was drowning and he was the only thing tethering me to the surface. His hands found my waist and I felt him start to lift me, like this was any other night, like we were going to lose ourselves in each other for an hour and pretend it didn’t mean anything. But it did. It meant everything. And pretending it didn’t was starting to feel like I was erasing myself from the inside out.

I broke the kiss, breath coming fast. “I can’t keep doing this.”

He blinked, still holding me. “Doing what?”

“This. Us. Whatever the hell this is supposed to be.”

He set me down slowly, the warmth of his touch vanishing like smoke. “We agreed. We said no feelings.”

“No,” I said, voice shaking now. “You said that. And I agreed because I thought maybe pretending not to care would hurt less than admitting I did. I thought it would be easier if I played along. But it’s not. It’s so much worse.”

He stepped back, arms crossing like a shield. “We did this to protect you.”

“From what, Richard? From the truth? From me? From the fact that this, whatever this is, was never just sex?”

“I have enemies. So do you. People are already whispering about you, ”

“They’ve been whispering since the moment I stepped foot in this place,” I snapped, louder than I meant to. “Since the moment you vouched for me. Since I dared to show up without a wolf. I’ve been fighting for every scrap of respect in that building, and you think this is what’s going to ruin me?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The silence settled between us, heavy and accusing.

“I’m not a child. I can take the heat. But this, sneaking around, being reduced to a footnote in my own life, only being touched when no one’s looking, it’s killing me.”

His jaw tightened. “You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t want to hold your hand in front of the council? You think I don’t want to scream at the top of my lungs that you’re mine?”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because if this got out, it would be a scandal, Amelia. The kind of scandal that could tank the entire election, give David exactly what he needs to rip us apart. Everything I’ve built, everything we’ve worked for, —gone.”

My laugh was sharp and bitter. “Well too late for that, huh?”

He flinched. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t remind you that I was the one who had everything to lose when we started this? That every look, every whisper, every power play in that building is designed to push me out?”

“I never wanted that for you.”

“But you let it happen. You let them call me names and sideline me and now I’m being set up as a distraction story while you stay clean. Do you even realize how much that hurts?”

His voice was low, raw. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?”

He looked at me like I’d slapped him. “Maybe we need space. Until the election is over.”

I felt the floor shift beneath me. “Wow. That’s your solution? To disappear?”

“I’m not disappearing.”

“No, you’re just removing the problem. Classic move, honestly. You don’t even see what this is doing to me.”

“I see it. You think I sleep at night? You think I don’t hear your voice in every room I walk into? You’re in my bones, Amelia. That’s the problem.”

“Then act like it.”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“You’re not protecting me. You’re being selfish. You’re protecting yourself, your image, your reelection. You talk about keeping me safe like it’s some noble burden, but the truth is, you’re just scared to lose your power.”

The silence after that was the loudest thing I’d ever heard. I turned and left before I could say something that would shatter us completely.

Emma didn’t ask questions when I showed up at her apartment. She opened the door, took one look at my face, and pulled me into a hug. She didn’t push, didn’t press. She just wrapped me in a blanket and handed me a glass of wine. I was grateful for the silence. I needed it. The kind of quiet she offered was a gift, no expectations, no judgement, just the knowledge that I wasn’t alone.

Before she could say anything, I whispered, "Please don't ask. I can’t talk about it yet. I just... need to not be alone."

Emma hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. No questions.”

Richard

I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her walking out that door, shoulders stiff, not even giving me a second look. I wanted to run after her, to say something, anything, that would undo the last five minutes. But there had been too many chances to fix it before, and I’d let them all slip through my fingers.

By morning, I was a mess of fury and regret. And I didn’t have the luxury of falling apart. I still had a campaign to run, a kingdom to hold together, and now, apparently, a crumbling personal life I couldn’t talk about with anyone.

The council was waiting for me outside my office. Harris and Tomlin, both wearing that polite expression they reserved for moments when they wanted to tear me apart in a civil tone.

“You’ve been skipping briefings,” Harris said, his voice sharp but laced with fake concern. “There’s concern.”

“I’m up to date,” I said flatly.

Tomlin folded his arms. “The concern isn’t about your schedule. It’s about your priorities.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t need to. They weren’t wrong. I hadn’t been focused. Not entirely. Not since I let Amelia crawl into my bed and take up permanent residence in my mind. Not since I’d convinced myself that staying close to her but pretending we were nothing would somehow protect her. It had only hurt her instead.

And then Jenny stormed into the press room like a woman possessed. “I’ll be endorsing David,” she declared, mic in hand, like she was unveiling a damn art piece.

I was across the room in seconds. “Shut it down.”

Council override stopped the broadcast before it began, but not before half the staff heard her say it. Not before I saw the smug curl of Elsa’s mouth in the security footage. She was still pulling Jenny’s strings, even from the political dead zone we’d banished her to.

I stormed back to comms, fingers already aching from the urge to punch through a wall. Every encrypted message was a needle in a haystack, but I was determined. Somewhere in this digital web, there was a trail leading back to her. And I would follow it, even if it killed me.

And through all of it, I kept thinking about Amelia. About what I could have said. What I should have said. About how I’d let the only good thing in my life walk out because I thought I was protecting her.

But maybe what she needed wasn’t protection. Maybe she just needed to be chosen. Out loud. In the light. And I had failed her. And maybe she was right, maybe it was never really about protecting her at all. Maybe it was about protecting myself, my career, my crown, my ego. Maybe I used her safety as a shield for my own cowardice, convincing myself it was noble when really it was just easier.