Amara slammed the door shut behind her, her fingers trembling as she grabbed her phone. She didn't even hesitate—just scrolled straight to Mia and hit call.
It rang once. Twice.
"Girl, it's like 6AM," Mia's groggy voice croaked through the speaker.
"I don't care," Amara snapped. "You need to wake up because I'm fuming."
"Whoa, okay. What happened? Is this about the party?"
Amara dropped onto the edge of the bed, one hand rubbing her temple. "No. Yes. Everything."
"Start from the top."
She inhaled sharply. "You remember that guy—the one I told you about? The one with the stupidly intense eyes?"
"Oh, the mysterious stranger who you claim might be Cassie's man but you ended up half-naked in his bed?"
"That one," Amara groaned. "He walked into my room like he owned it. No knock. No hesitation. Just... boom. Like it was totally normal."
"Wait, wait—he came to you? After all that drama?"
Amara stood and started pacing. "Yeah. Just walked down the hall and stopped right in front of my door like he was drawn to it or something."
Mia's tone turned playful. "Okay, I'm listening."
"He said nothing at first. Just stared. Like he was trying to figure me out. Then we argued—I mean, really argued—and then…"
There was a long pause.
"Then, Amara?"
"He kissed me."
"WHAT?!"
Amara winced. "And I kissed him back."
"Oh my god."
"Then I pushed him away and told him to get out. I even threatened to sue him!"
"You're unhinged," Mia muttered, half-laughing. "Are you okay?"
"No. I'm not okay! Because I don't know if I'm more angry that he kissed me… or that I wanted him to."
Mia whistled. "Damn."
Amara sank back onto the bed, biting her lip. "I don't know what's happening to me, Mia. It's like he's crawling under my skin and I can't shake him off."
"You're in deep, girl. Whether you admit it or not."
Amara covered her face with both hands. "This is a disaster."
Mia's voice softened. "Or maybe it's just the beginning."
"I confronted him!" Amara exploded. "Told him I was suing him. That he raped me. I was livid, Mia. He didn't even flinch. He just stood there—calm, like I was being dramatic."
"Damn," Mia murmured. "And what did he say to that?"
Amara stood, pacing now. "He told me I was the one who came into his room. That I walked in, took a shower, and acted like I belonged there. And the worst part? He said he thought I was an angel waiting for him." She let out a frustrated breath. "Can you believe that?"
Mia was quiet for a moment. "...Okay, hear me out. What if he's not lying?"
"What?"
"Amara, babe, think. You were drinking. You told me the hallways in that hotel were confusing as hell. Is there even a chance... just a tiny one... that you walked into the wrong room?"
Amara sank back down, eyes wide and distant. "I—I don't know. I was tired. Tipsy. But still—he should've stopped me."
"Maybe he really didn't know either. Maybe he just thought... I don't know, fate or something ridiculous like that."
Amara scoffed. "Fate? Don't romanticize this, Mia."
"I'm not. I'm just saying... if you're this angry, this obsessed, maybe it's not just about what happened. Maybe it's about how you feel."
There was a long pause.
"I don't feel anything," Amara muttered, but her voice was thin.
"Oh honey, you've got it bad. And whether you like it or not, he's under your skin."
Amara didn't respond, just stared at the floor.
Mia's voice softened. "So what are you gonna do?"
Amara whispered, "I don't know yet. But he's not getting away with this... whatever this is."
Amara paced her room like a storm trapped in a bottle, phone pressed to her ear.
"I'm telling you, Mia, he walked in like he owned the place. And then—God, the nerve of him. Acting like I was the one who wanted it!"
Mia's voice crackled on the other end. "Amara, breathe. This sounds insane."
"I know it does! That's what's driving me mad. I feel like I'm losing it. One minute I'm yelling at him, the next I'm—" she stopped, biting her lip, voice dropping. "I kissed him, Mia. I actually kissed him."
Dead silence.
"You what?" Mia practically screeched. "Are you trying to help your case or sabotage yourself?"
Amara closed her eyes. "It wasn't supposed to happen. It just—"
Knock. Knock.
She froze mid-step.
"I gotta go," she whispered, her heart climbing into her throat.
"Who is it?" Mia asked sharply.
Amara tiptoed toward the door. Another knock. Firm. Unapologetic.
She looked through the peephole.
And her stomach dropped.
"Oh God…"
"What? Who is it?"
Amara slowly opened the door.
There she stood Cassie. Hair immaculate, lipstick flawless, confidence pouring off her like expensive perfume.
"The Queen herself," Amara muttered under her breath.
Cassie smiled coldly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.
And there she was.
Cassie.
Elegant as always, her hair pinned in effortless waves, her expression unreadable—smiling, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"Hi, darling," she said with that same sweet, venom-laced tone Amara had grown to loathe. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
Amara stepped back slightly, masking her surprise. "No... I wasn't expecting company."
Cassie stepped in anyway, eyes scanning the room like she owned the place. "Of course not. But I figured it was time we had a little heart-to-heart."
Before Amara could respond, Cassie pulled something from her purse—a white and gold envelope.
"I wanted you to have this personally." She handed it over. "My wedding invitation."
Amara blinked at it, her fingers hesitant as she took it.
Cassie didn't stop there. She placed a sleek garment bag on the bed. "And this... is your dress. I had it custom made. I want you to sit in the front row. You are important to me, after all."
Amara's mouth parted, but no words came out.
Cassie's smile widened just a bit. "You'll come, won't you?"
Amara clenched the invitation in her hand, forcing a nod. "Of course."
But inside, her blood boiled.
Because Cassie didn't just bring an invitation.
She brought a message—I win.Cassie turned toward the door, her smile sweet but deadly.
"Oh, Amara," she said over her shoulder, voice dripping with poison, "did you know someone slept with my husband on our wedding eve night?"
She paused just long enough for the words to hit like a slap.
"Funny how life works, isn't it?"
With that, she stepped out, leaving Amara standing there—speechless, furious, and more tangled than ever.Amara's eyes blazed with anger as the door clicked shut behind Cassie. She took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm inside her.
"That's low, even for you," Amara muttered, voice cold. Then, louder, she called out, "Wait! How do you know that? Who told you?"
But the hallway was silent. Cassie was gone, leaving Amara alone with the weight of those words—and a question burning hotter than ever.
Amara stood frozen for a moment, the invitation card and dress heavy in her hands. Her mind raced—who could have betrayed her like this? And why?
She sank onto the couch, clutching her phone. Her fingers trembled as she dialed Mia again, needing someone to talk to, someone to help her make sense of it all.
"Mia," Amara's voice was tight, "Cassie just left after dropping something on me... She said something about someone sleeping with her husband last night. On their wedding eve."
There was a long pause on the other end before Mia answered, her voice calm but firm.
"Amara, this is bigger than we thought. You need to be careful. This isn't just about Ethan anymore."
Amara swallowed hard, feeling the walls close in. "I don't know what to do next."
"Start by staying alert. And remember, I'm here. Whatever happens, you won't face this alone."
As Amara ended the call, a new resolve settled inside her. Whatever this tangled mess was, she was ready to fight.
Amara pushed open the heavy wooden door of the country bar, a warm glow spilling out to welcome her into the quiet refuge. The low hum of soft music and murmured conversations wrapped around her like a blanket. She sighed, sliding onto a worn leather stool at the far end of the bar.
The bartender gave her a knowing nod. "Rough night?"
She nodded, tracing the rim of her glass. "You could say that."
Amara took a slow sip of her drink, letting the burn settle in her chest. Her mind raced with images of Ethan, Cassie's sharp words, and the impossible tangled web she was caught in. She wanted to escape it all, even if just for a moment.
Across the room, laughter erupted from a small group. A familiar voice caught her attention — someone mentioning Ethan's name. Amara stiffened, her heart pounding.
She leaned closer, trying not to be obvious, as the conversation floated over.
"You really think Amara knows what happened last night?" a man said, his voice low.
"Not a chance," a woman replied. "She's too stubborn to see the truth."
Amara swallowed hard. What truth? What were they hiding?
Suddenly, a shadow fell over her stool.
"Mind if I join you?" the voice said.
Amara looked up, startled. Standing there was a stranger calm, steady eyes, but with something familiar she couldn't place.
Amara hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Sure. I guess I could use the company."
He slid onto the stool beside her, ordering a drink without breaking eye contact.
"I'm Liam," he said simply.
"Amara," she replied, trying to keep her guard up.
Liam studied her for a moment. "You look like someone carrying a heavy burden."
Amara forced a bitter smile. "You could say that. Life's been... complicated lately."
He nodded knowingly. "Sometimes the hardest battles are the ones we fight inside."
Amara's eyes narrowed. "Do you know something about me?"
Liam shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just a stranger who's been watching."
She chuckled softly, the tension easing just a bit. "Well, stranger, I'm not sure if that's comforting or creepy."
He smiled—a real, warm smile. "Maybe a little bit of both."
As the night wore on, Amara found herself opening up, telling Liam pieces of her story she hadn't shared with anyone else. And in that quiet corner of the country bar, a fragile trust began to form.
But outside, shadows stirred. Someone was watching. And the game was far from over.
Liam took a slow sip of his drink, then looked at Amara with curious eyes.
"So, what brought you out here tonight?" he asked gently.
Amara shrugged, staring into her glass. "Needed to get away. Clear my head."
Liam nodded. "Sometimes, a change of scenery helps. The quiet, the fresh air..."
She smiled faintly. "Yeah. It's peaceful here. Different from the chaos back at the hotel."
He leaned in a little. "Chaos can teach us things. Sometimes about who we really are."
Amara met his gaze, surprised by how easy it was to talk to him. "Maybe. Or it just wears you down."
Liam smiled softly. "Maybe a bit of both. But you seem stronger than you think."For a moment, Amara let herself believe it.
Liam smiled, his eyes warm. "So, what do you do when you're not running from chaos?"
Amara chuckled softly. "I wish it was just running. Sometimes I feel like I'm stuck in it. But I write—journals, poems, little stories. Helps me make sense of everything."
"That's impressive," Liam said, leaning back. "I'm more of a 'live in the moment' kind of guy. Hard to think ahead when life keeps throwing surprises."
Amara looked up at him. "And what kind of surprises has life thrown at you?"
He paused, then shrugged. "A few good ones, some bad. But I'm here, so I guess I'm still standing."
She smiled genuinely for the first time that night. "That's what matters. Standing."
There was a comfortable silence as they both sipped their drinks.
Liam's voice dropped a little. "You look like someone who's been through a lot, Amara."
She glanced away, voice quieter. "Maybe more than I let on."
He nodded understandingly. "Sometimes, it's easier to carry the weight alone. But it doesn't mean you have to."
Amara's eyes met his again, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them.
Then, just as the moment seemed to deepen, the door creaked open and a sudden chill broke the spell.
The music dimmed slightly as the door to the country pub swung open.
All eyes turned toward the newcomer.
Ethan stepped inside, his tall frame cutting through the crowd like a shadow. His dark hair tousled perfectly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. The room seemed to hush, the air thickening with tension.
Amara's gaze locked onto him.
She couldn't help but notice how striking he looked—the sharp line of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes, the quiet confidence that seemed to pull everyone's attention.
For a moment, time slowed.
Then Liam nudged her gently. "Hey, you okay? You've been staring."
Amara blinked, shaking herself from the daze. "Yeah… just caught off guard."
Her heart pounded as Ethan made his way to the bar, unaware—or maybe purposely ignoring—her presence.
As Ethan ordered his drink, his eyes briefly met Amara's—cold, unreadable.
Then, without a word, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded envelope.
He slid it across the bar to the bartender with a quiet command.
Amara's heart skipped.
Because that envelope wasn't meant for anyone else.It was addressed to her.
Amara's fingers trembled as she reached for the envelope, heart pounding with questions. What was inside? Why now? And what did he want from her this time?