Chapter 72 Independent
AMELIA
I got back to the estate at 3:30pm.
Luca was waiting at the entrance, looking concerned.
"Boss was looking for you. Where were you?"
"With Elena. We had coffee. Lost track of time." The lie came easier the second time.
"Okay. He's in his office. He seemed stressed when I talked to him an hour ago."
"Is he okay?"
"I'm not sure. You should check on him."
I made my way to Jeremy's office. Knocked.
"Come in."
I opened the door. "Jeremy? Are you okay? Luca said you seemed stressed."
"I'm fine. Just—" I heard him stand. Move toward me. "How was your time with Elena?"
The lie was getting harder. "Good. We had coffee. Talked. It was nice."
"Good. I'm glad." His arms wrapped around me. Held tight. "I'm glad you have her; you deserve someone normal."
My chest ached. Because he was holding me while I lied to him.
While I betrayed his trust.
While I spent time with his enemy.
"Jeremy? What happened today? You seem—tense."
"Victoria came by. She—" He stopped. "She wanted to make our engagement real. She mentioned that she had broken up with Matteo.
My stomach dropped. "What did you tell her?"
"I told her no. Told her I found someone I actually want. I assured her that I would dissolve the arrangement before abandoning you.
His arms tightened around me.
"You told her about me?"
"I didn't mention your name or any specific details, but I did tell her that I'm serious about someone and that I'm not settling for convenience when I have something real."
I should feel pleased and triumphant. He'd chosen me over Victoria.
Instead, I felt guilty. Because he was fighting for me while I was lying to him.
"Thank you," I whispered. "For choosing me."
"Always." He pulled back slightly. "Are you hungry? Want dinner?"
"Yes. But Jeremy—"I stopped. I should tell him. Should confess about Alex. About the shooting lessons. About the lies.
"What is it?"
"Nothing. Just—I love you."
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Silence.
Then: "Say that again." He said.
"I love you." Louder this time. Clearer. "I love you, Jeremy."
His mouth found mine. Desperate, and claiming. He poured all his emotions into the kiss.
"I love you too," he breathed against my lips. "God, Amelia. I love you too."
We stood there in his office, holding each other, saying the words we'd been too scared to say.
And I tried to ignore the guilt.
I made an effort to ignore the realisation that I was lying.
I tried to ignore that tomorrow, I'd probably do it again.
The morning after we'd said "I love you", I woke up with Jeremy's arm across my waist and a sense of peace.
Despite the lies. Despite the guilt. Despite everything.
He loved me. And I loved him.
We'd figure out the rest.
I carefully extracted myself from his embrace and felt my way to my room to get dressed. It was still early—barely 7am—and Jeremy would sleep for another hour at least.
While I was in my room, I remembered the envelope I'd hidden in my dresser drawer.
My money.
It contained all the cash I had earned over the past few weeks. My salary from Jeremy. I had saved the tips from Crimson before things went awry.
I pulled out the envelope and felt its thickness. I sat on my bed and meticulously counted the bills by touch.
Twenties. Fifties. Some hundreds.
I counted twice to be sure.
I counted from three thousand to four hundred dollars.
I'd never had this much money in my life. I had never had anything remotely comparable to it.
At St Mary's, I'd had nothing. On the streets, I'd had nothing. At Crimson, I'd earned tips, but they'd gone to basic necessities—food, supplies, and the little things Marco didn't provide.
But now.
Now I had three thousand four hundred dollars. Money I'd earned. Money that was mine.
I had no place to store it.
I couldn't just keep it in an envelope in my dresser. That was unsafe. What if something happened? What if there was a fire? What if someone stole it?
I needed a bank account.
The realisation hit me like cold water. I'd never had a bank account before. I had no idea how to open one. Didn't even know if I could open one without—what? ID? Proof of address? Things I didn't have.
I put the money back in the envelope, tucked it in my drawer, and went to the kitchen to make coffee.
Jeremy appeared twenty minutes later, with his hair messy, still in sleep pants, and without a shirt.
"Morning," he said, wrapping his arms around me from behind. "You're up early."
"Couldn't sleep." I leaned back against him. "Jeremy, can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"I need help opening a bank account."
He was quiet for a moment. "A bank account?"
"Yes. I've been saving my salary. And I still have tips from Crimson. But I—I don't have anywhere safe to keep it. And I don't know how to open an account. "I don't have proper ID," I said, pausing. "Can you help me?"
His arms tightened around me. "Of course I can help you. How much have you saved?"
"A little over three thousand dollars."
"That's..." He sounded impressed. "That's really good, Amelia. You should be proud."
"I am. I just—I want to keep it safe. Does that make sense?
"Perfect sense." He kissed the top of my head. "When do you want to go? I can take you this afternoon—"
"Today? Could we go today?"
"Actually—" He paused. "I have a meeting this morning with a new business alliance that I can't reschedule. This is an important business matter, and the Morano family has a reputation for being tough when it comes to business matters. But I can have Luca take you. If that's okay?"
"What kind of meeting?"
"Just the usual business. Nothing you need to worry about." His voice was careful. Guarded. "But Luca can take you to the bank and help you set everything up. Is that okay?"
It had to be okay. I needed this done. I required a safe place to store my money.
"Yes. That's fine. Thank you."
"I'll talk to Luca. Have him take you first thing—say, nine-thirty? That gives you time to get ready."
"Perfect."
He released me and moved to pour his coffee. "Amelia? I'm proud of you. For saving. For wanting independence. For—" He stopped. "For being you."
My chest warmed. "Thank you."
"And tonight, when I'm back from my meeting, we should celebrate. Having your first bank account is truly significant.
"It is, isn't it?" I smiled. "I've never had one before. I've never possessed sufficient funds to require one."
"Well, now you do. And it's all yours. Your money. Your account. Your independence." He kissed my cheek. "I'll go talk to Luca. You get ready."
He left.
And I stood there in the kitchen, feeling accomplished like a proper adult.
I was opening a bank account. With money I'd earned. Money that was mine.
It felt good.
Really good.