Chapter 98 The Big Move
AMELIA
The taxi dropped me at the estate gates just before five. I slipped inside, made my way to the east wing, and closed myself in my room.
But the satisfaction I'd felt after meeting Elena was already fading. Replaced by something darker and reckless.
Martial arts training would help. The gun was insurance. But neither solved the fundamental problem.
I was completely dependent on Jeremy. For money, shelter, safety and everything.
If Antonio came back—if he decided to take me again—what could I do? If Jade succeeded in whatever scheme she was plotting, if she convinced Jeremy I wasn't worth the trouble, where would I go?
I had five thousand dollars. Enough for a few months of rent somewhere.
But not enough to thrive. Not enough to build something real. But not enough to create the kind of independence that meant I'd never be helpless again.
I needed more. Needed resources to build my own empire—small as it might be.
I needed to stop relying on Jeremy for everything. Before his protection became another cage.
But how? How did someone with no connections, no family, and no skills beyond basic household work build anything substantial?
The answer came slowly. Uncomfortably.
I had one asset. One thing men wanted that I could provide.
Myself.
Not as prostitution. I will not sell my body on street corners or through escort services.
But it will be a strategic use. I leveraged what I had to achieve what I needed.
Jeremy wanted me; he even loved me. Despite being frustrated. Despite the lies. Despite everything.
And men who wanted things could be convinced to pay for them.
The thought made my stomach turn. Using sex as currency. The idea of manipulating Jeremy's feelings for financial gain was unsettling.
But was it really manipulation, if I wanted him as well? If the intimacy were real, even if the motivation wasn't pure?
I didn't know. Didn't want to examine it too closely.
All I knew was that I needed money. Needed resources. I needed insurance for the day when Jeremy's protection wouldn't be enough or would no longer be available.
And I'd do what I had to do to obtain it.
8:47 PM
Jeremy had texted hours ago: I am working late. Don't wait up.
Translation: Still angry. Still avoiding me. He is still digesting the consequences of my actions.
Fine. Let him process. Let him stay angry.
Tonight, I'd remind him what he'd be losing if he pushed me away.
I had dinner alone. After showering, I stood in my room wrapped in a towel.
I would rather not touch my savings. The money in my account was for emergencies. For escape and survival.
What I needed now was additional income. A cushion. Something extra that would not deplete my safety net.
And Jeremy—Jeremy could provide that. If I asked the right way. If I gave him the right incentive.
I laughed at myself. I was amazed at the person I was turning into.
A month ago, I'd been terrified of him. Dependent on him. Grateful for scraps of kindness.
Now I was planning to seduce him for money like some kind of—
No. Not like that. This was different. Strategic. Survival.
I went to my closet. Felt through the clothes Jeremy's staff had provided. Simple dresses. Practical pants. Nothing remotely seductive.
I needed lingerie. Silk. Lace. The kind of thing that made men forget to think clearly.
But I didn't have any. And I couldn't exactly order it without Jeremy finding out.
I stood there for a moment. Thinking.
Then stripped off the towel. Put on just my underwear—plain cotton—and grabbed my silk dressing gown. The one piece of luxury clothing I owned.
It would have to do.
I pulled out my phone. Texted Luca: When is Jeremy coming back?
His response came quickly: Just left the office. Ten minutes out.
Perfect.
I finished preparing. Checked myself in the mirror; I couldn't see. Made sure the dressing gown was tied loose enough to suggest without revealing. I made sure my hair was down. Made sure I looked—accessible.
Then I slipped out of my room. Down the hallway. Into Jeremy's bedroom.
The bed was made. I climbed onto it. Positioned myself on top of the covers. Arranged the dressing gown strategically.
JEREMY
I was exhausted. Three meetings. Two conference calls. Four hours of negotiations with suppliers who kept trying to shortchange us on quality.
All of it a welcome distraction from thinking about Amelia. About her meeting with Alexei Volkov. About the lies. About whether I could trust her again.
I pulled into the estate. I took a moment to relax in the car.
She'd be asleep by now. Or in her room. I wouldn't have to face her. Wouldn't have to decide what came next.
I grabbed my laptop bag and headed inside. To the east wing. I went to the small dining table to finish reviewing contracts before bed.
Set up my laptop. Opened files and tried to focus.
But my mind kept drifting. To the bedroom. I wanted to see whether Amelia was really asleep or lying awake worrying like I was.
To whether we could fix our relationship. Whether trust once broken could be rebuilt.
I forced my attention back to the contract. Read the same paragraph three times without absorbing it.
The effort was useless. I needed the supplier folders. The ones with original agreements and pricing structures. They were in my bedroom. In the filing cabinet beside my desk.
"Luca!" I called out.
He appeared from the security room. "Yeah, boss?"
"I need files from my bedroom. Supplier contracts. It should be in the cabinet by my desk. Blue folders."
"You want me to get them?"
"Unless you want me to go. Either way, I need them now."
"I'll get them." He headed down the hallway.
I turned back to the laptop. I began reviewing the next section.
This deal needed to close by Friday. No delays.
I had enough complications already.
LUCA
I walked down the hallway to Jeremy's bedroom. Knocked out of habit even though he wasn't inside.
No answer. Obviously.
I opened the door. Stepped inside. Headed toward the desk and filing cabinet.
Blue folders. Supplier contracts. Should be easy to—
Then I noticed a movement on the bed. I turned.
And froze.