Chapter 44 Complications
AMELIA
I was reading—listening to an audiobook about a woman solving mysteries in a small town—when I heard footsteps in the hallway outside.
Heavy. Purposeful. Familiar.
Jeremy.
I paused the audiobook and stood, moving toward the door.
There was a knock on the door. "Amelia. It's Jeremy."
I unlocked the door and opened it. "You're back."
"I'm back." His voice was strained. Tired. "Can I come in?"
"Of course."
He came inside and closed the door behind him. I heard him lock it—multiple locks. There were more locks than usual.
"Is everything okay?" I asked.
"That depends. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Luca said you went out yesterday. To the park."
Oh. So that's what this was about.
"I needed air. I was careful."
"I asked you to stay inside."
"You suggested I stay inside. There's a difference." I crossed my arms. "I can't stay locked up forever, Jeremy. I'm not a prisoner."
He moved closer and said, "You're not a prisoner. You're someone under protection. There's a difference."
"Is there? Because it feels the same from where I'm standing."
He was quiet for a moment. Then I heard him move—not toward me, but toward the window. "Someone was watching this building. Taking photos. Reporting your movements."
My blood froze. "Who?"
"Private investigator hired by Victoria Castellano. My fiancée."
Fiancée. The word hit me like a physical blow.
Of course he had a fiancée. Of course. Men like Jeremy didn't stay single. Their marriages were arranged, strategic, and political.
"Why would she—"
"Our engagement is an arrangement. For family purposes. We both know it; we've both agreed to it. But she heard rumours that I was protecting someone. About you. She wanted to know if you were going to be a problem."
"A problem for what?"
"For the arrangement. For the facade we maintain." He sighed. "Victoria and I are not in love; our relationship is purely strategic." We're not even romantically involved. It's purely strategic. But it's important to both our families. And if people think I'm getting attached to someone else, if they think the engagement is compromised—"
"So I'm a threat to your political marriage."
"You're a complication. There's a difference."
I laughed—bitter, and sharp. "Everything about me is a complication, isn't it? I complicate your life, your business, your arrangements. Maybe you should have just left me in that alley."
"Don't." His voice was hard. "Don't say that."
"Why not? It's true."
"It's not—" He stopped. Started again. "The investigator won't be watching anymore. I made sure of that. And Victoria understands the situation. She won't interfere."
"What did you do?"
He did not answer my question.
"Jeremy. What did you do?" I asked again.
"I sent a message. That's all," he answered casually.
The same way he'd "sent a message" about me to Antonio. About me being under his protection.
Violence. Always violence in his world.
"I should leave," I said quietly. "Find somewhere else to go. Somewhere that doesn't complicate your life."
"No."
"Why not? You said yourself I'm a problem for your arrangement. Your fiancée is worried. Your family is asking questions. I'm causing trouble for you—"
"I don't care." The words came out harsh. Frustrated. "I don't care about the complications. I don't care about Victoria's concerns or my family's questions. I just—" He stopped.
I waited.
"I can't let you go," he said finally. Quietly. "You are vulnerable. I can't."
My heart hammered in my chest. "Jeremy—"
"I need you to stay inside. you need to remain indoors for now. Until the Victoria situation is resolved. Until I figure out—" He stopped again. "Just please. Stay inside. Be safe."
"Okay."
"Thank you."
He moved toward the door and paused. "Get some rest. Luca will bring groceries tomorrow."
"Jeremy?" I called.
"Yeah?"
"Your fiancée. Victoria. Does she—is there someone she cares about too?"
He pauses. "Yes. We both do. That's part of the arrangement. We maintain the facade publicly so we can pursue other relationships privately."
So he had someone he cared about.
And it wasn't his fiancée.
But it couldn't be me. Could it?
"That sounds complicated," I managed.
"It is. But it works. For now." He opened the door. "Get some rest, Amelia."
Then he left.
I stood alone in the apartment, my mind spinning.
He had a fiancée.
The engagement was arranged solely for political reasons.
It was designed to protect someone he cared about.
Was that person me?
Or was I just the complication getting in the way of whoever it really was?
I went to bed with more questions than answers.
About Jeremy. About Victoria. About arrangements and facades and feelings that couldn't be named.
About what it meant that he couldn't let me go even though I complicated everything.
And about the stranger from yesterday—Alex—whose voice still echoed in my mind despite everything.
Two men. Two mysteries. Two very different kinds of danger.
And I'm in the middle, not understanding any of it.
But somehow I knew that everything was about to get much more complicated.