Chapter 39 Thirty Nine
AMELIA XAVIER
The aftermath of something usually came with full force, like something one couldn't handle. Mine came in the morning, my breast bare and the sheets scattered. My head pounded so much that my ears couldn't deny the fact that it could hear them, my body sore with wound marks on my neck. Hickey. Although I had a fucking good dream, surprisingly, I forgot about it when I opened my eyes to meet the daylight.
Scoff.
So much for ‘joy comes in the morning’
The light seeping through the slightly closed window blinded my eyes as I opened it. I shut my eyes immediately it had contact with the light, I tried my best to breathe, but I couldn't. The pounding only increased.
Why was I naked and why did my head pound this much?
The answers came as easily as reciting alphabets in school. Last night, I had drunk too much and acted like a fucker… then…
“Shit!” I cursed pushing myself out of bed. This wasn't my home. Just then, Owen came in, his hair wet and a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Good morning,” he murmured giving me a quick glance which meant I should probably put on something.
Quickly, I wrapped the duvet round my body not caring that his eyes had seen it and his hands caressed them last night.
This wasn't what I was sent to Paris to do — meeting him was going to jeopardize everything I so wanted to build.
Father would be disappointed.
“Last night was…”
“I liked it. We should do it again sometime, Amy,” he said turning to face me, while drying his hair. “I loved last night.”
I sighed shutting my eyes to ease the pounding, but it only made it worse.
This shouldn't have happened if I hadn't drank, I reprimanded myself, hating the fact that I loved it.
“Last night was a mistake, Owen-” I started, but hesitated a little, I didn't want to hurt his feelings.
“What?”
“- last night was a fucking mistake. This… Owen, this shouldn't have happened, I was drunk and… I came to Paris to…” I let my voice trail, my mind blocked from making any word sound reasonable.
Suddenly, Owen let out a laugh. It sounded more like mockery or was it just me?
“Calm down, beautiful, Paris is mostly about pleasure,” he said huskily. Before I could realize what was going on, my back was pinned to the wall, the duvet fell softly to my legs revealing my slender stature. Owen was huge.
“I'm different, Amelia,” he whispered into my ears, his voice in sync with the calm air that found its way in through the slightly closed window.
If I were still ten, I would have fallen, but this man had shut me out for eleven years and now was whispering sweet nothings into my ear — that he was different. My irritation grew.
“Says the person who left me and we met by coincidence,” I blurted out pushing him off me and searching for my actual clothes.
“It's fate, Amy, not a coincidence.”
“Then fuck fate!” I yelled enraged, and when I didn't see my clothes I took one of his big shirts and wore them storming out of the house forgetting I had to wear shoes.
I stood at the closed door, a tear ran down my cheeks. Daddy wouldn't know… he shouldn't know.
I didn't want to see Owen Winters again, but deep down, I knew I would be seeing him more often than ever.
OWEN WINTERS
Failure seemed more like an understatement to my situation. I knew so well, Amy would freak out when she woke up — something I thought I could handle.
“You're such a dick, Owen,” I muttered rubbing my forehead in annoyance.
Seeing Amy was actually a coincidence, but I didn't really know what fate had in store for us.
What was I saying?
Fuck fate.
I sat lazily on the bed my head in my hands, just then, the phone rang making me jerk up.
Picking up the phone, I looked at the caller ID… unknown number.
I knew who it was.
“Hello,” I said just for courtesy sake. “Owen, how are you doing?” The unknown number asked, a scoff escaped my lips. He was playing the same game I played. “Cut it out, Sir. I thought my missions were over, what the fuck do you want?” I asked, every muscle in my body tensed waiting to hear him out.
There was silence for what seemed like two minutes, before he spoke up. “Yes, your missions are over, Owen, just called to ask you of something.”
That never happened.
“What?” I inquired in the rudest way possible, he wasn't going to make profit off me anymore. I would never allow that.
“I heard Amelia Xavier is in Paris-” My hands curled into a fist on hearing Amy's name. What did he want from her now?
“- I know what you're thinking, what do I want with that innocent little girl now, I am right, Yes?”
Scoff.
He continued, “Well, I think it's best you avoid her, that girl means danger…”
“Emotionally, I mean,” he added and said nothing else.
My mind wandered to last night, leaving her alone for eleven years was too much, but now, I could never avoid her.
Never.
“What do you…”
“What I mean is, you're so close to taking over the Winters business fully. Sooner or later, your father would lose grip on the house and you take full responsibility. Engaging with Amelia Xavier would complicate…”
Beep. I hung up tossing the phone on the bed.
“Complicate things?” Scoff. “The only complicating things is how to make her forgive me for acting like a total dick,” I muttered, carelessly, falling to the bed.
I shut my eyes.
“Aren't you the illegitimate child of the Winters?”
“Look at that skin, contrast to his parents…”
“Heir my foot. The boy is a complicated little wench!”
The voices rang in my ear, filling my entire mind. I couldn't think.
Think.
Think, Owen.
Can't you fucking THINK!
My eyes popped open, tears at the corner threatening to slip down my face. These dreams couldn't stop coming, but I didn't want to think of that. I stood up from the bed and stared out the window.
Night.
“Fuck!” Cursing, I still had a lot of things to handle like father's sudden invitation to his welcoming- my son- back party though I knew exactly what that meant.
This was going to be a long night.