Chapter 142 Rachel Is Playing with Fire
The thought of titles and formalities hit Amelia like a sudden chill. For the first time, she realized Michael's position was far more awkward than she had ever allowed herself to see.
Every time he called, it had to be when she was alone in her room, no one else around to overhear. Every time he came to see her, it was under cover of night, scaling the garden wall and slipping in without a sound.
And then, in the muted glow of the lamp, she would pull him into her world, testing the limits of his patience until his voice turned hoarse… and still he endured, waiting for dawn to leave alone.
It was the kind of scene that carried the weight of secrecy, the intimacy of a rendezvous no one else could know about… almost as if he came only for her.
Well, not entirely alone. Eric was always there, ferrying him back and forth. Eric's role was almost absurd in its precision—like some old-world coachman tasked with transporting the king's most discreet envoy. Only in this case, the carriage was a sleek black luxury sedan.
Amelia had never tried to hide Michael from the world. But here, his name and his standing were too conspicuous to ignore. If their relationship became public, it would draw attention she didn't want—and trouble she couldn't afford. And no matter what kind of man Michael truly was, her brothers would never rest easy until they had torn him apart with their own scrutiny. Until then, they would keep her on a tighter leash.
Still, part of her knew it was inevitable. Sooner or later, her brothers would find out. Sooner or later, she would have to face them.
After those stolen minutes together in the storage room, the outside world seemed to explode. Social media lit up like it had been set on fire. Hashtags about Michael surged to the top of trending lists in seconds.
#Michael First Appearance
#Michael Is Gorgeous
#Michael Can Walk
#Michael Is Not A Scandal
#Stop Lying About Michael
It was like watching an entire nation rush to correct the record. Photos of Michael—full face, profile, even candid shots—were shared and reposted like prized collectibles. Some people set them as their phone wallpapers without hesitation.
For the first time, Michael had stepped into the spotlight himself, and the rumors that had shadowed him for years evaporated. He didn't have his own account, but the official Instagram of The Johnson Group was flooded with comments. And among all the shock of his first public appearance, one line from him stole the breath of thousands: “I like Amelia.”
Because, after all, how many girls had dreamed of marrying a domineering CEO? In reality, most CEOs were middle-aged, balding, and carried more around the waist than in the bank. But Michael stood there—a man with a fortune in the billions, cold-edged beauty, and the kind of presence that made the air around him feel sharper.
Yet just as hearts were racing, he broke them. He said, in front of everyone, that the person he liked was Amelia.
No one outside knew the truth—that for ten years, Michael's legs had truly been useless, and it was Amelia who had given him back the ability to walk. So the backlash began. People attacked Amelia, claiming she wasn't worthy of him simply because she was illegitimate. At the core, it was all the same poison—envy, resentment, the bitter question of why she was the one Michael wanted instead of them.
Some even went to the official account to spit their hate, saying Amelia stood there like some untouchable aristocrat when in reality she was nothing but a low-born outsider.
The counterattack was swift.
[Do you really think love happens just by looking at someone's face? Maybe think before you type. Did no one watch last week's piano competition?]
[Amelia said on stage that her piece "Mich Drowning" had the name of the person she loved hidden in it. That song was for him.]
[This is mutual, okay?]
[And maybe get the whole story before you choke on your jealousy: Amelia is the top student at Prestige High School, the national champion in piano, and she's Rosy—yes, the Rosy with fans all over the world.]
[Aside from the circumstances of her birth, she's beautiful, brilliant, and talented. How exactly is she not good enough for Michael? People who only know how to inflate men and tear down women can get lost.]
The roar online was the aftermath of the fair. Right now, Amelia's dessert booth was the true epicenter of the evening.
The live stream looked like a page torn from a magazine—faces so perfect they didn't seem real, boys and girls gathered together, and Ryan himself in the middle of it all. Half the school had poured in, drawn by the sight.
The cookies and biscuits they had prepared vanished in minutes. Outside, the line wrapped around the track more than once. Some had come straight from Rachel's café, abandoning their cappuccinos for something sweeter.
One girl, a regular at Rachel's, took a bite of Amelia's cookie and froze, her eyes going wide. She had expected nothing special. Instead, it was so good it almost hurt.
Michael was in the kitchen beside Amelia, baking egg tarts without a care for the fine flour dusting his shirt—a shirt that probably cost more than most people's rent. Dorian and Belle were working on cookies, but the rush was too much, and soon Kevin and Chris joined in.
The moment Kevin stepped in, Michael and Amelia were separated by a clean three meters. Same kitchen, but it might as well have been two different continents.
At its peak, the crowd spilled over the field. Those without seats simply sat on the grass. Ryan's fans were well-behaved—no shoving, no littering. Sophie's sponsorship of ten thousand bottles of drinks finally paid off, with Asher, Leroy, Zander, and Tobias weaving through the crowd to hand them out.
Desserts were running out, but no one seemed to care anymore. They had seen their idols, been served by men whose faces could stop traffic, and soaked in the atmosphere. That alone made it worth the trip.
Then, as the crowd settled on the grass, Ryan pulled out his guitar. He took the high stool in front of the dessert booth and began to play the lead track from his new album.
The first note fell and the world seemed to hold its breath. Ryan was born for the stage—his looks, his presence, his voice, all impossibly perfect. The song was a gentle, clear love ballad, and it made the girls in the front row blink back tears.
Within minutes, Instagram, TikTok, and every chat feed lit up again. Some praised the song, some the fair itself, some the beauty and taste of the dessert booth. And many added one more tag: #ThankYouAmelia.
Because Ryan had come to Prestige High School for her. Because he sang for her. Because even The Martinez family's five devastatingly handsome brothers were there for her.
Meanwhile, the more alive Amelia's booth became, the more Rachel's café sank into silence. Silence wasn't even the word—it was desolate. Aside from Rachel and her handful of companions, there wasn't a single customer.
Yvette, hearing Ryan was at Amelia's, rushed over only to find the crowd impenetrable. She couldn't even get onto the field, and the frustration nearly drove her mad. Anna heard Michael had gone to see Amelia, and her face went cold before she walked out without a word.
In the empty café, Rachel stared at her phone, watching the live stream's chaos with red-rimmed eyes.
She opened TikTok and saw Ryan in Angela's live, heard the words he spoke, and her whole body trembled. Disbelief and a raw, burning hatred flooded her.
Why could Ryan walk into Prestige High School without a scratch? Why was he so cold to her? Why did he clear Amelia's name in front of the entire internet, grinding her own face into the dirt?
Why did Amelia seem to do nothing at all and yet hold the whole world in her hands?
Blood didn't bind Rachel to anyone here. No matter how hard she tried, she was always the outsider. Amelia, even as an illegitimate daughter, was loved and protected by the Martinez brothers.
It was… unbearable. No one cared about how she felt.
Hatred swelled inside her, hot and choking. And then, from somewhere deep in her chest, a thought rose—a plan. She would do something that would destroy Amelia. Something that would make Ryan and every member of The Martinez family pay.