Chapter 144 What No One Saw Coming
Michael had always understood her tastes. He liked to slip small surprises into the rhythm of her days, the kind that felt effortless yet carried thought.
So when Amelia found the dress waiting for her, she barely hesitated. She took a quick shower, steam curling in the bathroom, and emerged with damp hair clinging to her neck. Minutes later, she was stepping into the wine-red fabric.
To match the dress, she kept her makeup soft and understated, a faint glow brushing her cheeks. She fastened the pearl earrings Michael had given her months ago, their cool weight familiar against her skin, then opened the bedroom door.
The hum of voices met her immediately. The living room was already alive with conversation. Asher and Dorian stood together, trading easy words with Zander and Tobias.
On the sofa, Rachel leaned close to a young woman, speaking in a low, conspiratorial tone. Amelia's gaze caught on the stranger's face—familiar from countless social media posts. Yvette. That had to be Rachel's doing.
What struck Amelia wasn't Yvette's presence, but Rachel's reaction. When Rachel's eyes lifted to her, there was no trace of the guarded hostility Amelia had come to expect. Instead, her expression lit with something dangerously close to excitement, a spark she didn't bother hiding.
Amelia's brow tightened. She didn't know what Rachel was plotting, and she didn't care enough to guess.
She moved into the room. Dorian's eyes found her first, and his surprise was written plainly across his face.
Amelia was used to being seen in uniform. On weekends, she favored T-shirts and shorts—clothes that spoke of comfort, not display.
Now, her long black hair was swept up, a few loose curls framing her face. The pearls drew the eye to her delicate jawline. The square neckline of the dress traced the line of her shoulders and collarbone, pale skin catching the warm light. The fitted waist hinted at an elegance she rarely showed. Her expression was relaxed, but it didn't soften the impact. She was impossible not to look at.
"God, Amelia, you look stunning tonight." Dorian stepped forward, then laughed softly. "No, that's not right. You've always been beautiful… but this dress makes you shine even more."
Zander and Tobias clearly agreed, though they kept their thoughts to themselves.
Chris appeared at the top of the stairs. He paused mid-step, his eyes narrowing slightly as they landed on her.
"What is it, Chris?" Amelia glanced down at herself, puzzled. "Is something wrong?"
His brows drew together, a flicker of thought crossing his face. Before he could answer, Ryan's voice cut in from behind him.
"No surprise there… my sister could walk straight into a debut with just a little effort." Ryan's smile was easy as he crossed the room, ruffling her hair.
Tonight, Ryan wore a lightweight white knit sweater and casual trousers. His hair was slightly tousled, and the blue diamond stud in his right ear caught the light when he moved. Even in relaxed clothes, he drew attention without trying.
Chris's gaze shifted to Ryan, and whatever tension had been in his shoulders eased.
When Amelia asked again, he shook his head. "It's nothing. Just reminded me of something."
His voice was calm, but his eyes moved toward Kevin, who was speaking into his phone near the hall. Then back to Amelia. "Mr. Johnson isn't here yet?"
The mention of Michael made Amelia pause. He should have been early, given how much he cared about tonight.
She reached for her phone, then remembered she'd left it in her room. Retrieving it, she noticed the screen was still on silent. From the moment she'd stepped into the shower until now, Michael had called dozens of times.
Her stomach dropped.
She called him back immediately. The line clicked, then a cold automated voice answered: "Sorry, the number you have dialed is switched off."
Hanging up, she opened WhatsApp. His messages waited.
[Amelia, I've called you so many times and you didn't pick up. By the time you see this, I might already be on the plane.]
[Something's happened. I can't make it tonight. I was on my way, but half an hour ago I got a call from my grandmother's nursing home. She's gone missing.]
[You know she has Alzheimer's. She's been in care overseas for years. Now they have no idea where she is, and I have to handle this myself.]
[I've already apologized to Kevin. Once I find her and make sure she's safe, I'll come back as soon as I can.]
[If anything comes up while I'm gone, go to Eric. He'll help you.]
Michael's grandmother… missing.
Amelia stared at the words, trying to process them. She knew his history—his grandfather gone more than a decade, his parents lost in a car crash. Aside from an uncle who had once tried to kill him, his grandmother was his only family. If something happened to her, there was no question he would drop everything.
But she was in her seventies, frail, and living with Alzheimer's. How could she vanish from a nursing home? How could an elderly woman, dependent on constant care, slip away under the eyes of trained staff?
Amelia dialed Eric without hesitation. He gave her Michael's flight number and the address of the nursing home.
She hadn't even replied to Michael yet when chaos erupted from the living room—a sharp, explosive sound, like something shattering under force.
The lights died instantly. Darkness swallowed the space. From outside came a scream, high-pitched and raw with panic.
"My face! My face is cut!" The voice was unmistakable. Yvette.
"Asher" called out, his tone urgent. "Did the chandelier blow?"
Dorian's voice followed. "Looks like the whole place lost power… short circuit?"
"Why would the chandelier explode?" Kevin's voice cut through the confusion. "Orla, get the emergency lights!"
The room was a tangle of voices and movement. Amelia pushed open her door, stepping into the dark hall. The living room was black, shapes shifting in the shadows. She pulled out her phone, the flashlight beam cutting across the chaos.
Shards of crystal littered the floor, glittering in the narrow cone of light. The chandelier lay in ruin, its frame twisted and broken.
Her breath caught. The beam swept across the room and froze.
Under the wreckage, Zander stood rigid, his skin pale in the dim glow. The black shirt he wore made the blood stark against it. His right hand pressed to his neck, blood seeping between his fingers. His knuckles trembled… but his eyes were locked on something Amelia couldn't yet see.