Chapter 80 40.16-Inch Chest Muscles Are the Best
"Miss Martinez."
Amelia had somehow wandered into the study and overheard Eric's conversation. Eric took a deep breath, feeling uneasy.
The things people said online were brutal. If Amelia saw them, she'd definitely be upset.
Michael stood up and casually slipped Eric's phone into his pants pocket, acting like he hadn't seen any photos at all.
"Why'd you come over here barefoot?"
Tall and imposing, Michael walked over to Amelia, his tone gentle despite his words. He bent down and picked her up, cradling her in his arms. "Eric, grab her some slippers."
"Got it," Eric replied quickly, leaving the study.
As Michael carried Amelia to the couch, she reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone. "Let me see. What's going on?"
The phone screen was still unlocked, showing the Instagram post from the gossip account. Amelia immediately saw the photo of her and Osborne at the hotel front desk.
Someone had taken a photo of her that night?
Amelia's eyes darkened.
Just as she was about to scroll through the comments, Michael smoothly took the phone from her hand.
"Don't look at that. I'll take care of it," Michael said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Are you still tired? If you are, just rest here for a bit. I'll hold you."
Amelia paused, looking at Michael.
"Aren't you curious about the guy with me at the hotel?"
Michael, being in a high position, naturally had a strong sense of control and possessiveness. She wasn't sure if this would bother him.
"It doesn't matter. He's probably a friend of yours," Michael said thoughtfully. "Maybe a friend from out of town, and you were helping him check in."
A teenage Amelia being friends with a man in his forties might sound odd, but Michael's tone was calm and confident, showing he never doubted her for a second.
"Yeah, he's a friend," Amelia confirmed. "He had an issue with his hotel registration, so I went to help him sort it out."
She took the phone from Michael again.
This time, Michael didn't stop her from reading the comments. From her composed demeanor, he could tell she was stronger than he had imagined.
"Do you need me to do anything?" Michael asked from the side.
He didn't press Amelia for more details about her friend. He respected her independence and her social circles. If she didn't want him involved, he wouldn't interfere.
Amelia read through the top comments, which were filled with insults, her expression growing increasingly calm, even tinged with a hint of mockery.
The photo had been taken days ago but was only posted now, right after the piano competition results were announced. The timing and the nature of the comments made it clear that someone was trying to sabotage her.
But whoever was behind this was incredibly foolish, digging their own grave.
"No, I can handle this," Amelia said, turning off the phone. "Besides, what people say online doesn't affect me. I don't care about the opinions of those who have no judgment and dirty minds."
Seeing her so resolute, Michael's gaze softened, filled with admiration.
He loved seeing her so confident and in control. He wanted his Amelia to always do what she wanted without fear.
People grow stronger through challenges, and his role was to stand by her side, ready to support her whenever she needed.
"Where's the piano in the house?" Amelia asked, shifting the topic.
"On the top floor," Michael replied. "Do you want to play? I'll go with you."
"I need to write a new piece for the piano competition the day after tomorrow," Amelia explained. "I don't have a piano at The Martinez Mansion, so I came here."
"So you came for the piano," Michael said, a slight smile playing on his lips. He gently brushed her earlobe with his thumb. "I thought you came because you missed me."
Seeing the usually composed and stern Michael act a bit playful made Amelia's heart soften.
"Silly," Amelia said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "If I came just for the piano, I would've mentioned it sooner."
They were always close, their breaths mingling. Amelia's scent had mixed with Michael's subtle cologne, a fragrance she found intoxicating.
"By the way, when are you working out today? You promised I could watch and learn. Don't forget."
Amelia's tone was serious, but her actions were bold. As she spoke, her hand slipped under Michael's dark gray shirt, tracing his defined abs and moving upwards, stopping at the most muscular part.
"What's your chest measurement?" Amelia asked casually, her fingers gently squeezing. "Have you measured it?"
"Forty inches," Michael's voice was husky, his head tilting back, his Adam's apple prominent.
Amelia's cool fingers seemed to ignite a fire on his skin wherever they touched.
"Forty inches is perfect," Amelia said with a smile, leaning close to his ear. "I love it."
Her warm breath tickled his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Michael took a deep breath, quickly lifting Amelia off his lap.
"I need to go to the bathroom."
Michael's attempt to maintain composure was evident, but his body betrayed his words.
Watching him leave in a hurry, Amelia's lips curved into a smile.
Michael opened the door and found Eric kneeling with a pair of slippers, unsure whether to knock or wait outside.
The study's soundproofing wasn't great, and Eric had clearly heard their conversation. He stood up, avoiding Michael's gaze. "Mr. Johnson..."
"Bring the slippers to her," Michael said, taking a deep breath. "Also, have some afternoon tea prepared and brought to the top floor. She'll be hungry when she wakes up."
"Yes, Mr. Johnson," Eric replied immediately.
As Michael walked away, Eric's gaze held a rare hint of sympathy.
There were still a few months until Amelia turned eighteen. Even then, Michael would likely continue to restrain himself. Eric saw it as a sweet torment, but a torment nonetheless.