Chapter 103 Chapter 103
Chapter 103
Sunday morning found Sam Keystone in his usual spot kitchen counter, black coffee in hand, scrolling through emails he didn’t really need to read. The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the fridge and the occasional car passing outside. When his phone buzzed again, he almost ignored it. Almost.
Amelia Monroe.
This woman again.
He set the mug down harder than he meant to.
The message was short.
Sam, please. I need to talk. Just once. For old times’ sake.
He stared at the words like they might change if he looked long enough. They didn’t.
A second message came through before he could decide what to do.
It’s about Ethan.
Sam let out a slow breath, rubbed his eyes, and typed back.
Sam had spent enough years watching Amelia twist situations to know nothing with her was ever simple. She didn’t ask unless she wanted something.
And whatever she wanted usually came with damage
Where?
The reply arrived in seconds. A restaurant name he recognized one of those Monterey spots with valet parking and waiters who remembered your name even if you’d only been once. Private booths. Dim enough to feel intimate, bright enough to see the other person’s face clearly.
Sam cursed under his breath, rubbed his face, then typed.
He locked the phone and muttered, “This is going to be a mistake.”“I already regret this,” he added.
He went anyway.
The restaurant smelled like money the moment he stepped inside fresh bread, expensive cologne, the faint citrus of whatever polish they used on the wood. Soft jazz played low. Tables were spaced far enough apart that conversations stayed private unless someone really tried to listen.
Amelia was already seated near the window. She saw him before he saw her. Stood up smooth, dress clinging in all the right places, hair falling exactly where it was supposed to. She looked different. Fuller in the hips, sharper in the cheekbones. Like she’d spent the last few months deciding exactly how she wanted to be seen.
“Sam,” she said, voice warm, smile wide. “Thank you for coming.”
He didn’t smile back. Just nodded once and took the seat across from her.
“You said it was important,” he started. “So let’s get to it.”
She laughed softly, sitting again. “Still no small talk. I like that about you.”
Sam didn’t answer. Just waited.
She leaned forward a little. “You were in France.”
“Business trip,” he said. “Family stuff.”
“And Ethan?” she asked, casual. “How’s he doing these days?”
Sam’s jaw tightened. “Why am I here, Amelia?”
She tilted her head. “Because you’re his best friend. Always have been.”
“That’s exactly why I shouldn’t be talking to you about him.”
Her smile faded a fraction. “So there is someone.”
Sam leaned back in his chair. “You don’t get to fish for information.”
“Oh come on,” she said. “We grew up together. The three of us. You, me, Ethan. You remember how close we were.”
“I remember Ethan cutting you off,” Sam said evenly. “And I remember why.”
Amelia’s eyes narrowed. “I left for London. I had reasons.”
“ You vanished,” he corrected. “No call. No note. Nothing .”
“ I was young. ”
“ He was too. ”
She looked away for a second, then back. “And now he’s hiding someone in his office? Some assistant?”
Sam’s hand came down on the table not loud, just firm enough to make the silverware rattle once.
“ Careful ,” he said.
Amelia didn’t flinch. “So it’s true.”
Sam stood up. “This was a mistake.”
She laughed, low and mocking. “You’re really going to protect him like this? Or is it her you’re protecting?”
He looked down at her. “You don’t love Ethan. You love winning.”
Her smile disappeared. “I loved him first.”
“You don’t own someone because you knew them longer.”
She stood too, stepping closer. Close enough that he could smell her perfume—something expensive and sharp. She turned slightly, letting the light catch the curve of her body, like she was reminding him what she looked like.
“Look at me, Sam,” she said quietly. “Do you really think Ethan would pick some quiet little office girl over this?”
Sam gave a short, dry laugh. “That right there is why you’ll never understand him.”
Her face hardened. “Tell me who she is.”
“No.”
“Tell me.”
“I said no.”
She stepped back, arms crossing tight. “You think you can talk to me like that?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “Because unlike Ethan, I’m not afraid of you.”
The words landed. She flinched—just a flicker, but he saw it.
“He belongs with me,” she said. “We were always going to end up together.”
“Ethan walked away,” Sam replied. “And you should’ve stayed gone.”
Silence hung between them. Heavy. Ugly.
She broke it. “ If you care about him, you’ll tell him to end whatever this is before it gets messy. ”
“I care about him enough to tell you to stay the hell away .”
Her lips curled. “You think this stops here?”
Sam picked up his jacket from the back of the chair. “For me it does.”
He turned to leave, then stopped. Looked back at her one last time.
“Stay away from him, Amelia. Whatever he’s got now is real. If you try to break it, I won’t be this polite next time.”
She didn’t answer. Just watched him walk out.
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
Amelia sat back down slowly. Stared at her reflection in the window glass—perfect makeup, perfect posture, perfect everything.
She whispered to herself, “This isn’t over.”
Her nails pressed into her palm hard enough to leave marks.
Not even close.
Sam got in his car and sat there for a minute with the engine off. Hands on the wheel. Breathing stead
y.
He pulled out his phone. Opened a message to Ethan.
We need to talk. Soon.
He hit send.
Then started the engine and drove away from the restaurant without looking back.