3

Theo’s POV I didn’t expect Amelia to call. Not that night. Maybe not ever. When her name appeared on my screen, I stared at it for a second before answering. “Amelia?” Her voice was quiet. “I’ll marry you.” For a moment, I said nothing. I had prepared myself for rejection. Actually, I had hoped for it. I had hoped she would walk away, tell her father no, tell mine to go to hell, and never look back. Because the moment she said yes, she became part of this family. And nobody came into the Wellington family without losing something. “You’re sure?” I asked. “No.” That surprised me. She sounded tired, not dramatic. Just honest. “No?” “I’m not sure about anything. But I know what happens if I say no.” I closed my eyes. I understood that better than she realized. “Amelia…” “I know what this is, Theo.” Her voice became firmer. “A deal. Two years. Separate lives. Then we leave each other alone.” “Yes.” “I’m agreeing to that.” I should have felt relieved. Instead, guilt settled heavily in my chest. “Okay,” I said. There was a pause. Then she ended the call. I stood in my room for a long time afterward. Two years. I had just tied a stranger to my family for two years. And somehow, I already felt sorry for her. ⸻ My father announced the engagement the next morning. Not to me. Not to Amelia. To his communications team. By nine, there was already a statement prepared. By ten, the family publicist had sent over three versions of our “love story” for approval. I stared at the document in disbelief. We had apparently reconnected through our fathers. Apparently Amelia and I had been getting to know each other privately for months. Apparently we had “always shared a deep respect for family values.” I almost laughed. “What is this?” My father looked up from his desk. “Public relations.” “It’s fiction.” “It’s controlled information.” “It says we’ve been dating for six months.” “It sounds more believable than saying I arranged your marriage in exchange for clearing her father’s debt.” I stared at him. He didn’t flinch. That was the problem with Victor Wellington. He could say something monstrous in the same tone other men used to discuss lunch. “The shareholder meeting is in three weeks,” he continued. “The engagement needs to be public before then.” “Why?” “Because instability creates questions.” “So does lying.” He ignored that. “The announcement goes out tomorrow. The wedding will be within the month.” I stood. “The month?” “That’s the schedule.” “You don’t get to decide everything.” He finally looked at me properly. “That is precisely what I am doing.” I wanted to argue. Instead, I thought of Ethan. My father had already made it clear what would happen if I refused. I hated him for knowing exactly where to press. ⸻ Amelia’s life changed within forty-eight hours. I watched it happen from a distance at first. Photographers appeared outside her father’s house before breakfast. Her social media accounts exploded. Articles appeared everywhere. WHO IS AMELIA ROSE? THE WOMAN WHO CAPTURED THE WELLINGTON HEIR THEO WELLINGTON FINALLY SETTLES DOWN Settles down. The words made me feel sick. My father sent stylists to her house. Then a wedding planner. Then a security team. Then two women from the Wellington family office who wanted to “prepare her for public life.” By the third day, Amelia called me. I answered immediately. “If one more woman comes into my house carrying fabric samples, I’m setting something on fire.” I laughed before I could stop myself. “That bad?” “Your family has sent six people here today.” “Only six?” “Not funny.” “It was a little funny.” “No, Theo. It wasn’t.” I could hear voices in the background. Someone asking about floral preferences. Someone else saying something about ivory versus champagne. Amelia lowered her voice. “Do you know your father wants me to change my hair?” I sat up straighter. “He said what?” “Apparently, I should look softer.” I rubbed my forehead. “I’ll handle it.” “You don’t need to.” “I do.” There was a pause. Then she said quietly, “Thank you.” I stared at the wall. That was the moment the guilt sharpened. Because Amelia should never have had to thank me for protecting her from a problem my family created. ⸻ I met Ethan that night. We had a small apartment on the other side of the city. Not ours officially. Nothing in my life with Ethan was allowed to be official. That was part of the problem. He was already inside when I arrived. Sitting on the edge of the sofa. He didn’t smile. “So,” he said. “It’s happening.” I closed the door behind me. “Yes.” He nodded. Just once. I hated that nod. It was too controlled. I knew him well enough to know it meant he was hurt. “Ethan.” “I said I understood.” “I know.” “Then stop looking at me like I’m about to fall apart.” I walked toward him. “I’m sorry.” His jaw tightened. “For what part?” I had no good answer. For the marriage? For hiding him? For choosing the company? For choosing him and still making him feel second? All of it. “I told her about you,” I said. His eyes lifted. “You did?” “Yes.” “Everything?” “Enough.” He looked away. “And she still agreed.” “She needs to save her family.” “And you need to save me.” His voice cracked slightly on the last word. I sat beside him. “That’s not fair.” “No. None of this is fair.” He stood suddenly. “I’m tired, Theo.” I looked up. “Of what?” He laughed bitterly. “Of being a secret.” The words hit harder because he had said them before. Never like this. “I understand why you’re doing this,” he continued. “I understand your father has power. I understand he can make my life difficult. I understand the company matters to you.” “You matter to me.” “Then why do I still feel like something you keep hidden in a locked room?” I stood. “That’s not what you are.” “It feels like it.” I reached for him. He let me. Barely. “I love you.” His eyes closed. “I love you too.” That was the worst part. Love wasn’t the problem. Fear was. My father had spent years making sure fear was stronger. Ethan opened his eyes. “Do you expect me to wait two years?” “No.” His face changed. I stepped closer. “I’m not ending this.” “Theo…” “I told Amelia that too.” He stared at me. “She knows?” “Yes.” “And she’s okay with it?” “She understands what the marriage is.” Ethan laughed softly. “A fake marriage to protect a real relationship.” “When you say it like that, it sounds insane.” “It is insane.” For the first time that night, he smiled. Small. Tired. But real. I pulled him into my arms. He rested his forehead against my shoulder. “I just don’t want to lose you.” “You won’t.” I said it with confidence. I wasn’t sure I felt. Amelia came to the Wellington mansion three days later for her first proper fitting. When I walked into the upstairs sitting room, there were fabrics everywhere. White. Cream. Silver. Gold. At least twelve people were moving around her. Amelia stood on a small platform wearing a half-finished gown and the expression of someone planning several murders. I leaned against the doorway. “You look happy.” Her eyes found mine. “Say one more thing and I’m marrying your father instead.” I actually laughed. One of the stylists looked horrified. Amelia stepped down from the platform. “Can we talk?” “Please.” We escaped into the adjoining library. The moment the door closed, she exhaled. “I need rules.” I nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.” She folded her arms. “Good.” We sat opposite each other. I pulled out my phone. She frowned. “What are you doing?” “Writing them down.” “That feels very corporate.” “I’m a Wellington.” “Unfortunately.” I looked at her. She smiled. It caught me off guard. We started with the obvious. “No entering each other’s bedrooms without permission,” Amelia said. “Agreed.” “No pretending when we’re alone.” “Definitely agreed.” “No interfering in each other’s relationships.” I hesitated. “What?” She noticed. “I’m not going to tell you what to do with Ethan.” “Good.” “And if one day I meet someone…” My chest tightened unexpectedly. Not from jealousy. From the complication. “We’ll handle it.” “That sounds suspicious.” “It means I’m not making promises about things we haven’t reached yet.” She rolled her eyes. “Fine.” Then I became serious. “One rule matters more than the others.” Her expression changed. She already knew. “My sexuality stays private.” She nodded. “No one can know?” “Not unless I tell them myself.” “Not even your family?” “My father knows.” “Anyone else?” I thought of Adrian. “No.” She studied me. “Okay.” “Amelia.” “I said okay.” “I need you to understand that if this gets out…” “I understand.” Her voice softened. “I won’t tell anyone.” I believed her. That surprised me. I didn’t trust easily. But there was something about Amelia. She didn’t look excited by the secret. She looked burdened by it. That made me feel safer. A knock sounded. One of the staff opened the door. “Mr. Wellington, they need Miss Rose downstairs.” “Which Mr. Wellington?” Amelia asked dryly. The woman blinked. “Mr. Theo Wellington.” “Right.” She stood. As we walked back toward the fitting room, two housemaids passed us. One whispered something to the other. I only caught one word. Adrian. My steps slowed. Amelia noticed immediately. “What?” “Nothing.” “That was definitely something.” She glanced toward the women. “Who’s Adrian?” I looked at her. I should have lied. Instead, I said, “My brother.” She raised an eyebrow. “You have a brother?” “Yes.” “And nobody thought to mention that before I agreed to marry into this family?” “You didn’t ask.” “That’s a terrible answer.” “It’s the only one I have.” She studied my face. Something in my expression must have bothered her. “What’s wrong with him?” I looked away. Adrian wasn’t the kind of person anyone ignored. Especially not when he decided something was his business. And once he noticed Amelia, he would have questions. Too many of them. I looked back at her. “My brother,” I said quietly. “And trust me, you don’t want his attention.”