Chapter 37: Amelia’s Emotional Conflict

As Andrew's driver drove through the streets, I gazed out the window and watched the city lights turn into fading swatches of colour. The tension within the automobile was so thick that a knife could pierce it. I knew Andrew well enough to see the weaknesses in his armour, even as he sat next to me with a mask of control on his face.

We were both broken by what had happened over the last few days. Andrew was exhausted from fighting to keep his business afloat, Marcus's betrayal, and the increasing pressure from the media. Nevertheless, he had remained—present, unwavering, a power I couldn't deny.

I wanted to despise him. That would have made things easy. But when I glanced at Andrew Callahan, I didn't feel hate. It was far more risky.

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The air was different back at his penthouse. The room appeared alive, full of unsaid tension, despite being quiet and poorly lit. Andrew poured a glass of whisky for himself, moving in a methodical, nearly robotic manner.