Chapter 5:The Morning After the Storm

The first rays of dawn filtered through the heavy velvet curtains, casting golden streaks across the luxurious hotel suite. Amelia stirred beneath the expensive sheets, her body aching in ways both unfamiliar and intimate. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, her mind heavy with confusion and disorientation.

Where was she?

She sat up abruptly, the silk sheets slipping down her bare shoulders, and a rush of memories flooded her mind—flashes of heat, a shadowy figure, whispered touches in the dark. The weight of the previous night crashed into her, bringing with it a rising wave of panic.

The man she had been with—who was he?

She glanced around the room. His presence was gone. No trace of him remained, not even a note. Only the faint scent of masculine cologne lingered in the air, teasing her with its mystery.

Her hands trembled as she grabbed the robe by the bedside and wrapped herself tightly. Her mouth was dry, her thoughts tangled. What had she done?

Before she could gather herself fully, a sudden knock echoed through the door. She froze, heart hammering. Another knock followed, louder this time.

"Amelia! Open this door right now!" Patricia's shrill voice pierced through the silence.

No.

She scrambled to her feet, eyes wide. The door burst open, and in came Patricia with Celeste right behind her, both dressed impeccably for the morning. Patricia's eyes swept over the scene—the unkempt bed, Amelia's flushed cheeks, the hotel suite that reeked of scandal.

Celeste feigned a shocked gasp. "Oh my God… she actually did it," she said, covering her mouth in mock horror.

Amelia's face turned pale. "What are you two doing here?"

Patricia's lips curled in a wicked smile. "Checking on your welfare, dear. It's not every day a girl ends up in a luxury suite after throwing herself at a stranger."

"I didn't throw myself at anyone," Amelia shot back, holding the robe tighter around herself.

Celeste's eyes sparkled with malicious glee. "You were quite the show last night. We were just worried you wouldn't make it back home, so we followed your trail. Imagine our surprise to find you here. Alone. In a stranger's bed."

"Celeste…" Amelia's voice cracked, the betrayal slicing deeper than ever.

"You really are desperate," Patricia sneered. "First, crying over a broken engagement like a little girl, then dragging our family name into the mud by acting like a common—"

"Enough!" Amelia shouted, stepping forward, her composure fraying. "You don't get to humiliate me. Not after what you've both done."

"Oh, honey," Patricia said, feigning concern. "You're the one embarrassing yourself. Sleeping with a man you don't even know? Your fiancé might have made mistakes, but at least he didn't disgrace himself in public."

Amelia's jaw tightened. Her chest burned, her eyes stung. She wouldn't cry. Not in front of them. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

Celeste stepped closer, her expression turning cold. "I just hope you don't end up pregnant with some old man's child. That would be tragic."

That was the last straw.

Without saying another word, Amelia pushed past them both, grabbed her bag from the floor, and stormed out of the suite. The hotel hallway spun briefly, but she held herself together. Each step she took away from them made her breathing steadier, her resolve stronger.

She didn't even know where she was headed. All she knew was that she couldn't stay in that room a second longer, and she couldn't allow them to see her crumble.

Outside, the city buzzed with early morning life. Amelia flagged down a cab and gave her home address through clenched teeth. As the vehicle pulled away, she leaned against the cool window glass and closed her eyes.

She felt humiliated. Exposed. But something else simmered beneath it all.

Anger.

And a deep, simmering promise.

She would rise. Not for their sake, but for her own. She would rebuild herself, piece by piece, even if she had to do it in the dark. What they tried to break, she would make stronger.

Whoever that man was from last night—he was a mystery. A chapter she would deal with later.

For now, Amelia Hart had to survive.

And when she returned, it wouldn't be with tears in her eyes.

It would be with fire.