Elijah sat in his study, staring into space,
wondering why he did what he just did. Regret clawed at him, especially over deepening the kiss with Amelia the previous night. She had initiated it, and although he wanted to resist, his body always betrayed him around her. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as realization slowly hit him—he was becoming protective. Not just of Amelia, but of Aurora too.
He clenched his fists, his expression stoic as he recalled the moment it all began.
"You got an invitation from your brother," Luca had said four years ago, handing over a cream-colored card as Elijah returned from the office. He opened it absentmindedly, but then froze, his eyes narrowing at the photo printed on it.
It was her. The woman he had a one-night stand with five years ago. The one night he could never forget—because it had been so intense, so real, that she haunted his mind ever since.
"Look into her," he told Luca, pointing at Amelia's image before tossing the card aside and walking into the mansion. Luca had followed him briskly.
A knock on the door broke Elijah's chain of thought.
"Come in," he said sharply, his voice low and clipped, frustration evident.
The door creaked open.
And then she stepped im ,Amelia.
The sin he had been trying to resist, standing right there in front of him like temptation carved into flesh.
She wore a white, transparent shirt that clung to her skin like a second layer. No bra. Her nipples stood erect beneath the sheer fabric, proud and unbothered by modesty. Below, she wore a tiny pair of blue shorts that hugged her hips and left her toned thighs and calves entirely exposed.
Elijah's breath caught. His jaw clenched.
He could feel his cock stir against his trousers, reacting before his brain could even form a thought.
Why is she dressed like this?
She hadn't looked like this at the dining table earlier. Is this why she sent Aurora off for the weekend? To seduce me?
If it was, it was working.
He could already feel the walls of restraint crumbling inside him.
"What do you want?" he asked coldly, trying to control the heat surging through his veins.
She didn't flinch. Her voice was low and deliberate, laced with sultry innocence. "I wanted to ask if we're going to the office together tomorrow."
He growled softly under his breath.
This woman is going to be the death of me.
Everything about her, the way she moved, the teasing glint in her eyes, the curve of her lip was driving him insane. Her scent floated across the room, warm and floral, and it wrapped around him like a spell.
His body was taut, muscles straining, his bulge prominent and impossible to hide now.
He cleared his throat. "Luca will drop you off. I'll be coming in late tomorrow."
Her expression flattened, lips pressing into a disappointed line. "Alright," she said, and turned to leave.
But as she walked away, Elijah's eyes shamelessly devoured her ass—the way it swayed gently in those shorts, taunting him with every step. He remembered how it felt when she pressed it against his crotch last night. How she moaned—soft, needy—when his hands brushed against her hardened nipples.
He had tried to resist her then, had told himself he had to. Because despite everything his brother had done, they were still blood. There was still a line.
But last night, in the back seat of his car, that line had blurred.
She had mentioned Nathan—how she missed being touched by him. Elijah had only meant to comfort her. But when her lips crashed into his in a hungry, desperate kiss, everything inside him ignited.
He had kissed her back. Not like a brother-in-law. Like a man starving for something he knew he shouldn't have.
The next morning, Amelia groaned as her alarm screamed through the silence. She rolled over, half-asleep, and slammed her hand against it to shut it off.
Dragging herself into the bathroom, she took a long shower, letting the warm water wash away the restless night. Her thoughts drifted to Elijah, to the kiss, to the way his hands had roamed her body like he was memorizing it. A flush crept up her neck.
Back in her room, she slipped on a silky black bodycon gown that hugged her curves like a lover's touch. The neckline was low, teasing without being vulgar. A hint of rebellion shimmered in her eyes as she applied light makeup and headed downstairs.
Luca was already waiting in the car, sunglasses on and expression unreadable.
"Morning," she said, sliding into the seat.
"You know he's watching," Luca said calmly, starting the engine.
Amelia glanced at him. "Let him."
They drove off in silence.
Even though it was a Saturday, Elijah had insisted she come in. Her new position as his personal assistant didn't give her much room to argue. But she didn't mind. Not really. Not when being close to him meant teasing that tension between them.
At the office, she moved quickly—setting files, organizing schedules, brewing his coffee just the way he liked it.
Not five minutes after arriving, the phone on her desk buzzed.
Elijah.
"Bring me coffee."
She exhaled, standing. "Yes, sir," she whispered mockingly, and headed out.
In the hallway, she bumped straight into Carlos—her colleague from audit unit.
"Hey, Amelia," he said, flashing a smile.
"Hey, Carlos."
He looked at her from head to toe, visibly impressed. "Have you thought about what I asked?"
A slow smile curved her lips. "I have. And I absolutely agree."
He leaned closer. "So, when should we go out?"
She cocked her head. "Tonight maybe."
Carlos whispered something flirtatious in her ear, and she laughed—a genuine, teasing sound.
What she didn't know was that Elijah had been watching the entire exchange.
From the CCTV in his office.
Every word. Every smile. Every flirt.
His jaw tightened. His hands clenched into fists.
He watched as Carlos leaned close, saw Amelia's playful smile, saw the way she laughed, carefree and light. Something sharp twisted in his chest. Jealousy. Possession. Rage.
A few minutes later, Amelia stepped into his office, coffee in hand.
"Here you go," she said, setting it down.
Elijah didn't look at her.
"What took you so long?"
She blinked. "I—uh—bumped into Carlos."
"I saw."
His voice was clipped. Cold. Dangerous.
Amelia felt the shift in his energy—like walking into a storm.
"Do I need to remind you you're working under me now?" he added, standing slowly.
Her lips parted, unsure what to say. Was he seriously mad?
But before she could respond, a loud voice echoed from outside the office.
"Elijah Blackwood!"
Both turned toward the door just as it burst open.
Celeste Blackwood stormed in, regal and fierce in a white Chanel suit. Her eyes were ablaze as they landed on her
Celeste's eyes landed on her and narrowed dangerously. "You."
"Mother, this isn't the time," Elijah said, stepping between them.
"This is exactly the time. I just found out—from Luca of all people—that this woman is living here. With my granddaughter. Under your roof. Have you lost your mind?"
"She's here for Aurora," Elijah said sharply. "She needs stability."
Celeste let out a bitter laugh. "Don't lie to me, Elijah. I know that look in your eyes. She's gotten under your skin.
Elijah's voice dropped, firm and final. "That's enough."
Celeste looked between them in disbelief. "You're choosing her over your own blood?"
"I'm choosing peace. And if you can't accept that, then don't come back."
Celeste's face was stone cold as she turned and walked out without another word, leaving silence in her wake.
Amelia exhaled, her heart racing. Elijah didn't say a word. He just looked at her like she was the calm in his chaos—and the storm he couldn't escape.