20. Amelia
Chapter 20
Amelia
I sway to the music in front of West. With his arms wrapped around my waist and his lips brushing against my neck, shivers zip down my spine.
When the music stops, the room falls silent as Gordon picks up the microphone again.
“Today,” Gordon begins, his voice carrying across the room. “I stand before you not as the head of NeuroPort Dynamics, but as a father. A proud father.”
West’s grip tightens.
I lean my back against his chest as Gordon’s gaze sweeps across the room, landing on each of his children. “Westley, Easton, Dash, Arabella. Each of you has grown into a remarkable individual. You’ve exceeded every expectation I ever had.”
West groans. His chest rises and falls against my back, his breathing measured and controlled.
“But today,” Gordon continues, his eyes settling on us. “We celebrate more than my proud father moments. We celebrate love. And more importantly, Westley and Amelia. I can’t tell you how much your union brings new life to our family.”
West’s lips pause on my neck, and I sense his surprise in his tone. “What the fuck is he up to?”
Obviously not what he expected.
“Amelia,” Gordon addresses me directly. “You’ve brought a light into my son’s life that I’ve never seen since—”
West’s arms tighten as he tenses behind me.
Gordon continues his speech. The room hanging on every word. But I’m more focused on the man holding me, on his uneven breathing, and the way he glances at Dom.
“You know,” Gordon says, a wistful smile playing on his lips, “I never thought I’d see the day West would settle down. At least, not without a little pushing.”
My mind flashes to Elizabeth Jameson, the woman Gordon had wanted West to marry. Is that what he means by pushing? Before I can dwell on it, Gordon takes the speech in an unexpected direction.
“Some of you might not know this, but my son once vowed he’d never marry.” Gordon’s eyes soften as he looks at West. “It was after he lost someone to the bratva.”
The room collectively inhales, and West goes completely still behind me. His breath catches, then whispers, “What the fuck!”
I want to turn and look at him, but I’m frozen in place.
Gordon continues, oblivious to the tension radiating from his son. “It broke my heart to see him so devastated. For years, he threw himself into work, avoiding any real connections.”
My mind reels as I try to remember if anyone at work had ever mentioned how devastated he was, but nothing surfaces.
“I wasn’t fucking devastated,” he hisses behind me, as his fingers dig into my waist. His grip is almost painful now. I cover his hands with mine, trying to ground him, to remind him I’m here.
“But then,” Gordon’s voice brightens, “Amelia came into his life. And I saw a change in my son that I never thought I’d see again. So, thank you for making my son’s eyes light up again, Amelia,” Gordon raises his glass, and the room follows suit. “To Westley and Amelia.” He takes a sip of his champagne and says, “And we want to offer you our home on July the twenty-fourth for your wedding.”
I gasp.
“Bastard!” West hisses behind me.
“What do you say, Amelia…West?”
As applause fills the room, West spins me around to face him. His eyes are intense, filled with an emotion I can’t quite place. He cups my face in his hands and kisses me hard, right there in front of everyone.
Then, without warning, he drops his hands, shoving them into his pants pockets. “I need some air.” And he strides away, leaving me wondering what the kiss was about.
Make believe?
And since when did we agree to get married?
With West missing for twenty minutes now, I expect he’ll be throwing up somewhere.
Or telling his father there is no way he is pushing a wedding date on us.
I hope so because being a fiancée is one thing, but being his wife is on another level.
“Oh, Amelia, it’s going to be absolutely magical!” Arabella, West’s sister, gushes. Her platinum curls bouncing as we twirl across the dance floor. “The Hamptons’ house is the perfect venue. Have you seen it yet?”
I shake my head, trying to keep up with both her words and her steps.
“It’s breathtaking,” she continues without missing a beat. “Right on the beach, with floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the Atlantic. The sunrises are to die for. It’s not as glamorous as living in Manhattan, but you’ll love it.”
As we spin, I catch a glimpse of West across the room, deep in conversation with his father. His jaw clenches, his posture rigid. I wish I could read his mind or his lips.
“The house has this massive wraparound deck,” Arabella’s voice pulls me back. “Perfect for the ceremony. You’ll be saying your vows with the ocean as your backdrop. Can you imagine anything more romantic?”
I force a smile, my mind reeling. This is moving too fast, spinning out of control like this dance.
“And the gardens!” Arabella exclaims. “Mom’s pride and joy. They’ll be in full bloom in July. Roses, hydrangeas, lavender... It’ll smell divine.”
Her enthusiasm is infectious, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she chatters non-stop about the wedding. She twirls me again, and I stumble, feeling dizzy from more than just the dancing.
“Oh!” Arabella suddenly stops, gripping my arms. Her eyes are wide with excitement. “I almost forgot! Will you let me be one of your bridesmaids? Please? I’ve always wanted a sister, and now I’ll finally have one! And Mom told me you’re an only child, so we’ll have each other. And as Dom will be West’s best man. It’ll be perfect.”
I open my mouth, but no words come out. How do I respond to that when this wedding won’t happen? West will have to put a stop to it.
I try to catch my breath as Arabella’s excitement washes over me. But before I can formulate a response to her bridesmaid request, she’s already tugging on my arm.
“Come on, you have to talk to Mom! She’s been dying to discuss wedding details with you.”
They’ve talked about this before today.
I stumble along behind her, my head spinning. “Arabella, wait—”
But she’s already pulling me through the crowd, weaving between guests. We come to a stop in front of Catherine, but she’s engaged in conversation with other women.
“Mom!” Arabella chirps. “Look who I found!”
Catherine turns, her eyes lighting up as she sees me. “Amelia, darling! We were just talking about you.”
I force a smile, feeling overwhelmed. “Mrs. Davenport, I—”
“Oh, please,” she waves her hand dismissively. “Call me Catherine. We’re family now.”
Arabella twirls her platinum locks as she looks around the room and back at Catherine. “Mom, can we start planning the wedding tomorrow? There’s so much to do!”
I seize the opportunity. “Actually, about that... The wedding, it’s...it’s too soon. West and I, we’d decided to move things slowly. And I really want to get married in a church.”
Catherine’s smile falters for a moment, but she quickly recovers. She places a hand on my arm, leading me away from the group. “Amelia, dear, I like you. I really do. But let me give you some advice.” Her voice lowers, taking on a serious tone. “Be careful with my husband. Gordon is a vindictive man when he doesn’t get his own way, and he wants West married.”
I blink, taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. “I...I don’t understand.”
Catherine’s eyes dart around the room before settling back on me. “Just know that once Gordon sets his mind on something, it’s best not to stand in his way. For everyone’s sake.”
As she walks away, leaving me stunned, I can’t help but wonder what exactly I’m getting myself into. This fake engagement was supposed to be a simple business arrangement. But now, we’re talking about a wedding and, worse, cryptic warnings about Gordon.
I have enough of my own problems without adding more.
“I need some fresh air,” I tell Arabella when she returns.
“I’m going to find West’s friends,” she says. “Find me afterward.”
The champagne flute in my hand is empty as I wander through the crowded rooms, searching for West.
My mind’s still reeling from Gordon’s announcement. West’s past. And a wedding? In July? That’s only two months away.
I set the glass down on a passing waiter’s tray.
I need to find West and figure out what’s going on. He’ll have the answer. He always does.
As I turn a corner, I hear his voice, low and intense. “What’s Dad up to?”
I pause, about to call out, but his tone makes me hesitate.
“Dad? It’s you who is putting on quite the show, bro,” East’s voice carries clearly. “Dad’s eating it up.”
I press myself against the wall, my heart pounding.
Show? What show?
“It’s not a show,” West growls, but there’s something off in his voice.
East chuckles. “Come on, West. We both know what this is about. The company, Dad’s shares, the whole nine yards. But I’ve got to hand it to you. You’re selling it well. She even looks like she likes you. I just hope it’s fake for her sake.”
My heart drops into my stomach. The champagne I drank earlier threatens to make a reappearance. I press a hand to my mouth, trying to stifle any sound that might escape.
“You know it’s not like that,” West says, but his voice lacks conviction.
“Sure, sure,” East replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “And I’m the Pope. Look, I get it. We need this to work to get Dad off our backs and secure our positions. But don’t go falling for your own act, okay? You got her to stay but remember the endgame.”
“I’m not losing sight of what we’re planning…” West grunts.
“Good. For a minute there, I regretted not pushing for the actress as your fake fiancée. I thought you were losing sight of the bigger picture.”
“I’m not losing sight of anything.”
I can’t breathe. The room spins around me as East’s words echo in my head. I rest my head against the wall, trying to pull myself together. I thought that West actually cared for me. That this fake relationship had somehow become real? That one day we would get married…just not mere months away.
It all makes sense. All the words about being his. They were all lies to ensure I fell for him.
To make it look real.
What a fool I’ve been.
I press my stomach as anger roils in my gut.
I could’ve been the perfect fake fiancée, so why did West have to go and mess with my emotions?
I was happy to go along with his plan, but he should never have played with my heart.
I’m sick to death of people using me.