###AMANDA'S PERSPECTIVE ###
As the soft rays of morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, I found myself nestled in the warm embrace of Killian.
It was a stark contrast to the previous nights we had shared;
last night felt different, it was softer, more tender, and I couldn't quite grasp the reason behind his gentleness.
There was something unsettling about it, a mystery that danced just out of reach.
I stirred slightly, breaking the spell of sleep that clung to me like a cozy blanket.
"Hey," I called out, sitting up in the thick sheets. My voice sounded a bit raspy, still caught in the remnants of sleep.
He turned to me, and I was immediately struck by the look in his eyes, they were cold and calculated, sending chills racing down my spine.
It was like staring into the Arctic; beautiful yet dangerously frigid.
"I get it, I have to go," I said, a nod of understanding passing between us.
I could feel my heart thrumming in my chest as I desperately tried to read the mood.
"Stay," he commanded, his voice low and firm.
I let out a deep, resigned sigh. My mind raced with insecurities, all too aware of Juliana's increasing closeness to him over the past few days.
It gnawed at me, this vision of him with her, whispering sweet nothings that could soon become promises.
It felt as if she were his wife and I, merely a concubine in his eyes, and I couldn't shake the rising tide of jealousy that threatened to drown me.
"What?" he inquired, arching a brow, his expression one of annoyance or perhaps curiosity.
Yeah, he might be a badass, a master at mixing pleasure with unpredictability.
One moment we were two souls entwined in fervor, and the next, he could switch to apathy, as if I were just another chapter in an ever-evolving story he was writing.
"I want to go shopping for the Gala myself. You have to release me," I stated firmly, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
"I've told you everything I know about my parents' evildoings."
Without a word, he stood and made his way toward me, his solid, muscular form causing my heart to beat a little faster.
My gaze dropped involuntarily to his well-defined abs, chiseled like a sculptor's masterpiece.
"Your eyes up here," he reminded me, the corners of his mouth twitching in a teasing smile as I felt the flush creeping up my cheeks, embarrassment flooding my senses.
"You're going to do something for me before I let you off the list," he said, his fingers gently tracing the curves of my back,
igniting a flicker of warmth that was hard to ignore.
"What must I do?" I whispered softly, the air thick with tension.
"Get your parents to confess their actions while you record every word they say," he revealed, his voice a mix of authority and anticipation.
"Once I do that, you'll let me work again?" I clarified, my heart hoping for a yes while my mind screamed at the potential trap.
"You'll live your free life again," he promised, though I couldn't help but notice the slight glint of something unreadable in his gaze.
"When?" I pressed, the urgency of my question hanging heavy in the air.
My anger simmered just beneath the surface, directed at my parents for their treacherous actions.
I'd always respected them, but now they felt like venomous snakes cloaked in deceit.
Nodding purposefully, I pushed myself away from Killian's warm presence, sensing the confusion etched across his face.
"I have to get ready," I informed him, my mind racing with plans and agendas.
He reached out, taking my hand gently, but I wrenched it away. "What happened?" he asked, concern threading through his tone.
I was drumming with fury; he was simply using my emotions as a pawn in his revenge game.
His apparent affection didn't feel real; it was as if my feelings were disposable, much like an old shirt he no longer wore.
My heart felt heavy as I realized he had married me not out of love, but as a strategic move against my father's rival.
"What's going on, Amanda?" he questioned again, his voice laced with genuine confusion. But I brushed past him, refusing to engage any further.
Just as I thought my day couldn't get worse, I collided with the one and only Juliana. She was on her way to serve Killian his morning tea, the picture of fabricated sweetness that made my skin crawl.
"Oh my gosh, you're such a bad luck charm!" she exclaimed, as if she found amusement in my distress.
"Hey, don't say that to me. I'm Killian's wife, and by law, you should show some respect," I shot back, my voice laced with defiance.
"And so what? He'll toss you aside like a piece of trash, just you wait. He's going to divorce a stand-in like you and go for the real thing, me!" she declared, her words sharp as a dagger.
"Yeah? I was in bed with him all night. How do you know you're the one he's chosen?" Anger surged within me, fueling my words.
"He's just using you, like he's used all the other women before you. You'll be forgotten faster than the sting of a needle," Juliana taunted, and at that moment, my patience snapped.
In a swift motion, I slapped her across the face, relishing in the shock that dulled her expression before I walked away with my head held high, ignoring her cries of outrage.
"Whether you like it or not, he's mine! He's taking me on a date today, just so you know!" she shouted, the desperation lacing her words only serving to stoke the embers of jealousy in my chest.
Hours later, with my mind swirling in chaos, I was driven by Lori, one of the female drivers Killian had assigned to me, to the dance school and then the gym.
My managers were professional and efficient, handling every detail with precision, but my heart was still heavy with unresolved emotions.
It was time to take action, I decided. I needed to confront my parents, to pull the truth from their lips.
They had to confess to everything, for my sake and for the sake of my own impending freedom.
The path ahead was uncertain, but I felt a glimmer of determination welling up within me as I prepared for the confrontation ahead.