Chapter-60

Amara felt suffocated inside the four walls of the gigantic mansion.

She stood at the centre kitchen island, her hands deftly mixing batter for cookies and cake, the scent of vanilla and sugar filling the air. Mind elsewhere, and hands automatically moving.

Beside her Martha bustled about, her apron dusted with flour as she prepared ingredients for the dinner. Despite the warmth of the sun and the gentle breeze that swept through the open windows, there was a palpable chill in the air—an icy void that had settled in Amara's heart.

She tried to push aside the memories that threatened to consume her, but it was difficult.

A whole damn week. It had been a week since she had discovered Rhys had a fiance since she had felt the ground crumble beneath her feet. She tried to block out the image of him standing before her, his words cutting through her like a knife as he confessed to having a woman he was going to marry one day.

With a pang of hurt, she recalled the events of that day faintly—