AMELIA

My head ached so badly that I cried out, and along with my stomach ache it felt like I was intentionally being tortured.

I heard voices, both familiar and unfamiliar, I heard the urgency of that man's voice…I heard his anger although this time not directed at me.

Strangely while I floated in the darkness, I was aware of everything around me, the man barking out instructions to another nervous-sounding man.

A doctor, I assumed.

I felt the softness of a mattress beneath me and the sting of spirit coming in contact with my open wounds. Then the unmistakable feeling of an IV needle being stuck in my arm.

After a while, it all quietened and the aches eased.

My eyes opened groggily, my vision blurry at first as I tried to regain my composure.

Then memories of what happened a few hours ago came rushing in and my eyes snapped open completely and I lifted off the bed with a gasp, my eyes wide with shock.

Shit!

Shit!

What the fuck is going on? Where am I?

I looked around in a panic, trying to find something that looked the least bit familiar but the dread I felt only thickened when my eyes took in the luxury of my surroundings. A bedroom that was almost the same size as our living room back at home.

Right. I needed to get back home!

Just as I dragged the strawberry-scented sheets off my body and attempted to leave the bed, the doors to the bedroom opened and that man entered again.

His brown hair was let loose, almost reaching his shoulders, his eyes the perfect shade of blue, and his lips the most kissable I’ve ever seen.

He was muscular, his biceps bulging from the simple white dress shirt he had on, he was a really large man…I silently wondered just how tall he would actually be.

No! Focus Amelia!

I shook my head, the sheets ruffled and that seemed to rouse his attention. In his grasp was what seemed to be a glass of water, he met my eyes and time stilled for a moment.

“Amelia,” my name on his lips sounded more like a curse but in that deep baritone that rumbled, I’d accept it any day.

“You…” I looked at him with a narrowed gaze, trying to read his expression or find out his intentions.

He claimed to be my husband. Which is total bullshit because if I married someone, I would fucking remember, won’t I?

I don’t trust him. No matter how attractive he is.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, there was a lack of warmth in his tone as his chilly gaze held mine in what felt like a vice grip.

He set the glass of water down next to me and I tensed up the closer he got.

His thick brows pulled together in a displeased frown when he realized I wasn’t giving him an answer.

“Are you confused? Do you really not know who I am?” he sounded torn, like he believed yet, he couldn’t believe the fact that I didn’t know who he was.

“I should be asking you the same thing,” I eyed him, “Are you still confused, will you keep up the fake story of being my husband or will you tell me what I’m actually doing here?” I questioned with a stern gaze of my own.

Surprise flickered across his features before being replaced with annoyance.

“For fuck's sake!” I heard him mutter under his breath as he took a step back and shook his head.

“This can’t be happening…I am your husband, Amelia,”

I scoffed, “I heard you the first time, Roman,” I retorted, muttering his name in the same way he did mine.

Roman. I at least remembered that part before I passed out.

“There is no way I have a husband!”

His name was magnetic, just like him.

If that was his name.

My eyes narrowed with suspicion. Did someone save me at the last minute and then kidnap me?

He seemed agitated by the fact that I didn’t accept his identity, he paced forward and backward, making my fear reach new heights.

He's a fucking psycho!

My eyes roamed the length of the room, trying to find the closest thing to a weapon.

I have to get out of here!

Just as he moved to lunge at me, I hurriedly grabbed the golden lamp from the bedside and fully stepped away from the bed, holding my…weapon in front of my body.

He looked pissed off, with a dark sneer he walked closer and I swung the lamp at him, almost scratching his beautiful face if he hadn’t been fast enough.

“Damn it! Amelia!” he roared in anger, his face red like he was damn near exploding.

“Stay away from me you fucking creep!” I yelled, swinging the lamp repeatedly as I inched closer to the wide-open bedroom door.

“Do you just pull young girls off the streets and then lie about being their husbands?” I snarled at him, my heart pounding so fast from all the adrenaline.

He stopped in his tracks and looked at me with a confused stare.

“What?”

“I don’t know what games you’re playing, old man, but I want no fucking part of it!” I screamed, swinging the lamp one last time at him before slipping through the door and making a run for it.

I had no fucking idea where I was and why a house would be this big. Still, I managed to find the stairs, running down with the lamp clutched tightly in my hands. I ran blindly forward, hoping I would find an exit before I ended up on the news.

Just then I bumped into a hard body and heard a low grunt, the person held on to my shoulders to balance me, and with dizzying speed, I swung the lamp at the person’s head.

“Ugh!” the man fell to the floor, “Mrs. Wellington, it is me!”

Hearing that familiar voice had me freezing up, my eyes wide with shock as I looked down at those familiar warm eyes.

“Trenton?” I gasped out in horror, the lamp immediately dropping from my hands as I reached for him.

He got up and gave his usual reassuring smile before righting his clothes.

“I am fine,” He reassured and I couldn’t help but notice how much different he looked. Older.

Wait. If Trenton is here…

“Amelia!”

I heard the loud stomps of Roman’s footsteps as he came down the stairs. He didn’t sound pleased.

The fucking psycho!

“Trenton, you have to help me…I think we've been kidnapped!”

Trenton's brows pulled together in confusion and just as his lips parted to speak, I felt long, callused fingers wrap around my wrist.

And before I could scream, my back was pressed flush against his chest and the scent of lavender and whiskey infiltrated my senses and muddled my thoughts.

He held both my wrists tight together and his second hand roamed up my neck, holding my chin in a vice grip and raising my face.

I wanted to turn around and knee his groin, grab Trenton’s hand, and make a run for it but the sight in front of me had my entire body still.

There I stood, frozen in shock as I started up at a large portrait of me…and Roman.

I was in a wedding dress…my hair…was longer and my lips were stretched into what seemed to be a happy but empty smile. Roman was next to me with a chilly expression, get he held me, no doubt just for the picture but the displeasure in his gaze couldn’t be hidden.

“it…It could be Photoshop!” I rasped even though I knew no technology was that advanced to make such a realistic photo.

To say I was in shock would be an understatement.

“It isn’t!” Roman muttered hotly into my ears, “This photo was taken three years and six months ago, May tenth,”

“Th…that’s impossible, that means I’ll be seventeen then and I’ll definitely remember if I got married at seventeen…will I not?” I could hear the doubt in my own words as I looked up at the magnificent portrait.

I heard him mumbling what sounded like Russian under his breath, a curse no doubt.

He let go of my chin and the warmth of his hard chest left my back, leaving me strangely cold.

“You were twenty-two in that photo,” he said.

What?

I turned around to meet his gaze, he looked down like he was irritated by my presence yet, he wasn’t lying…he truly believed I was his wife, and so did the worried-looking Trenton behind him.

“If what you’re saying is true…why don’t I remember anything? Why don’t I know who you are?” I questioned, my voice trembling as the reality of my situation began to sink in.

“That’s what I’d also like to know!” Roman explained, his fingers running through his soft tresses, he looked just as confused as I was.

“Why don’t you remember anything that happened in the past…five years?”

Five years?

Five fucking years?!

I took a slow, panicked step back.

Feeling a sudden weight on me.

He was not lying.

How the hell did I go from running away from home to being this man's wife?

How did I lose five years of my life in just a second?!