AMELIA Why did life have to be so damn difficult? That was the first thought I had the moment I opened my eyes the next morning. Right now, my life was not only difficult, but complicated too. I heaved a sigh and practically had to drag myself out of bed. I did not feel well rested. Not one bit. With battling feelings of guilt, confusion, sadness and more guilt, I had gone to sleep really late last night. And then to top it all up, I had fallen asleep with an image of Damian's hurt expression in my mind's eye. The emotional torture continued this morning as I padded barefoot into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I could not stop thinking about what had happened last night, about what Damain had said. I wanted badly, so badly, for things to go back to the way there were before between Damain and I. I missed our closeness, our camaraderie. I missed the intimacy. All I had to do was close my eyes and it would seem as though I could feel his hands sliding along my- "Ow!" I le

AMELIA It was like it happened in slow motion. I watched it happen, but I was so surprised that I could not do anything about it. I felt Colin's hands leave my shoulders. My leg throbbed as my knee buckled without his support. As I turned quickly to know why Colin had just stopped supporting, Damian punched Colin in the face in full view of the busy street. Right in front of the reporters. Right in the front of the whole world, because sure as hell, those cameras were streaming what was happening, live. For a long moment, I was speechless. The force of the blow made Colin stagger back a step. He cried out, clapped a hand to his face. Colin's face contorted in rage as he yelled, "How dare you?" Damian growled something intelligible, made a fist and advanced. Colin began to charge forward. My paralysis broke then and I stepped in front of the men. "Stop!" I cried. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Damian?" "Step aside," Colin barked from behind me. "Colin. No. P

AMELIA I cracked my knuckles, put on an apron but stopped moving. Someone was behind me. I turned to see Molly staring at me in surprise. She had a weird expression on her face but I smiled back. "Good morning, ma'am," she said. "You'll be wanting breakfast. I'll get it started." She started to move towards the cooker. "Oh no. I'm making breakfast for myself and Damian this morning so you don't have to bother." Molly stared at me in surprise before nodding and moving on. She was no doubt thinking that things were now being done differently around here which was true. I had woken up this morning with a desire to cook for Damian as I used to. It was the least I could do to apologize for my behaviour yesterday. I finished making breakfast fifteen minutes before he was due to come downstairs. I set the table, dished out the food and settled down to wait while sipping a cup of coffee. Damian walked into the kitchen a few minutes later. He was already dressed and looked much

AMELIA Just when I felt my lungs were closing up because of the lack of air, I found I could breathe again. Someone had yanked the bag off my head and shoved me into a hardbacked chair. I took in deep, rattling breaths. I blinked rapidly as my eyes tried to adjust to the very dim light in the room. Struggling against my restraints was useless because I was still bound tightly. My hands were already numb from the lack of circulation. Finally, I could make out the figures of six men most of which were standing in a loose circle around me. I whimpered and flinched when one of them stepped towards me, but he did that only to savagely peel the duct-tape off my mouth. I cried out in pain. The area around my mouth seemed to be on fire. The man who had peeled the duct tape off made a threatning gesture and I fell silent. These people had to be kidnappers. They could be a gang who kidnapped wealthy people in the city. Being the wife of Damian had made me a target. The thought made me

DAMIAN My head buzzed. My eyes ached and I could hear my stomach rumbling. I had been staring at the same set of files over and over again, trying to discover any leads the police might have missed. So far, I had not found anything helpful. I turned to Anton to ask if he had better luck than I did but he clearly didn't look like he did. With his head cradled in his palm, he was nodding off to sleep. I sighed. I didn't blame him though. We had been up all night, searching for leads to Amelia's kidnap. I hadn't slept a wink. I was conscious of the fact that with every passing second, Amelia sunk deeper into danger. I hadn't gotten a ransom call yet and I wondered why. If her abductors wanted money, why wouldn't they call me? All I needed was a number, any amount to get Amelia back and safe. I nudged Anton in the ribs. He stirred sleepily, and opened one bleary eye. "Anton, why do you think Amelia's kidnappers haven't asked for a ransom yet? Isn't that what they must be afte