Read with BonusRead with Bonus

Three

Amelia's Point of View

Leonardo was driving me crazy. And not just because he was incredibly attractive. I had made a fool of myself, and he had been more than gallant about it. He caught me red-handed… stealing soap. Yes, soap! I had just received my paycheck, but the money barely covered food, let alone basic essentials.

I was in the office bathroom when I noticed that we were running low on soap at home, and a ridiculous thought crossed my mind: maybe I could just take a couple of bars from the office.

There I was, holding a few soaps, when he walked in. His sudden presence threw me completely off guard, and our hands touched as I reached out in panic.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and amused.

I turned as red as a tomato, struggling to find an explanation that made sense. “I... I... well, it's just...”

One eyebrow raised, he waited. “You’re… stealing soap?”

“No, of course not!” I lied, horrified, though the soap was very much in my hands. “I mean, I’m just… borrowing it.”

Leonardo laughed, a warm, deep sound that made my heart race. “Borrowing soap is an unusual approach,” he mused.

I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. But then, he did something unexpected. He smiled at me—an actual, genuine smile that made my knees weak.

“Look, if you need soap, it’s okay. Just… let me know next time, all right?” He winked and walked out, leaving me with my thoughts and the soap.

I rode home in a taxi, replaying the scene in my mind, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment.

When the taxi pulled up in front of the modest house I shared with my mom, I took a deep breath. I was a whirlwind of emotions—humiliated that he caught me, but relieved that we had electricity and food guaranteed for another month. I didn’t want my mom to see me like this. I had to stay strong, so she could focus on her recovery.

I had just graduated from college, filled with big career hopes in advertising. But with her surgery and ongoing treatments, Mom was as weak as a kitten. No one else could provide the around-the-clock care she needed, so I took it on myself. I turned down job offers to care for her. I never regretted it.

By some miracle, she was now in remission, but still too weak to work. She was improving daily but had a long road ahead. Until she could stand on her own again, I would fight as hard as necessary. It was time to give back everything she had done for me. She deserved that much and more.

And she didn’t need to see my stress or financial worries. I didn’t want to burden her with it. That’s why I kept the full extent of our struggles to myself. I picked up odd jobs here and there over the past two years, which helped a bit, but without steady income, we had exhausted our savings and maxed out our credit cards.

I was determined to get us out of this hole before she ever found out. Unfortunately, those great job offers had dried up. After two years out of school and the job market, an internship was the best I could land. But the company paid its full-time employees well. If I could just last long enough to be hired permanently, we’d be okay.

The only question was whether we’d make it until then. I plastered on a smile and got out of the car when the front door opened.

“I have a surprise,” I said, popping the trunk. Mom came slowly toward the car.

She peeked into the trunk, her eyes widening with amazement at the sight of several grocery bags filled with food and essentials. I hadn’t been able to shop like this in ages, and seeing the trunk full made me feel a wave of relief. Her hands came to her mouth in awe.

“Where did you get all this?” she asked.

“At the store, Mom,” I teased. I kissed her cheek. “Why don’t you go inside while I put it away? I’ll make dinner.”

“Oh, honey,” Mom said, her eyes filling with tears. She hugged me tightly, and I patted her shoulder.

“I told you, I’ve got everything under control.”

A pang of guilt tugged at me for the lie, but right now, that didn’t matter. I had to keep Mom’s spirits up.

We enjoyed the first decent meal we’d had in weeks, and she laughed as I recounted the highlights of my day. I didn’t mention my two encounters with Leonardo Hale. After we ate, Mom looked worn out, so I nudged her toward the couch, and she quickly began to doze off.

“Let’s get you to bed, Mom,” I said gently.

After helping her settle in bed, I went back to the living room to clean up. When I gathered up some stray papers, I stumbled across a stack of bills I’d shoved aside, some stamped with angry red letters. My heart pounded as I opened them one by one, reading each line with a growing sense of dread. I could pay the gas and water bills with what I had left, manage the minimum payments on the medical bills… but the mortgage? I felt a knot forming in my stomach.

It’d be okay, I told myself.

But then I opened the last letter. An eviction notice. We were behind on the mortgage, and they’d begin proceedings next week. The blood drained from my face as the room seemed to spin. We couldn’t lose the house—this was our only safe place, and we had no family to turn to. I had no contact with my dad’s family; they were practically strangers.

I pressed my hands to my face, fighting back tears. I needed a miracle. If we lost the house, everything I’d been fighting for would fall apart. I couldn’t let Mom down. I was doing everything I could, giving it my all, and still, it wasn’t enough.

Instead of letting myself fall apart, I sat at the table and made some quick payments. I paid the gas bill, the minimum on the medical bills, and the car insurance. Then I took out a calculator and tried to figure out how we’d make the mortgage. Maybe I could take on more babysitting jobs. Or apply for marketing jobs, hoping one would pay more. But there was no easy answer. Employers wanted someone with experience, and without it, I was stuck. Even if I worked day and night, I still couldn’t catch up on everything.

Defeated, I dragged myself to bed, closing my eyes tightly and wishing it would all go away.

Mom was still asleep when I left the house early the next morning. It was easier to keep up the act at the office, where nobody knew the full story. When I got to my desk, Megan was already there, looking excited.

“Leonardo was here looking for you,” she said immediately.

“What?” My stomach dropped. Had he changed his mind about letting me off the hook?

“What did he want?”

“Why the hell would he tell me that?” Megan asked, grinning. “He just said to go to his office when you get in.”

“Ah,” I replied, trying to stay calm.

“What do you think it’s about?” Megan asked, clearly excited. She couldn’t see how this might be a problem. If she only knew.

“I don’t know,” I lied, though I had an idea.

“Go!” Megan said. “Don’t keep the man waiting. It’s Leonardo Hale, for crying out loud!”

I forced a smile, swallowed hard, and walked over to the elevator, riding it up to the top floor.

“May I help you?” the receptionist asked with a friendly smile, her lips a bright red that matched her chic blonde hair.

“I’m Amelia. Mr. Thorn asked for me.”

“You can go in, Amélia. He’s expecting you.”

My throat went dry as I walked through the hallway past luxurious meeting rooms and living spaces, everything perfectly designed and pristine. I tried to rehearse what I’d say—how I’d pay him back, how I’d replace the soap. I’d beg him not to fire me; I just needed time.

When I stepped into his office, I was stunned. The room was grand, with windows overlooking Los Angeles, even a sliver of ocean in the distance. He stood by his mahogany desk, sleeves rolled up, biceps visible, looking out over the city. I cleared my throat to get his attention.

“Amelia,” he greeted, his voice smooth as silk. “Close the door.”

I did as he asked.

“Is this serious?” I blurted out.

He laughed. “What?”

“I’ve never been called up here before. Am I in trouble? Is this about yesterday? I promise that.”

“It’s not about yesterday, Amelia,” he interrupted. “I need a favor.”

“What do you want?”

He smiled, his gaze steady. “Why don’t you marry me?”

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter