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Six

Amélia's Point of View

I tried to keep up as Leonardo strode ahead of me toward the parking lot, stopping by his sleek Audi and holding the door open. He drove us to an enormous mansion, more grand than anything I’d ever seen.

As I stepped inside, my eyes went straight to the waterfall feature in the foyer, then to the breathtaking ocean view framed by towering windows. My mouth dropped open as I took in the marble floors, the extravagant furniture, and the ornate decorations around us. Everything was so overwhelming.

“This is incredible,” I murmured.

“I want you to feel at home here. You’ll be staying for a while,” Leonardo said as he guided me through the mansion. “What’s mine is yours. There’s nothing here you can’t use.”

I tried to keep up as he moved from room to room, pointing out hand-carved furniture, shimmering chandeliers, and pristine silk curtains. This place was straight out of a luxury magazine. A grand, winding marble staircase led up to the second floor, adorned with gilded railings. The rooms were richly decorated, each detail—from the Persian rugs to the crafted woodwork—exuding elegance.

Being here made everything feel suddenly, undeniably real.

“When is the contract ready?” I asked once we reached a guest room with an expansive view of the ocean. “When do we get married?”

“Everything’s almost ready. But we need time to make it look real.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That sounds impossible. People don’t just fall in love at the drop of a hat.”

“Don’t you believe in love at first sight?” he teased, a glint in his eye.

I shook my head. “I believe in how things actually work.”

He chuckled, a carefree laugh that made me feel like I was the only one taking this seriously. “We’ll figure it out.”

“So, we’re just signing a paper, right?”

He shook his head, growing serious. “Not quite. It has to look real—a ceremony, guests, the whole thing.”

I stared at him, stunned. “Are you kidding?”

“No. I’m taking you to meet the best wedding planner in the city. You’ll have the wedding of your dreams. You can have everything, everything you’ve ever dreamed of since you were a little girl,” he said, smiling as though this was something every woman would want.

I sank into a nearby chair, trying to catch my breath.

I wanted to tell him I never dreamed of weddings as a child. I never even imagined I’d end up marrying a man for money. Sure, I’d fantasized about love, maybe getting married one day. But I always thought I’d marry someone I loved.

“Ready?” Leonardo asked.

“For what?”

“To decide how it’s all going to be.”

I took a deep breath, feeling as if I were plunging into unknown waters. “I guess so.”

The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind. The wedding planner—a poised woman with perfectly coiffed blonde hair and flawless makeup—moved through her to-do list with military precision, making the wedding day seem like the pinnacle of anyone’s life. She almost had me excited… until her team swept in and bombarded me with questions: the color scheme, the cake, the decorations. My head spun. Yesterday, I was drowning in bills; now I was choosing fabric for designer wedding gowns?

Meanwhile, Leonardo made calls and sent emails, barely looking up from his phone.

It all felt so overwhelming. I excused myself from the showroom and went straight to the women’s bathroom at the end of the hall, where I locked myself in a stall, finally giving in to the tears that had been threatening all day.

A knock on the stall door startled me.

“Go away!” I shouted, not wanting to face the wedding planner or anyone from her team. What I really wanted was my mom or Megan—someone who understood what this all meant to me and cared about my feelings. I was about to make a huge decision, and I was doing it for all the wrong reasons.

“It’s me,” came Leonardo’s voice from the other side of the door, and I blinked in surprise.

“What are you doing in the women’s bathroom?” I asked.

“Open the door, Amélia. Let’s talk.”

I unlocked the door, not even caring that my eyes were smudged with what little makeup I’d worn.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You don’t know?” I replied, exasperated, my voice breaking.

He placed his hands on my arms, sending an unexpected shiver through me. “Talk to me. We’re in this together.”

“I barely had time to process that I’m getting married, and suddenly I’m picking out floral arrangements and cake flavors…”

Leonardo nodded slowly. “You’re right. I haven’t been as involved as I should be. I’ll change that.”

I stared at him, skeptical. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he replied, his voice softening. “I know I’m asking a lot. So, what can I do to help?”

I hesitated, feeling my voice come out in a whisper. “I want something real. I don’t want everything to be fake.”

“Something real?” he repeated, searching my face.

“Yes,” I nodded. “I want to meet your family. And I want you to meet my mom. This can’t just be a transaction, not if we’re going to be in it for six months.”

Leonardo hesitated, then nodded. “It’s just me and my dad. My mom died when I was young. So, it’s only the two of us.”

“Thank you,” I said softly.

He returned the nod. “It’s the least I can do, Amélia.”

Hearing his voice like that, soft and genuine, reminded me of how I’d felt when we first met. And it made me nervous all over again.

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