The quiet of Amelia's apartment wrapped around her like a fragile cocoon, but it did nothing to silence the storm inside her. The evening lights of the city glittered through her floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long reflections across the hardwood floor. She stood there barefoot, arms crossed over her chest, replaying the moments of the past few days on a loop that refused to end.
Liam. Julian.
She had never imagined herself being torn between two powerful men, especially not under such strange circumstances. Liam Blackthorne, with his cold control and sharp gaze, stirred something wild and unpredictable in her — something dangerous. He made her feel like the world could burn down and she wouldn't mind as long as he was beside her. But Julian Crane… he was clarity. He looked at her like she was worth fighting for, like he could see through the chaos and still wanted to stay.
Her breath caught as she recalled Liam's voice just two nights ago, low and close to her ear: "You deserve more than what this company, or this world, gives you. Let me show you."
And yet, earlier today, Julian had stood across from her in the glass-walled conference room and said something that still lingered deep in her chest: "You don't need anyone to define your path, Amelia. But if you let me, I'll help you protect it."
What did that mean? Why did it feel more intimate than Liam's touch? Why did she feel safe when Julian was near — and thrillingly unsafe when Liam was?
She pressed her palms to her face and groaned.
This was too much.
She needed clarity, not more confusion. She poured herself a glass of water, trying to anchor herself with small, grounding actions. Her phone buzzed on the counter. She didn't look. She couldn't.
Not yet.
With a deep breath, Amelia moved to the couch and curled up, laptop on her knees. Maybe work would distract her, give her something else to focus on. She opened a document she'd been editing — a pitch she and Liam were scheduled to present together in two days. But even as the lines of text scrolled before her eyes, all she could think about was how he'd stood behind her yesterday during their strategy meeting, one hand lightly brushing her chair, his voice smooth as velvet.
Was it intentional? Did he know what effect he had on her?
Probably. Liam wasn't a man who did anything without full awareness.
A knock at the door made her jump. Her heart raced. It was almost 9 p.m.
She walked to the door cautiously, looking through the peephole — and froze.
Julian.
Amelia hesitated. Then opened the door slowly.
"Julian?" she said, more confused than surprised.
He gave her a polite, almost apologetic smile. He held up a takeout bag. "I figured you hadn't eaten."
She blinked, thrown by the gesture. "You… what?"
"I was on my way home and remembered you skipped lunch. You always do that when you're overwhelmed."
She let out a nervous laugh. "Do I?"
"You do," he said softly, stepping inside as she moved aside. "I've noticed."
His eyes scanned the room. It was the first time he'd seen her apartment. Clean, minimal, warm. A contrast to Liam's glass-and-steel palace.
She didn't know what to say, so she just went to the kitchen and got plates. They sat across from each other, eating in silence for a few minutes. It should've been awkward. It wasn't.
"Amelia," he said finally, and her head snapped up.
"Yes?"
"I know I might be overstepping, but I see what's happening with Liam. And I'm not here to tell you what to do, but… I don't trust him."
Her body tensed. "Julian…"
"I've known him longer than you have. He doesn't let people in. And when he does, it's for a reason. A very strategic one."
She looked away, heart pounding. "What are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying… be careful. Whatever this is between you two — if it's real, then it's not going to be easy. And if it's not real, then you're walking into something that could hurt you."
Amelia set down her fork. Her appetite vanished.
"Why are you really here, Julian?"
He met her gaze directly. "Because I care. And because I want you to know that you have a choice. You don't owe him your loyalty. Or your heart."
The words struck deeper than she expected. She wanted to argue. But how could she, when a part of her had been thinking the same thing?
"I need time," she said quietly.
He nodded. "Then take it. But don't wait too long. Men like Liam… they move fast when they sense they're losing control."
After Julian left, Amelia sat on her balcony, staring out at the city that never slept. She wrapped her cardigan tighter around her shoulders, but it wasn't the wind that made her shiver.
It was the truth she couldn't ignore anymore: She was being pulled in two directions, and the more she fought it, the deeper she sank.
One man saw her strength. The other stirred her fire.
And she didn't know which part of her wanted to win.