Chapter Eleven- Lucas!
785 Words
“Natalie called,” Michael said abruptly.
Ethan dropped the file he was reviewing.
They were in Ethan’s office. Michael sat across from him in an all-black suit, sipping coffee carelessly, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell.
It had been a week since Ethan apologized to Amara, and everything between them had been going surprisingly well. They were even supposed to have dinner with his parents later in the evening — the last thing he needed was anything concerning Natalie.
Ethan rubbed his face. “Oh God… Michael, you’re the problem.”
Michael ignored the jab, set his coffee on the desk, and said, “Just tell Amara the truth.”
Ethan shot him a murderous look that finally made Michael shift uneasily.
“Okay, okay — I’m sorry,” Michael said.
Ethan cut him off sharply. “Why did you even let her into your house in the first place?”
“I tried to stop her, alright?” Michael snapped back. “But I wasn’t the one who made your phone unreachable.”
Ethan sighed, frustrated. “I can’t tell Amara. Just tell Natalie I’m busy. I’ll see her tomorrow.”
Michael exhaled slowly. “Man… the truth is better.”
“I will shove this coffee down your throat if you don’t shut up,” Ethan warned.
He returned to scanning through his files, but his mind was nowhere near work.
It was on Amara.
---
Ethan had given Amara his credit card to buy a dress for the family dinner.
She was at one of the most expensive boutiques in New York with her sister, Priscilla. Amara didn’t want to shop alone, so she had called her sister to join her — and Priscilla had gladly accepted.
“Welcome, ma,” one of the attendants greeted with a polite bow. “How may I help you?”
Priscilla didn’t waste time. “Show us the most expensive dresses you’ve got. Preferably Zara,” she said in her sharp, dramatic voice.
Amara rolled her eyes. Priscilla had always been the shopaholic, while she was the girl who preferred sketching outfits she hoped she would design soon.
When the attendant walked off, Priscilla let out a shrill gasp. “Ama, you’re one lucky lady. Ethan just gave you his card like that?”
Amara shrugged. “Lucas would have done the same.”
Her heart squeezed at the mention of his name. She felt guilty for not visiting him. She told herself she was keeping her distance because of Ethan… but deep down, she knew it was more complicated. She was starting to care about Ethan — and that scared her.
Priscilla kept talking, but Amara barely heard her, lost in her thoughts.
“After this, we’re getting your hair done,” Priscilla said, touching her hair. “Because, girl, you are not representing the BWC properly.”
Amara frowned. “What is BWC?”
Priscilla tapped her forehead. “Billionaire Wives Club, silly.”
Amara shook her head. Priscilla continued, “Look at you — all this money at your fingertips, and you don’t even care. Meanwhile, I’m stuck with Noah the Dork.
The man has money but is too selfish to spend.”
Amara laughed. “Maybe you overspend.”
Priscilla rolled her eyes. “Then we can switch. Noah would be very happy to have an economical wife.”
They both laughed.
The attendant returned with a rack of gorgeous designer dresses — each one screaming luxury, elegance, and class. Amara felt overwhelmed immediately.
“We’ll take all,” Priscilla said confidently, wearing her dark shades like a CEO.
Amara didn’t argue. She knew better — her sister was the firstborn, and when she decided something, that was the end of it.
She handed over Ethan’s credit card.
---
Later that evening, they reached the mansion. Priscilla had made sure Amara looked absolutely perfect before leaving.
Now, alone, Amara stood in front of the mirror, suddenly unsure if she had overdressed.
She wore a black long-fitted net gown with a soft black inner lining that stopped mid-thigh. Her hair was styled in a neat bun with soft tendrils falling at the sides. Light makeup, red lipstick. It was simple but striking.
She waited in the living room for Ethan. He had texted her earlier that he would get ready at Michael’s place and pick her up afterward.
The front door finally opened.
“Finally, Ethan,” she said, standing with a small relieved smile.
But her smile vanished instantly.
The person at the door was not Ethan.
A man stepped in wearing a black hoodie, black trousers, a black face cap, and a black nose mask.
Lucas.
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- Writer
