Chapter 73 – The Warning
By the time Amber arrived at the charity luncheon, she had rebuilt her armor.
Hair sleek.
Makeup sharp.
Heels lethal.
The soft girl from the kitchen—the one who almost melted because a man touched her waist—was gone.
Buried.
Locked away where she belonged.
This version of Amber Gareth didn't get flustered.
Didn't hesitate.
Didn't almost kiss her contract husband in broad daylight like some love-struck idiot.
She stepped out of the car and handed the keys to the valet without a glance, sunglasses sliding into place like a shield.
Cameras flashed instantly.
Of course they did.
"Amber! Over here!"
"Mrs. Wilson!"
"How's married life treating you?"
She smiled the kind of smile that never reached her eyes and walked straight past them.
Untouchable.
Untethered.
Unbothered.
The hotel ballroom was already buzzing with Lagos' elite—designer dresses, tailored suits, air thick with perfume and curated laughter. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead like expensive lies.
Amber grabbed champagne from a passing tray without slowing.
"Look who finally decided to show up."
Camila's voice.
Amber turned.
Camila stood near the balcony doors, stunning as always, but watching Amber with too much perception for comfort.
"That tone suggests judgment," Amber said lightly.
"That tone suggests you're late," Camila replied. "Which only happens when you're emotionally compromised or dramatically annoyed. Which is it?"
Amber sipped. "Traffic."
Camila stared.
Amber sighed. "Fine. Emotionally inconvenienced."
"Ah," Camila said. "Husband trouble."
"Not trouble."
"Then?"
Amber hesitated.
And Camila caught it instantly.
"Oh no," Camila breathed. "You're falling."
Amber choked on her drink. "Excuse me?"
"You have that look."
"What look?"
"The 'I'm trying not to care but failing miserably' look."
"I do not have a look."
"You absolutely do."
Amber rolled her eyes. "You're projecting."
Camila crossed her arms. "Did he do something?"
"…No."
"Did he say something?"
"…Maybe."
Camila leaned closer. "Did he touch you?"
Amber froze.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
Camila's eyes widened. "Oh my God."
"Lower your voice," Amber hissed.
"You like him."
"I tolerate him."
"You like him."
"I don't even like most people."
"Amber."
She groaned softly. "It was nothing, okay? We bumped into each other. He caught me. Basic human reflex. Very boring. Zero romance. Extremely uninteresting."
"Then why are your ears red?"
Amber slapped her hair over them. "Shut up."
Camila laughed. "You're doomed."
"I'm not doomed."
"You're emotionally attached."
"That's worse."
They moved toward the balcony for air, the noise fading behind them.
Outside, the city stretched wide and bright.
Amber leaned on the railing, staring down at traffic far below.
"I can't do this again," she said quietly.
Camila didn't joke this time. "Do what?"
"Care about someone who can break me."
"Has he given you a reason to think he will?"
"No," Amber admitted. "Which is somehow worse."
Camila frowned. "How is that worse?"
"Because if he were awful, it would be easy," Amber said. "Easy to hate him. Easy to walk away."
She exhaled slowly.
"But he's not."
Her voice softened against her will.
"He listens. He notices things. He—" she stopped herself.
"He what?" Camila pressed gently.
Amber's fingers tightened on the railing.
"He protects me like it's instinct," she said. "Like I'm not just part of the deal."
Camila smiled faintly. "That doesn't sound terrible."
"It is when you're not supposed to need anyone."
There it was.
The truth she never said out loud.
"I built my life so I'd never depend on a man again," Amber continued. "No expectations. No heartbreak. No begging someone to stay."
"And now?"
"Now he looks at me like I matter," she whispered. "And I don't know what to do with that."
Camila stepped closer.
"Then let me give you some advice you're going to hate."
Amber groaned. "Fantastic."
"If you keep pretending you don't feel anything, you're going to hurt yourself more than he ever could."
Amber didn't answer.
"So here's the warning," Camila said softly. "Either you admit you're falling… or you run now. Because staying in the middle? That's where you get destroyed."
The words settled heavy in her chest.
Run now.
Before it's too late.
Before attachment roots too deep.
Before she forgets how to leave.
Amber looked back toward the ballroom doors.
Back toward the life she'd carefully constructed.
Safe.
Controlled.
Alone.
Then she thought of Alex standing in the kitchen that morning.
Sleeves rolled.
Voice quiet.
Hand steady on her waist.
Because I don't want to.
Her heart betrayed her with a single, dangerous truth.
She didn't want to run either.
And that scared her more than anything else.
Her phone buzzed.
A message.
Alex:
Meeting ran long. Have you eaten?
Amber stared at the screen.
Such a simple question.
So ordinary.
So unfairly warm.
Camila watched her expression change and sighed. "Yeah. You're gone."
"I hate you," Amber muttered.
"You love me."
"Unfortunately."
She typed back before she could overthink it.
Amber:
Yes. Don't work too late.
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
Then:
Alex:
I'll try.
Her chest tightened.
Not because of what he said.
Because he tried.
For her.
Camila nudged her shoulder. "You're smiling, idiot."
Amber quickly wiped it away. "Shut up."
But the armor didn't slide back into place as easily this time.
For the first time in years—
It didn't fit quite right anymore.