Chapter 17
In Houston, the afternoon sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm golden glow across the floor.
Amelia Austin stood by the window, gently rocking her daughter in her arms. April had struggled to adjust during her first few days here-restless at night, fussy in the mornings-but was finally beginning to settle.
“You’ve done so much, sweetheart.”
A familiar voice echoed softly from the foyer. Alfred Ellison stepped inside, still dressed in his travel-wrinkled suit. He had
just closed a billion-dollar deal in the neighboring city, skipping the entire celebration banquet to drive straight home.
“Let me take her. You sit down and rest.”
He walked over and carefully took the baby into his arms, his expression softening instantly as he cradled her, humming a
silly lullaby he’d made up just for her.
Even the maid, Mrs. Johnson, couldn’t help but tease, laughing, “Mr. Ellison signed up for a whole ‘super dad’ course just
to take care of this little princess. He changes diapers and burps her better than any of us.”
Amelia watched him with a warmth blooming quietly in her chest.
He had never once minded that April wasn’t his biological child. He treated her as his own, down to remembering every
feeding time to the minute. And April adored him too-every time she heard his voice, she broke into that toothless,
bubbly laugh.
Watching them now, Amelia felt more certain than ever that leaving Edmond Robinson had been the right decision.
Mrs. Austin emerged from the study, lips curled into a smirk. “Amy,” she said dryly, “one of the servants from the old house
called. Edmond showed up again, making a scene outside the gate. I had them throw him out.”
“Like a bad penny,” she muttered.
Amelia’s brows knit together for a moment, then relaxed. “It’s fine. We live in the Ellison estate now. The security here is
top-tier. He won’t be able to find us.”
Alfred stepped closer, baby in arms, his voice calm but firm. “Don’t worry. The Ellisons’ security system is military-grade. If he so much as breathes in our direction, the guards will throw him out before I even have to lift a finger.”
Their back-and-forth made Amelia laugh-genuinely, freely. The last vestiges of shadow in her heart quietly dispersed.
The name “Edmond Robinson” no longer struck like a dagger to her chest. At most, it was a grain of sand stuck in her teeth-annoying, but unworthy of her attention.
The past was over. Now, she only looked forward.
On the day of the wedding, the grand ballroom of Houston’s most exclusive hotel had been transformed into a dreamscape. The city’s elite filled the room, their whispers and admiration echoing like a rising tide.
Amelia walked down the aisle in a one-of-a-kind, handcrafted couture gown-ethereal, radiant, stunning. At the other end stood Alfred in a sharply tailored suit, his eyes fixed on her with unwavering warmth.
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Gasps and soft exclamations rose from the guest seats.
“They’re perfect together…”
Amelia’s gaze swept the room once-but she didn’t falter. Her hand reached out without hesitation and clasped Alfred’s.
Unlike the cold, obligatory wedding Edmond once gave her, this moment-this man-was the safe harbor she had always yearned for.
Then came the vows.
The celebrant’s voice echoed gently through the hall, “Miss Amelia Austin, do you take Mr. Alfred Ellison to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold…”
But the words were abruptly drowned out.
BANG!
The ballroom doors were flung open with a crash.
“Amelia!”
A raw, broken voice tore through the serene air like shattered glass. Edmond Robinson stormed in like a madman, his eyes bloodshot, chest heaving, his gaze locked on the bride at the end of the aisle.
“You can’t marry him! Come back with me!”
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