Amelia was drinking from her fourth glass of wine when she slipped away from the guests in the kitchen. Caroline had moved onto conversing with Tria, the receptionist at Damien's office, while the other guests talked amongst themselves. Damien was somewhere in the basement with Leo searching through his collection of liquor. Without his watchful gaze, she managed to escape to the second story for a moment alone.
As she turned into the master bedroom, she released the clip in her hair and shook it out, allowing her waves to cascade effortlessly down her back. She was going to remove her shoes when she heard a woman giggle at the top of the stairs and Vaughn's distinct and displeased grunt.
"You're drunk, Clarissa," he said to the woman. "It's time for us to leave."
"But I want to spend more time with your friends," she protested. "I haven't even had a chance to chat with Amelia yet. You talk about her every time your friends are over, so I want to see for myself why you like her so much."
Amelia's curiosity piqued at the mention of her name. She leaned against the doorframe of Damien's bedroom and watched the couple from where she stood. They hadn't noticed her, and she didn't intend to make her presence known.
"Clarissa," he said sternly, "let's go."
She wrinkled her nose. "I bet you wouldn't yell at Amelia like that."
Amelia scoffed. She hadn't meant to, but the scornful laughter gave her away, and Vaughn and Clarissa turned toward her.
"Sorry," she murmured. She sipped her wine and chuckled into the glass. "I just find it hilarious that you think Vaughn treats me any differently as his subordinate."
He scowled. "Ms. Lee, I'm going to pretend that you didn't say that because I know you've been drinking."
"Not enough," she said. She chugged the remaining red liquid in her and then frowned at the empty glass. "Looks like I need another one."
She pushed herself off the doorframe and stumbled forward. She gasped when her glass hit the floor, shattering upon impact. Without thinking, she fell onto her knees and pushed the shards of glass into a pile with her bare hands.
Vaughn clicked his tongue in dismay and took long strides to meet her at the other end of the hall. When he reached her, he stood her up and took her hands inside his to examine them. There were small fragments of glass stuck to her skin and a cut that ran down her palm. She hadn't even reacted to the blood on her hand and furrowed her brows instead, confused by the injury.
"Leave us," he said to Clarissa.
"Vaughn—"
"Now," he barked at her. The roughness of his voice made her jump, and without arguing, she descended the stairs.
Vaughn grabbed Amelia by the wrist and dragged her into the bathroom. He turned the tap on and held her hand under the running water as he searched the cabinets for a first aid kit.
"You don't have to be so mean to her," Amelia said as she watched the water run with her blood.
He ignored her as he continued his search, but that only invited her to speak again.
"Like most people, she just wants you to like her," she told him.
He paused. "Is that what you want?"
Amelia was quiet. For a moment, only the sound of running water filled the room. Her silence seemed to cause more tension, so she decided to speak again.
"No one at the office wants to associate themselves with me because they think you're playing favorites," she informed him. "They don't see the amount of work I put into my job to please you. I put up with your unrealistic demands in hopes that you'll finally notice me, but you never will."
He daringly cupped her face and tilted it so she was looking at him. When she flinched upon being touched, he apologetically smiled and dropped his hand by his side.
"You were twenty two when I interviewed you," he told her. "I didn't realize how young you were until I checked your application again. The way you carried yourself, your eloquent speech, and your deep understanding of law made me think you were far too experienced to be my assistant. But I didn't want to lose you to anyone else, so I selfishly hired you. I'd never admit these things if you weren't drunk."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not drunk."
He gave her a pointed look and gestured to her hand that she was now drying with a towel.
"Maybe just a little," she muttered as she shut off the tap.
He chuckled. "I want to tell you how much you truly mean to me, but you won't remember anything that I say."
"Tell me anyway," she urged. "At least we would've had an open and honest conversation."
He peered at her lips and softly smiled. "I'm your boss, Amelia. Some things are better left unsaid."
"Are they?"
"If I want to remain cordial with Damien, yes," he said. He resumed his search in the cabinet for the first aid kit, and when he located it, he retrieved the roll of gauze from inside. "I've burned a lot of bridges trying to get to the top, but he's one of the few friends I have left. I don't know what I'd do if I lost his friendship."
Amelia winced in pain when he removed the towel from her hand and began wrapping it with the gauze.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Am I hurting you?"
"I'm okay," she assured him. "Are you?"
He flinched, surprised by the question. "You're asking if I'm okay?"
"You said a lot of things that I may or may not remember. I want to make sure that you won't leave here with regrets."
"I don't think I'll regret this conversation," he told her. "It'll help me be a better boss for you or even a friend."
He lifted her hand once he had finished tying off the two ends of the gauze and examined it.
"All done," he said, grinning.
"Thanks, Dr. Morris."
Vaughn chuckled and opened his mouth to respond, but Damien spoke instead.
"I leave you alone for one minute, and you've managed to disappear with someone else," he said.
Amelia looked out into the hallway where Damien was standing against the wall directly across the bathroom. She grinned upon meeting his gaze and charged toward him, running straight into his arms.
"Clarissa told me you were hurt." He captured her face in his hands and inspected it, but he found no injuries. "Are you okay, my love?"
She nodded and showed him her wrapped hand. "I cut myself, but Vaughn helped me."
He peered into the bathroom where Vaughn was cleaning up the mess on the sink and then looked at Amelia again. "I see that. It's a good thing he was here then."
"It was superficial," he informed Damien. He shut off the light in the bathroom and stepped out into the hallway. "She'll be fine, but I'd check on it every few hours."
"I can take care of her," Damien told his friend.
Amelia nudged him for his rough tone and smiled at Vaughn. "Thanks again. I'll see you at the office on Monday."
Vaughn nodded. "Yeah, I'll see you. Thanks for hosting, Damien."
Damien didn't say anything. Instead, he silently watched his friend walk away from them and disappear down the stairs.
"You could have been nicer," Amelia said, prompting him to shift his gaze toward her. "He thinks pretty highly of you."
Damien scowled. "If that were true, he wouldn't be up here confessing his love to you."
Her mouth dropped, and she tried to reply to him, but he was already storming away.
YOU ARE READING
Dominated
Romance"Or would you prefer to be my pet?" he asked, yanking the chain. She gasped and placed her hands on his thighs to brace herself then nodded her head. "Say it," he demanded. She bit into her lower lip and moved her eyes over the bulge in his pants. W...
