Crowned by the Man They Feared (Amelia and Jeremy) novel Chapter 646

Regina had probably realized the same thing, which was why she'd always kept Elian at arm's length and never fully trusted him.

He had to win Regina's trust, protect the Nygard Group's foundation, and still leak her plans to Amelia at critical moments—one wrong move and he'd be finished.

Amelia's fingers absently rubbed the fabric over her knee, her mind replaying the tired yet unwavering look in Elian's eyes when he left, leaving her emotions in a tangled mess.

Jeremy caught her expression, eased off the gas, and freed one hand to cover hers, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thin sleeve with a steady, grounding strength.

"Business is a battlefield. If he made this choice, it's because he thought it through—and because he believes in you and the Nygards.

"What we need to do now is take Regina off the board as fast as possible."

Jeremy's low, steady voice worked like a shot of tranquilizer, and the chaos in Amelia's chest slowly began to settle.

"Yeah. I know." She nodded, then remembered Elian's warning and added, "He doesn't know where Dad hid that thing, but he thinks the clue might be somewhere in what Dad left me."

Looked like she needed to dig through everything again the moment she got home and pray something new surfaced.

Once they got home, Amelia washed up first, then flopped down onto the couch.

On a normal day, after being out this long, she'd change, shower, and then sprawl there boneless until sleep claimed her.

Either dozing off alone, or drowsing in some clingy tangle with a certain man.

But Elian's words kept looping in her head, and in the end, she couldn't help herself—she shot up and started tearing the place apart.

She began by going through everything her father had left behind, then made her way to the other room where he had kept the birthday gifts he'd prepared for her over the years—gifts he had never given.

She went through them with almost obsessive focus.

The music boxes, the designer dresses, the jaw-droppingly expensive jewelry—she checked every piece from every angle.

By the time she'd gone through the whole collection, there was still nothing out of the ordinary.

The gifts were nothing but pricey and rare, radiating nothing more than a father's clumsy love and an overuse of money.

There wasn't even the faintest hint of anything medicinal.

Unwilling to give up, she pulled out her father's journals again, along with that old, cracked phone she'd thrown before.

Before, every time she flipped through them, she'd felt like something was off, like there was a thread she hadn't quite caught.

Now, maybe because she was too anxious, that instinct was gone—she felt nothing but pressure.

She just felt like a headless fly, buzzing in circles.

Irritated, she raked her fingers through her hair, snapped the journal shut, and set the phone aside on the cabinet with a dull thud.

"Where did you hide it, Dad..." she muttered, frustration clouding her eyes.

Elian swore her father had left clues, but she couldn't sense a single one.

Have I missed some crucial detail?

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