Crowned by the Man They Feared (Amelia and Jeremy) novel Chapter 660

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It was the worst kind of loss. Gianna didn't just fail. She paid for it.

The more Gianna stared at the screen, the more it burned. It felt like a boulder was lodged in her chest, heavy enough to steal her breath.

Why did Amelia get everything?

The background, the love, the protection—and now, even Jeremy. He was born into wealth and was devoted to her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And Gianna? She was stuck in the shadows, watching them shine. She couldn't even land a petty strike.

All she could do now was sit in some crappy bar and drink. She couldn't afford luxury hotels, private dining rooms, or high-end salons anymore. She couldn't even afford the discreet, expensive bars where people never asked questions.

Once, she'd spent four figures on breakfast, on socks, on nothing at all. A meal and a bottle of wine used to cost thousands.

Now, the money was gone. The properties were gone, too. She'd burned through everything.

Back then, cash flowed toward her. Now, money only flowed out, and nothing came back in. How could she keep living like she used to?

The Jordans didn't seem interested in taking her back, either. The small allowance her mother gave her barely covered anything.

The friends who used to swarm around her disappeared. The second she fell, they scattered. Not one of them even bothered to call her.

When she ran into someone on the street, they either pretended not to see her or looked her up and down with that awful mix of pity and contempt, as if she were a clown who had fallen from a stage into the mud.

Thinking about that, and about Amelia's life now, Gianna could only keep drinking. She drank herself stupid every day. If she stayed drunk, she didn't have to be awake. She didn't have to think.

But she couldn't stop the regret from creeping in. She regretted turning on her brothers and Emery so early and tearing everything apart before she had to.

Would she still be the Nygards' pampered socialite if she hadn't done that?

She was deep into her drink, nearly blackout drunk, when a few men wandered over. They smiled softly and friendly, the way men smile when they want something.

"Hey, pretty girl. You're drinking that hard, you're gonna run into bad people. You should learn to protect yourself."

"Yeah," another added. "You're so beautiful. What if someone tricks you?"

"Where do you live?" a third person asked. "I'll take you home."

Gianna was drunk enough that the room swayed, but a thin thread of awareness remained. Her mind was sludge, yet one thing stood out painfully clearly.

No one had cared about her like her brothers used to. No one had looked after her like that in a long time. So, when someone offered her warmth, even if it was fake, she grabbed it without thinking.