**Chapter 34: Home**
Amelia clung to him with a fierce determination, her brow furrowed in defiance as she retorted, “He’s not a bad guy.” Her voice was steady, but the tension in her body revealed her inner turmoil.
The man, who had remained silent thus far, finally stirred. His demeanor shifted, and he looked down at Amelia, who was still wrapped around him like a vine. In a swift motion, he bent at the waist, hoisting her effortlessly onto his shoulder.
Amelia found herself dangling upside down, her hair cascading in a wild curtain around her face.
With purposeful strides, the man moved forward, his long legs covering ground quickly. As they passed by a stunned Lily, he paused momentarily, casting a calm yet intense glance in her direction. “Don’t worry,” he assured her, his voice low and steady, “I won’t hurt her.”
And just like that, in front of everyone, he strode away with Amelia, leaving Lily frozen in shock.
Her eyes widened, disbelief washing over her as she watched them disappear at the far end of the hallway. Even though she prided herself on having seen it all, a part of her couldn’t help but gasp internally, *Damn, that’s actually kind of romantic!*
Mason carried Amelia down to the underground parking garage, the air thick with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. He opened the passenger door with care, setting her gently inside the vehicle.
Once she was no longer in his arms, a flicker of unease crossed Amelia’s face. She curled into a small ball on the seat, her long hair tousled and framing her features like a halo of chaos, a poignant image of someone abandoned by the world.
He closed the door softly, slid into the driver’s seat, and turned to her, his voice gentle yet probing. “Where do you want to go?”
Amelia’s eyes remained closed, her long lashes glistening with unshed tears, giving her an ethereal quality. She seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, a soft whimper escaping her lips as she murmured, “Wanna go…”
Mason’s brow furrowed, a shadow crossing his face. “Which home?” he pressed, a hint of concern creeping into his tone.
“Home…” Amelia echoed, her voice thick and fragile. “I think… I don’t have a home anymore. They all left me.”
“Who’s ‘they’?” Mason asked, his voice softening without his conscious effort.
But this time, Amelia remained silent, her breathing gradually evening out as she succumbed to sleep.
Mason let out a weary sigh, his fingers brushing against her cheek to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The warmth of her skin sent a rush of protectiveness through him, and he whispered, almost to himself, “Your tolerance for alcohol is still awful.”
With a heavy heart, he started the car and navigated smoothly out of the garage, steering toward Amelia’s studio rather than the Rowe Estate.
Upon arriving at the quaint standalone villa that housed her studio, Mason opened the passenger door and gently tapped her cheek. “Amelia, you’re home,” he said softly.
Amelia stirred slightly, a frown crossing her features, but she didn’t awaken. Instead, she mumbled something incoherent, lost in her dreams.


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