No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I'm Done novel Chapter 58

**TITLE: My Heart Waited Too Long and Choosing Freedom 58**
**Chapter 58 Bigger Problems**

A wave of joy surged within Hannah, filling her chest with a warmth that was almost overwhelming. Yet, despite this flicker of happiness, her expression remained clouded with concern.

She bit her lip, her brow furrowing slightly as she asked, “Then… what about Ms. Harlow?” Her voice was careful, laced with a hint of trepidation.

“She’s no longer our concern,” came Ethan’s firm reply, his tone leaving no room for debate.

“She walked out on her own. The very moment she stepped through that door, she ceased to be a part of Rowe Group,” he continued, his words sharp and resolute.

With a swift motion, he grabbed a hefty stack of project files that had been meticulously assembled, and without a second glance, he hurled them into the shredder. The machine roared to life, its blades whirring ominously as they sliced through Amelia’s cherished lines, sketches, and ideas, reducing her hard work to mere shreds of paper—useless remnants of her ambition.

Meanwhile, across town, Amelia stepped out of the Rowe Group building, the night having enveloped the city in a blanket of darkness. She hailed a cab, her heart heavy, and directed the driver to her studio.

Yet, as they approached the familiar building, a sudden impulse struck her. “You can drop me off at the next corner,” she instructed, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

After paying the fare, she exited the vehicle and began walking slowly toward the river, each step feeling like a weight she had to bear. The lights from the riverboats danced on the surface of the water, casting flickering reflections against the backdrop of tall buildings that stood proudly against the night sky.

As she walked along the river path, her thoughts were clouded with an unsettling heaviness. Since the moment she had decided to pursue her dream of becoming a fashion designer, her journey had been fraught with challenges. Creative blocks had stifled her, self-doubt had crept in, and fierce arguments over the minutiae of her designs had left her weary.

But never had she felt as utterly defeated as she did at that moment. Just one small mistake had unraveled everything she had worked tirelessly to achieve—every victory, every drop of sweat, vanished in an instant. All because she lacked an “official” title. In the grand scheme of the company, she was reduced to a mere name on paper.

Meanwhile, Hannah basked in the privilege of being Ethan’s openly cherished childhood sweetheart.

If her colleagues were willing to twist the truth to curry favor with someone as influential as Hannah, Amelia could understand that. But what stung the most was Ethan’s unwavering loyalty to Hannah, his blame directed solely at her. He even expected Amelia to pave the way for Hannah, to offer her work that would help elevate her status.

Amelia halted her steps, her hands gripping the cold metal railing as she gazed into the dark, unending expanse of the water. A sharp pain shot through her chest, mingling with a bitter ache that felt almost physical.

A soft, self-deprecating laugh escaped her lips, but it was accompanied by the warmth of unshed tears pooling in her eyes.

In that moment, she was forced to confront a harsh reality. Whenever she and Hannah found themselves in the same space, waiting for Ethan to make a choice, it was always Amelia who ended up losing.

A gust of cold wind swept across the river, cutting through her thin clothing and sending a shiver down her spine. Amelia tilted her head back, desperately trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over.

Just then, her phone buzzed, breaking through the haze of her despair. She fished it out of her pocket and saw a message from Mason.

“When do you have time to start on the gown?”

What good would it do to wallow in self-pity? Compared to Ethan’s absurd and petty behavior, she had far more pressing issues to tackle—like the daunting task of earning thirty million dollars in just half a month. That was the sum she owed the Harlows as part of her buyout fee.

The thought ignited a fire in her eyes once more.

She tucked her phone back into her pocket, inhaled deeply of the cool river air, and set off toward her studio.

“I hope this landlord is easy to work with…” she murmured to herself as she walked. “Please don’t let him be some grumpy old man with impossible demands.”

Lost in her musings, she was blissfully unaware of the events unfolding just a short distance behind her.

Concealed in the shadows near a bend in the riverside path, a sleek black Maybach sat in quiet observation.

Inside, the back seat was dimly lit, where a tall man leaned against the plush leather upholstery.

Mason’s gaze followed Amelia as she walked, his eyes tracking her every move through the tinted window until she vanished around the corner. Only then did he slowly redirect his attention away.

In the driver’s seat, his secretary stole furtive glances at him through the rearview mirror, her silence betraying her curiosity and caution.