The Heiress With Seven Secret Identies (Stella Shaw) novel Chapter 437

Nicole couldn't help but laugh. "Go on, finish your breakfast. You have school."

"Okay!"

The boys finally relaxed, their worries forgotten. Once they had headed out, Nicole went back up to her room. She opened her laptop and began studying the market positions of the Shaw and Moore corporations, meticulously analyzing the situation between the two companies.

*****

When Amelia arrived at the Wellington estate, the tension in Nathaniel's face finally began to ease.

"Amelia, thank you for coming," he said, his brow furrowed with worry. "I'm so glad you're here to see Jaron."

Nathaniel was at a loss. He never expected Jaron to drink himself into a hospital bed, and in his desperation, he had turned to his son's friend for help.

"Mr. Wellington, I'll go check on him now."

"Go ahead, please."

Amelia made her way to Jaron's room. Having visited many times before, the layout was familiar to her, but the sight of Jaron—reeking of alcohol—still came as a shock.

Jaron glanced up. Seeing her, he scrambled to his feet in a daze. "You... what are you doing here?"

He hadn't expected to ever see her alone again, let alone have her come visit him like this.

"I came to see how you were doing," Amelia replied.

"Give me a second." He reached for the bottle of wine Tiffany had given him. "Go wait for me in the study. I don't want the smell of booze to bother you. I... I need to take a shower first."

"It's alright," she said softly. "Mr. Wellington asked me to come talk to you."

At those words, the spark of excitement in Jaron's chest vanished.

So, she hadn't come on her own.

A bitter smile played on his lips. "I'm fine. Really."

"Jaron, it was an accident," Amelia said. "It wasn't your fault."

Jaron gave a slight nod. He knew it was an accident, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was responsible for Tiffany's death. He had asked for a breakup, and he was convinced that his rejection had stripped her of the will to live. If things had been different, she might have fought harder to escape. Instead, she had remained trapped in that room, dying from smoke inhalation before the flames even reached her.

"Amelia... am I a piece of work?"

"Don't beat yourself up," she said, dodging the question. "We can't bring back the dead. Those of us still here shouldn't spend the rest of our lives drowning in pain."

"Amelia, can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Did you... Was there ever a moment when you actually liked me?"

Amelia's eyes flickered, and she felt a sharp pang in her chest. She couldn't believe she was still this weak—that after all this time, it could still hurt.

"No," she said.

Jaron laughed, though the sound was heavy with grief.

She knew that was the bottle Tiffany had given him.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify