Crowned by the Man They Feared (Amelia and Jeremy) novel Chapter 369

**Title: Broken by Destiny by George Orwell**
**Chapter 369: She Can Fight**

Ah, the audacity of Jeremy! He had a knack for reaping all the rewards while maintaining an air of innocence that could fool anyone.

Throughout the night, he’d reveled in laughter and joy, his grin stretching wide enough to rival the Cheshire Cat.

Even when the “don’t cross the line” rule gnawed at his conscience, he managed to maintain a facade of sincerity, his poker face unwavering.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the morning haze, “you can catch up on sleep when we get home.”

Amelia, sensing the potential for an endless discussion that would only serve to deepen her discomfort, swiftly interjected.

“I’ll call Josie. Let’s meet them and head back together,” she suggested, her voice a mixture of urgency and relief.

Jeremy, well aware of her shyness and her inclination to sidestep the awkwardness of their situation, chose not to confront her.

After all, he’d hit the jackpot just yesterday; there was no way he would do anything to frighten her away now.

As she busied herself with the phone call, he darted into the bathroom, eager to freshen up.

Gazing into the mirror, he examined his reflection—everything appeared in order. Only then did he allow himself to relax.

Yet, a thought struck him, halting his moment of calm.

When had he become so concerned about his appearance?

He had always been the confident, self-assured type, exuding a certain smugness since childhood. When did he begin to act as if he were preparing for a magazine cover shoot?

It was undeniable; he had fallen for Amelia, and there was no turning back now.

Amelia, having finalized her plans with Josie, re-entered the room.

As she stepped inside, she caught sight of Jeremy, already looking polished and focused, seated by the bed, fingers dancing over his phone as he typed away at emails and messages.

Feeling a wave of self-consciousness, she made her way to the bathroom and halted, staring at her reflection—a chaotic mess of tangled hair, puffy eyes, and the aftermath of a night spent in blissful slumber.

In a flurry, she attempted to tame her hair, but a sudden realization hit her. Had she spoken to Jeremy right after waking up?

Did he catch a whiff of her morning breath?

A surge of panic coursed through her veins as she snatched her toothbrush, hastily scrubbing away any evidence of her slumber.

Finally, after a whirlwind of brushing and fixing, she emerged looking somewhat presentable, releasing a tiny sigh of relief.

“When did I become so obsessed with my appearance?”

She muttered under her breath, her self-deprecating humor offering a moment of solace as she opened the door, almost roasting herself in the process.

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