Love Me Back (Amelia and Daniel) novel Chapter 350

Amelia: ?

“Have you lost your mind over dinner or something? Who in their right mind gets a matching tattoo with their ex-husband?”

Daniel shot her a look, half amused, half reproachful. “You keep calling me your ex-husband—it’s bad luck, you know.”

“If calling you that could make it happen, I’d say it a thousand times a day.”

Daniel let out a snort, pushing his plate away. “Forget it, I’m done. I’m too full on frustration to eat another bite.”

Amelia didn’t hesitate. She grabbed her purse and stood up. “Don’t forget to have Cedric keep an eye on Ruby.”

Hands shoved in his pockets, Daniel strolled toward the door beside her, his tone infuriatingly nonchalant. “Tell you what—if you get a matching tattoo with me, I’ll have Cedric protect Ruby.”

Amelia’s patience snapped instantly. “I’ll hire my own bodyguard, thanks!”

Daniel was just being difficult for the sake of it. The next day, Cedric was already reassigned to watch over Ruby.

When it came to safety, Amelia never acted out of spite. Not while she was still married to Daniel, and especially not now, with Violet causing trouble behind the scenes. She and Ruby weren’t safe. Daniel’s men were handpicked and trained by him; they were far more reliable than anyone she could hire on her own.

…

After Violet lost her job, she spent a stretch of days moping around the house.

She felt pitiful—no family, no job, and even her relationship seemed on the verge of falling apart. For years, she’d glided through life under Daniel’s protection, never having to fend for herself. Now it felt like she’d fallen straight from the clouds into the mud, and she couldn’t cope. Every day she sank deeper into gloom.

Mogan worried about her and tried to cheer her up. “Just think of it as a break. Rest up. If you want to work again, you can. If you don’t, you don’t have to. You know I can take care of you.”

He moved quietly, but when he opened the trash can, he paused. Only one cookie was missing from the batch he’d bought that morning; the rest had been tossed out.

The clatter from the kitchen woke Violet. She slipped on her slippers and padded over, only to see the discarded cookies neatly arranged on the counter by the sink. Her expression changed subtly.

Mogan had his back to her, chopping vegetables with practiced ease. His voice was cool, distant. “Have some fruit and wait a bit. Dinner’s almost ready.”

He never spoke to her like that—not without turning around, not so cold.

Violet instantly put on an apologetic look, explaining, “I didn’t mean to throw away the cookies you got me. They’d gone bad. I ate one and ended up with an upset stomach.”

Mogan paused in mid-chop, then turned to her, the tension easing from his face. “Are you alright? Do you need to see a doctor?”

“I’m fine now, really. My stomach doesn’t hurt anymore.” Violet moved closer, forcing a smile. “What are you making? It smells great.”