Under the Veil I Rule (Amara) novel Chapter 384

Emma froze for a moment. Was Hogan actually siding with Amara? She could’ve sworn she’d heard those two could barely stand each other.

Of course—it had to be because of Amara’s dangerously pretty face!

That little vixen just had to look so damn irresistible, drawing men to her like moths to a flame.

Emma’s gaze grew sharp, shadows flickering beneath her lashes. If she could, she would’ve clawed that smug look right off Amara’s face.

“All right, Mrs. Everly, Hogan, that’s enough from both of you,” Liliana finally broke her silence, stepping in to smooth things over. “This whole thing is shocking, but arguing about it won’t help. Let’s all go home and talk there.”

At the sound of her voice, Amara’s head snapped around.

How calculating—when it was time to point fingers, Liliana stayed quiet and let Emma do the dirty work. Only now, with tempers flaring, did she emerge as the peacemaker.

Amara glared daggers at her, imagining Liliana as a venomous serpent she longed to crush.

“Amara, here. Put this on.”

Hogan’s eyes lingered on Amara’s torn cocktail dress. The rip was clear as day—his doing, and the guilt gnawed at him. He shrugged off his suit jacket and offered it to her, awkward but sincere.

Amara didn’t refuse. She needed the cover, now more than ever. Wrapping herself in the jacket, she hurried out of the hotel.

Hogan left soon after, his mind spinning as he tried to piece together who’d set him up.

The whole thing was twisted. Someone had drugged him, locked him and Amara in a room together—God knows what could’ve happened.

By the time Hogan reached his front door, his thoughts had twisted into a snarl of suspicion and anger. He could barely sit still for two minutes before jumping up, intent on confronting Liliana.

But as soon as he stepped outside, he nearly collided with Finnian, who was striding toward him, radiating icy fury. It was like winter had arrived, all sharp edges and biting cold.

Hogan’s heart lurched. He barely managed to call out, “Finnian—!” before Finnian’s fist crashed into his face.

He hit the wall hard, pain exploding in his skull, vision swimming with stars.

Finnian closed in, grabbed him by the collar, and drew back for another punch. Hogan scrambled to explain, gasping, “Finnian, wait! Nothing happened between me and Amara!”

Finnian’s fist stopped, hovering a hair’s breadth from Hogan’s cheek, his whole body trembling—not from exhaustion, but pure, barely contained rage.