Marry My Billionaire Second Husband - Chapter 53
Chapter 53: Frosty
Amelia balled her hands into fists, wanting to let them towards her sneering face. However, since violence could possibly lead to a lawsuit, she decided that words were a better weapon instead.
So she slowly got up from under the desk and dusted herself clean, making sure that some of the dirt got on Aubrey as well.
“Whether or not I am a pathetic lapdog is not up to you to decide,” Amelia said evenly, channeling Matteo’s glacial calm and inherent derision for anyone who spoke nonsense in his general vicinity.
She remembered how Aubrey had taken a photo of the breakfast Matteo bought for her and spread her tall tales all over the office, her envy evident in her every gesture.
Jealousy was a disease; she had no doubt that Aubrey must have spread worse tales after the press conference and tabloids appeared, torpedoing Amelia’s reputation in the office.
“I wasn’t the one blatantly wagging their tail, begging for a chance to lick Emmeline’s shoes. No matter how much you scheme, you will never be able to join their family,” Amelia pointed out, her eyes going to the box of bonbons Emmeline had oh so kindly given to Aubrey.
A scoff escaped her lips. To think Aubrey was so easily bought over― this box of chocolates was a mere drop in the ocean of the Hawthorne family’s wealth, yet Aubrey still cherished it as though Emmeline had given her gold.
“You should know better than to accept her gifts since chocolate is poisonous for dogs,” Amelia added as a parting shot, before deciding, in a split second, to go back to her seat.
No matter what everyone else thought, she did have actual work to finish. Ronan had been swamped with the recent developments in Matteo’s personal life; she owed it to him to at least lighten his workload however possible.
Meanwhile, the onlookers gawked, stunned by the audacity of her retort. Aubrey had not bothered keeping her voice down as she flung poisonous words at Amelia’s face, hence Amelia had repaid her in kind.
It was impossible to miss the way the whispers grew as Amelia returned to her desk, but Amelia refused to hang her head and slink her way back, as though she was some criminal seeking clemency.
Why should she cower and squirm under their abhorrent stares? They knew nothing about her circumstances, and what she had to endure to even get to this point!
However, she had to accept that this was effectively putting herself into the line of fire. Once she sat back at her desk, Emmeline would spot her the moment she left Matteo’s office, and there would be no saving her from this heiress’s wrath.
Perhaps Emmeline might not want to hurt her, Amelia hoped to herself. After all, Matteo’s words had implied that he would still want to marry a Hawthorne heiress. As far as Emmeline knew, she was the only viable candidate.
However, even as Amelia tried to busy herself, she couldn’t help her eyes were constantly darting towards the reflection on her computer screen, where she could spot Emmeline’s long legs stride towards Matteo’s desk in utmost confidence, leaning over his desk to adjust his tie through the frosted glass.
A tendril of jealousy rose within her, and she had to squash it down. Her relationship with Matteo was fake. She had no room to be jealous.
But her heart felt otherwise.
***
Meanwhile, Emmeline was all beaming smiles as she entered Matteo’s office.
“Matteo, darling, I’m here!”
“I can see that,” Matteo said dryly, not even bothering to rise from his desk to greet her. If he did, Emmeline might think her presence was very welcome and make repeated visits. “May I ask why? Shouldn’t you be busy with something else?”
“Do I have a reason to visit my fiancé?” Emmeline asked coyly, and it took Matteo all his effort not to frown at her words and deny them. He couldn’t become overly hostile to Emmeline, not when he was banking on her ignorance to keep Amelia safe and his family happy.
“Ronan, she’s talking to you,” Matteo said instead, sounding bored. “Please keep your love life outside my office.”
Ronan, who was cursing himself for his bad timing, shot Matteo with a faintly disgusted look from the corner of his eyes. Emmeline responded with a girlish giggle, as though he had told a good joke.
Thankfully, every bit of her attention was focused on Matteo, and she failed to notice Ronan’s less-than-enthusiastic reaction.
“My fiancé is right in front of me, silly!” Emmeline leaned over and proceeded to tug on his tie. “Here, found him.”
“I see,” Matteo said.
The urge to twitch away from her touch was getting stronger by the second. He looked up into her eyes. Any other man would have found her seafoam green eyes captivating and sunk into them like a sailor drowning at sea, but Matteo only looked at them and wished for the clear blue of Amelia’s own irises.
His gaze instinctively darted to Amelia, who was sitting outside at her desk, her back ramrod straight.
“What are you looking at?” Emmeline asked, her lips forming into a pout.
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“Ronan,” Matteo said instinctively, and Ronan had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.
Why, he had no idea that Amelia Kentwood suddenly changed her name to Ronan.
“Please refrain from messing up my clothes. I’m at work,” Matteo continued.
“Ronan, would you mind leaving us for a moment?” Emmeline asked. This time, it was Matteo’s turn to shoot Ronan a pleading look, but Ronan ignored him.
“Of course. Anything for the lovebirds.”
If Emmeline had detected the heavy sarcasm in his voice, she did not mention it. Ronan walked so quickly to the door, that Matteo was almost insulted by the speed Ronan left him behind.
“Ronan is such a good man,” Emmeline commented, pleased by his obedience. “Maybe he would be a better match for your replacement secretary, now that you’re off the market.”
Matteo had to stop himself from gritting his teeth at the thought of Amelia getting together with Ronan.
“Please refrain from gossiping about their love lives. It’s not professional,” Matteo retorted.
“And sleeping with your secretary is the height of professionalism, I trust?” Emmeline pointed out, staring at him with her huge guileless eyes.
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