The CEO's Regret: You made me your lie, I become your Loss-Chapter 82: Who goes first

As the sun set on the seventh day of their new life, the three of them sat in the living room. The fire was crackling, the tea was warm, and for the first time in her memory, Amara didn’t feel the need to look over her shoulder. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

The normalcy of the house was put to the test on a Tuesday evening over something as trivial as the television remote. It was a small, mundane friction that would have turned into a psychological war weeks ago, but now, it felt like a sitcom.

Amira, her red hair glowing under the lamplight, was lobbying hard for a gritty, fast-paced crime documentary. "It’s educational, Amara. I need to see how the professional criminals do it so I can retire my amateur jersey."

Amara rolled her eyes, clutching the remote to her chest like a sacred relic. "Absolutely not. We are watching the period drama about the Victorian bakers. I need low stakes, high flour content, and zero stabbings."

"Bakers? Amara, that’s practically a sedative," Amira groaned, flopping back onto the velvet sofa. "At least give me a thriller. Something with a plot twist."

"The plot twist is whether the sourdough rises, Amira. It’s gripping," Amara shot back, her lips twitching into a smile.

Julian, sitting in his armchair with a legal brief, didn’t even look up. "I’m voting for the bakers. I’ve had enough ’thrills’ to last me three lifetimes. I want to see a man stress over a lemon tart."

Amira threw a decorative silk pillow at him, which he caught without breaking his stride in reading. "Traitor. You’re only saying that because you’re whipped."

The room erupted into light, easy laughter, the kind that didn’t leave a bitter aftertaste.

Julian glanced at the time and let out a quiet sigh. "I should get going... It’s getting late."

"I’ll see you off," Amara said immediately, already standing.

Behind her, Amira wasted no time finally grabbing the remote like it was a long-awaited victory. Now, the TV belonged to her. Amara caught the look and smiled, shaking her head.

"Don’t get too comfortable," she teased. "I’m coming back for that."

Amira only smirked, eyes glued to the screen.

Outside, the night air wrapped around them, cool and whispering. Amara barely had time to register it before Julian stepped closer.

"You should go back in," he murmured, his hands gently rubbing her shoulders, warming her through the thin fabric. His eyes flickered briefly around them, cautious... like he was making sure they were alone.

Then, without another word, he pulled her in.

The kiss was soft but full. The kind that lingered just enough to make your heart forget its rhythm.

"I’ve been wanting to do that for days," Julian admitted, his voice low.

Amara blinked, a smile slowly spreading across her lips. She hadn’t seen it coming, and maybe that’s what made it even better. The surprise. The thrill. The way her heart suddenly decided to race like it had somewhere important to be.

He stepped back slightly, his gaze warm but firm. "Now go inside before you catch a cold."

Then, softer, almost like a secret "I love you." Amara’s breath hitched.

Before she could respond, Julian reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. Inside, a diamond necklace caught the light, shimmering like it had its own heartbeat.

Amara’s eyes widened. "You... you get me gifts too?" she said, a little breathless, her fingers brushing over it.

Her heart was loud now, too loud. Say it, she told herself. Say it back. I love you too, Julian... you make my heart race.

But the words stayed stuck, tangled somewhere between fear and feeling.

Julian didn’t push. He just smiled that same patient, boyish smile that made everything feel... safe. "Go on," he said gently, nudging her toward the door.

And just like that, she was inside. The door clicked shut, leaving Julian outside, still smiling like a boy who had just done something brave. Leaning against the door, Amara let out a slow breath, her fingers instinctively touching the necklace.

Tomorrow. She’d get him something too. And tomorrow... she’d finally tell him how he makes her feel.

---

The atmosphere of peace was shattered in an instant. Amara was moving through the high-end boutique, her mind light with thoughts of Julian. She flitted between displays, her short hair catching the light.

"This one’s good. I like this one," she whispered, touching a silk tie. She moved to a display of cufflinks. "Oh! This one’s good."

She was so distracted by her love for Julian that she didn’t notice the shadow following her. A little girl, no older than seven, tugged on Amara’s shopping bag. "Miss? My puppy is stuck in the alleyway behind the shop. Please, the guards won’t let me back there."

Amara’s heart, now soft and open, didn’t hesitate. She stepped away from the main floor, slipping past her security detail for just a moment to help the child.

As soon as she turned the corner into the shadowed alley, the puppy vanished. A heavy cloth, smelling of chemicals, was pressed over her face. The last thing she saw was the cold, hollowed-out eyes of Shane Martins.

When Amara’s eyes finally flickered open, the world was blurry and cold. She tried to move her hands, but they were cinched tight with coarse rope to the arms of a wooden chair.

She wasn’t alone.

To her left, slumped in an identical chair, was Sebastian Creed. He looked battered, a dark bruise blooming across his cheekbone, his breathing ragged. He groaned as he regained consciousness, his eyes widening in terror as he saw Amara.

"Amara?" he croaked. "What... where are we?"

"Welcome back to the world of the living," a voice rasped from the shadows.

Shane stepped into the light of a single, swinging bulb. He looked unrecognizable. The grief that had seemed like a quiet sorrow at the gate had curdled into something monstrous. He wasn’t the grieving father anymore; he was a judge, jury, and executioner.

"You both look so confused," Shane said, his voice terrifyingly calm as he sharpened a long, surgical blade against a whetstone. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. "You think because you cut your hair and said your sorries that the world just resets? That Elara and my daughter stay in the ground while you two go shopping and play house?"

He walked behind them, the blade glinting. He placed a hand on the back of Seb’s chair, then moved to Amara’s, leaning down so his cold breath tickled her ear.

"The Creed legacy took her life. Amara, you led her to that road. And Sebastian... your greed started the fire." Shane stepped to the front, looking at them both with a tilted head, a sickeningly calm smile on his face.

"I wonder," Shane whispered, tapping the blade against his chin. "Which one should I kill first?"