Amelia's POV

"Jackson, home," Tristan instructed his chauffeur as he opened the door and we climbed into a white BMW. Tristan looked livid with anger as he sat down beside me and took out his phone to avoid looking at me. I sat back and closed my eyes. I didn't wish to create a scene in front of his chauffeur.

I might have dozed off, as I felt hands beneath my legs as I was carried bridal style all the way up the elevator to his apartment.

"I'm awake. Please put me down," I said to him. He put me down slowly and held me by the waist as he...