Chapter 4: The Edge of Loyalty

The storm seemed to quiet for a moment, as if even the heavens were holding their breath. The rain still fell in sheets, but the pounding in Amelia’s chest was louder than the drumming on the chapel roof. Matthew’s voice hung in the air, thick with accusation and rage, and for a brief second, Amelia was paralyzed.

“What the hell is going on here?” Matthew repeated, his voice low but laced with venom.

Amelia couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Everything she had feared was unraveling in front of her—her brother, the enforcer of the Rothwell name, stood before them, fury radiating from him like heat from a flame. His eyes, dark and sharp, flicked between her and Ethan, narrowing as he pieced together the scene before him. Amelia could see the gears turning in his mind, his suspicions rapidly giving way to certainty.

Ethan, still standing close to her, took a step forward, his body instinctively placing itself between Amelia and Matthew. His jaw was clenched, the tension radiating from him like the storm itself. “It’s not what you think,” he began, his voice measured but firm.

Matthew’s eyes blazed as he took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides. The rain ran down his face, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Oh, it’s exactly what I think,” he spat. “You’ve been sneaking around with him?” His gaze snapped to Amelia, his voice rising with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. “With a Hargrove?”

Amelia’s throat tightened. She could feel the panic rising, choking her. Her brother was right here, witnessing the one thing she had desperately tried to keep hidden. There was no explaining this away. But even as the fear gripped her, something else burned hotter inside—anger. Anger at the feud, at the expectations that had shackled her for so long, and at Matthew, for trying to control her life as their father had always done.

“It’s not your business, Matthew,” Amelia said, her voice trembling at first but growing stronger as the words left her lips. She stepped forward, moving out from behind Ethan’s protective stance. “You don’t get to decide who I talk to.”

Matthew’s eyes widened in disbelief, and for a moment, he seemed too stunned to respond. “Not my business?” His laugh was cold, sharp. “You’re a Rothwell, Amelia! This family—our name—everything we’ve worked for depends on you not throwing it all away for him!” He jabbed a finger in Ethan’s direction, his voice thick with contempt. “The Hargroves are poison. You know that. You’ve always known that.”

Ethan stiffened beside her, his eyes flashing with barely-contained fury, but Amelia grabbed his arm before he could speak. She knew her brother; if Ethan tried to defend himself, it would only push Matthew further toward violence.

But Matthew wasn’t done. He took another step toward them, his voice lowering to a dangerous growl. “You’ve betrayed us. You’ve betrayed this family, and for what? A few stolen moments with someone who would destroy us the first chance he got?”

“That’s not true!” Amelia shot back, the words escaping her before she could think. Her anger flared, hot and uncontrollable. “This feud is what’s destroying us! You and Father—you’re so obsessed with keeping the past alive that you don’t even see what it’s doing to us. To me.”

Matthew’s face twisted with anger, but there was something else in his eyes now—a flicker of hurt. He took another step forward, his hands trembling slightly as they unclenched. “Amelia… you don’t understand. This is bigger than you. This is about loyalty. You don’t get to just walk away from that.”

“Loyalty?” Amelia’s voice shook with a mixture of rage and desperation. “Loyalty to what? A feud none of us even started? A hatred that’s been passed down like a curse? You think that’s loyalty? I’m tired, Matthew. I’m tired of living in the shadow of something I didn’t choose.”

The wind howled through the trees, the storm outside growing fiercer again, as if the elements themselves were feeding off the rising tension. Matthew’s expression hardened once more, his hurt masked by the anger that had always defined him. He took a breath, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he glanced back at Ethan.

“And you,” Matthew said, his voice sharp as a blade, “you think you can just waltz in and take her from us? From our family?”

Ethan, who had been holding his tongue, finally stepped forward, his blue eyes cold and steady. “I’m not here to take her from anything,” he said, his voice calm but edged with steel. “Amelia is her own person. She can make her own choices.”

“Don’t act like you understand anything about our family,” Matthew snarled. “You’re a Hargrove. All you’ve ever done is try to destroy us. Now, you think you can take her and run? You don’t belong here.”

“I’m not trying to fight you, Matthew,” Ethan said, his voice low, dangerous. “But if you think you’re going to stop me from being with her, you’re wrong.”

Amelia’s breath hitched as the two men squared off. She could feel the tension crackling between them, thick and dangerous, like a fuse about to ignite. She had to stop this before it exploded into something worse—before someone got hurt.

“Stop it!” she shouted, stepping between them, her arms outstretched. “Both of you, just stop!”

Ethan’s eyes flickered with concern, but he didn’t move. Matthew, however, looked as though he was on the verge of losing control, his chest rising and falling with each angry breath.

Amelia turned to face her brother, her voice softer now, pleading. “Matthew, please. This isn’t what you think. I didn’t choose this to hurt you. I didn’t want any of this.”

Matthew’s jaw clenched, his fists trembling at his sides. For a long moment, he didn’t speak, his gaze locked on hers. The storm swirled around them, the rain soaking through their clothes, but the world seemed to shrink to just the three of them, standing on the edge of something they couldn’t take back.

Finally, Matthew broke the silence, his voice low and filled with an anger she had never heard from him before. “You have to come home, Amelia,” he said through gritted teeth. “This ends now. You’re coming with me, and we’re going to fix this before it’s too late.”

Amelia shook her head, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I can’t go back,” she whispered. “Not after this.”

Matthew’s face darkened, and he took another step forward. “You don’t have a choice.”

Ethan moved to her side, his hand finding hers in the cold, and for the first time in her life, Amelia felt what it was like to choose for herself.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, her voice barely audible, but firm. “Not without him.”

Matthew’s eyes widened, fury and shock flashing across his face. “Amelia, don’t do this.”

But she didn’t move.

The storm raged on, and in that moment, Amelia knew she had crossed the line—there was no going back now. She had chosen.

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