Love Me Back (Amelia and Daniel) novel Chapter 57

From the corner of her eye, Amelia caught sight of it—her fingers twitched, hand half-raised to accept the piece of cake Charles offered her. But then a cold, unfeeling voice cut in beside her. “Amelia, I’m your husband.”

She hesitated, then smoothly redirected her hand, taking Daniel’s slice instead.

Daniel’s frown eased, just barely. But in the next instant, Amelia tossed his cake straight into the trash.

“Daniel, I’m your wife,” she replied, throwing his words right back at him.

If he could play games, why couldn’t she?

Under Daniel’s icy glare, Amelia accepted Charles’s cake this time. “Thank you.”

The birthday song wasn’t even halfway through, but the air in the private room was already as thick and heavy as the icing on the cake.

Finley was still grinning like an idiot, busy dividing up the cake, until he glanced back and nearly dropped the knife. What the hell? Why did everyone look like they’d just swallowed a mouthful of wasabi?

Can you blame them? Amelia had just thrown Daniel’s cake in the trash right in front of him. That was about as subtle as a slap to the face.

Finley had no idea what had just gone down, but he wasn’t stupid enough to ask. As the birthday boy, it was his job to smooth things over, so he forced a laugh and scrambled for small talk.

“Hey, Daniel—your lips are so red. Are you wearing lipstick or something?”

Amelia nearly stabbed her tongue with her fork. Lipstick? Oh, he was wearing lipstick, alright. Hers.

Finley must’ve left half his brain at home for his birthday. Who asks stuff like that?

While Amelia was cursing him silently, Daniel actually looked amused.

The usually aloof prince shed his icy demeanor in a flash, leaning back in his chair with a lazy, wicked grin. “Do they look good?”

Daniel was already unfairly handsome, with sharp features and a perfectly proportioned face, but with those crimson lips, he looked positively sinful.

“Yeah, looks great!” Finley jumped at the chance to flatter him. “What brand is it? Looks so natural—I want to get some for myself.”

Daniel didn’t miss a beat. “Wife’s brand. Probably not for sale.”

Amelia should’ve left ages ago—the moment Violet started acting coy, she should’ve walked out. But here she was, sticking around like a masochist, just to see what Daniel would say next.

He’d hurt her before, and she knew he’d do it again. But another cut on a heart already hanging by a thread wouldn’t change much. If anything, maybe it would finally sever that last strand.

The harsher he was, the quicker she could let go.

Daniel said nothing.

He didn’t stop Violet, nor did he ask Amelia to sing. But silence—wasn’t that just another form of consent?

Violet smiled sweetly, picked up the mic from the table, and passed it around Daniel to Amelia. “Come on, Amelia, do us a favor.”

All eyes were on the microphone.

Amelia’s hand tightened at her side—then abruptly relaxed.

Fine. They wanted a song? She’d give them one.