When Amelia woke up this morning, she discovered herself sprawled over Landon like an octopus, her limbs tangled around him in a way that left absolutely no room for plausible deniability.

Is he…? Amelia’s gaze darted toward his abdomen, hesitant yet curious.

Sure enough, beneath the silk comforter, there was an unmistakable rise. Her cheeks burned crimson, the mortification spreading all the way to her ears. He won’t think I did this on purpose… will he?

“T… I didn’t mean to,” she stammered, her voice trembling with embarrassment. “I’ve always had bad sleeping habits since I was a kid."

Landon let out a low, unimpressed huff. “I know.” Amelia exhaled in relief, grateful for his understanding.

“You girls never sleep still anyway,” he added casually, as if stating a fact.

She froze mid-breath, the words hitting her like a slap. A prickle of unease crept through her chest. ‘How does he know that so well? Just how many women has he slept with?’

Amelia’s gaze sharpened, her previously softened expression hardening as she looked at him anew. ‘He looks decent on the outside, but turns out he’s just another scumbag.’ And just like that, his perfectly chiseled features lost their allure to her.

Her movements as she got out of bed to wash up were anything but subtle, and the sound of her stomping around and loudly clattering items made it impossible for Landon to ignore her irritation and fall asleep.

When she finally returned with a hot towel, she slapped it onto his face with little ceremony, the rough motion startling a painful grunt out of him.

Landon winced, piecing together her behavior in hindsight. ‘Is she… mad at me?’ he wondered. Then, almost instantly, indignation flared within him. ‘Wait a second, she’s the one who spent the whole night tossing and turning, plastered against me, making me deal with my morning boner, and she’s mad at me?’

Amelia’s voice was clipped as she tossed the towel aside. “Your face is clean. I’m going to get breakfast.”

‘You haven’t brushed my teeth,’ Landon pointed out internally, his tone flat in her mind.

Amelia’s laugh was sharp and humorless. “You don’t even open your mouth to eat, so what’s the point?” Rendered speechless for a moment, Landon resorted to practicality. “Then help me change my clothes!”

Her lips curled into a smirk. “You’re not sweating while lying there. No need to change so often.”

He inhaled deeply to steady himself. It was only their second day of marriage, and she already seemed determined to shirk any duty toward him.

“I’m leaving. You just stay here and keep lying down,” she said breezily, throwing the towel over her shoulder as she made for the door.

A sudden pang tightened Landon’s chest, and he called out urgently in both their minds, “Wait!”

She stopped, turning her head with a raised brow. “Mr. Kingsley, what else do you need?” Her tone dripped with sarcasm, the formal title making it clear she was still angry.

Landon hesitated, unaccustomed to navigating such prickly moods. He didn’t want to spend another lonely day cooped up at home, but he also had no clue how to coax her into staying. He never had any experience sweet-talking girls.

After a moment’s thought, he concluded she was flustered and decided to address the obvious elephant in the room, hoping to ease the tension and the awkwardness for her.

“Wesley said my body is gradually waking up. What happened just now has nothing to do with you,” he offered, aiming for reassurance.

Amelia rolled her eyes so hard she nearly sprained something. She wasn’t naive–three years of marriage in her last life had taught her enough about these things, though she had never been with a man. ‘If it wasn’t because of desire, then how does his whole body stay perfectly still except for that part?’

Landon shifted tactics, his voice in her mind firm yet pleading. ‘Stay home today. Take care of me!’

“There are maids for that,” she shot back, her discomfort with him growing by the second. She didn’t want to look after him at all. That traitorous little tent of his was far too distracting and awkward.

“You’re my wife. It’s your duty to look after me,” Landon countered, his mental voice laced with authority.

Amelia pursed her lips, rolling her eyes again for good measure. “Fine.”

At Kingsley Villa, most chores were handled by the staff. Amelia’s only responsibility was to give Landon massages and have some casual conversations with him. But today, her mood was sour, and she wasn’t in the least inclined to fulfill even that minimal obligation.

Instead, she instructed the servants to carry Landon out to the garden and settle him on a lounge chair to soak up the sun. As for herself, she grabbed a book and positioned herself nearby, fully intent on ignoring him.

A gentle breeze swept through the yard, rustling the foliage and filling the air with the subtle, earthy scent of flowers and freshly cut grass. The interplay of sunlight and shadow danced across the garden, lending the scene an almost dreamlike serenity.

Landon leaned back against the chair, letting the warmth of the sun seep into his skin. A rare sense of peace washed over him, lulling him into a drowsy, relaxed state he hadn’t experienced in years.

For reasons he couldn’t quite pinpoint, having Amelia nearby made him feel inexplicably calm and comfortable. It was as if her mere presence smoothed out the jagged edges of his thoughts, taming the restlessness that so often consumed him.

Even with her obvious annoyance and refusal to talk to him, he didn’t feel irritated. Her quiet energy grounded him and made the world seem a little less chaotic.

“Amy, about that plot of land you mentioned yesterday–I’ve already arranged for someone to approach the seller,” Gloria announced as she approached, a steaming cup of milk in hand and her face glowing with a pleased smile.

“Already? Wow, that is truly impressive,” Amelia replied, her admiration almost reverent.

At that moment, she couldn’t help but marvel at the ease with which the wealthy solved problems. She realized money truly was a miraculous thing. If only she, once the Edwards family’s heiress, could afford even a fraction of such extravagance. Now, she couldn’t even justify buying herself a decent handbag.

“What land?” Landon’s voice cut through her thoughts, his curiosity tinged with suspicion.

Amelia glanced at Gloria, her tone measured. “Gloria, there’s really no rush. The Foster family doesn’t have the liquidity to buy that land at Stonefield right now.”

Her words carried layers of meaning: Zachary was counting on her to liquidate her inheritance to finance his acquisition.

Gloria waved off her concerns with an airy laugh. “It’s just a plot of land. If you like it, we’ll buy it. Consider it a wedding gift from me."

“Excuse me?” Amelia’s eyes widened in disbelief. The sheer generosity rendered her momentarily speechless. That’s $300 million.

“And once you give Landon a child,” Gloria added with a knowing smile, her gaze drifting pointedly to Amelia’s stomach, “I’ll gift you something even better.”

‘Oh my goodness. Did she really just say that in front of Landon?’ Amelia’s cheeks flared a deep crimson. She had half a mind to cover his ears, though it was far too late for that.

Sure enough, Landon’s voice dripped with icy derision in her mind. ‘Amelia, so this is all about money!’

“I’m not doing this for money,” Amelia stammered, her face hot with embarrassment. But with Gloria right there, she couldn’t exactly address him directly.

“I know.” Gloria interjected, her tone kind and motherly as she patted Amelia’s hand. “But life has its costs, and you need money to live.”

“This is… too much,” Amelia protested, shaking her head. The numbers were dizzying. “Buying that land now costs $300 million. In three months, it’ll be worth $3 billion.”

“And that’s even better,” Gloria replied breezily, not giving a care. “You’ll be a billionaire overnight.”

Amelia couldn’t help but silently speculate. Just how wealthy is the Kingsley family if they treat $3 billion like pocket change?

Landon, however, was utterly stunned.

He owned a plot of land at Stonefield that had been on the market for ages. The location was less than ideal, and no buyers had shown serious interest. Yet, from Amelia’s confident tone, she seemed certain its value would skyrocket tenfold in just three months.

A creeping suspicion took root in his mind. He wondered if she had inside information and if the Foster family knew something they weren’t sharing and had tipped her off.

“Gloria, to be honest, my main goal in doing all this is to get back at Zachary,” Amelia confessed, nervously twisting her fingers. “You’ve already helped me achieve that. The profits from this should go to your family.”

Gloria responded with a knowing smile, her tone light but firm, “What belongs to our family is already yours, isn’t it? It’s just a matter of putting your name on it a little earlier.”

Inwardly, Gloria mused, ‘If she’s willing to go to such lengths to take revenge on Zachary, I can stop worrying about her rekindling any old flames with him. She must’ve hated his guts.’

“But this is too much,” Amelia said softly, stealing a glance at Landon. ‘Why isn’t he saying anything? Does he really think I married into his family just for money? That’s such an insult!’

“It’s not too much,” Gloria replied, her gaze shifting to her comatose son. The warmth in her smile faded, replaced by a flicker of worry. “The empire Landon and his father built is worth far more than $3 billion. But I can barely hold it all together anymore.”

Landon’s heart clenched, anger bubbling to the surface. ‘What have Henry and his family done now?’ He seethed silently, directing his frustration at Amelia. ‘Ask her now!’

“Is Henry pressuring you again?” Amelia ventured, her voice tinged with concern.

Gloria sighed deeply, her shoulders sagging under the weight of unspoken burdens. “This time, it’s Landon’s grandmother. She’s demanding that Henry and his family be given seats on the board.”

“Absolutely not!” Landon bellowed internally, his mind screaming in defiance. But his body betrayed no sign of the turmoil within–his expression remained calm and serene, his voice locked away in silence.

If there was any solace to be found, it was in Amelia’s presence.

His tone softened as he addressed her silently. ‘Getting onto the board with honorary titles is just Uncle Henry’s first move. Once inside, they’ll strip my mother of her power. This has to be stopped.”

“Gloria, I may come from a family with a much smaller business, but I know enough about business to understand what a board seat entails.

Henry might claim it’s just an honorary position, but once he’s in, it’ll be about real power. He won’t stop at empty titles,” Amelia said, her voice steady yet sympathetic as she looked at Gloria.

She couldn’t help noticing the silver strands streaking through Gloria’s immaculate hair. Though still in her early fifties, Gloria carried the heavy burden of a crumbling legacy and relentless pressure from Henry and Donna Kingsley, who was Landon’s grandmother. Landon’s accident had only made their moves more aggressive.

“I know you’re right, but…” Gloria murmured, her tone tinged with resignation. She let out another weary sigh before turning her pleading eyes to Amelia. “Amy, if it’s possible… I hope you can conceive Landon’s child soon.”