by C C Simeon
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Book Description
Finding your twin flame isn’t always everything you want it to be.
Amelia didn’t know this until it was too late. She’d always believed in manifesting what you want, in karma and in soul mates. She’d always believed that there was someone for everyone. But Amelia was a fool all those years, and now she finds herself in a difficult position between a rock and a hard place.
A twin flame will always find you, even if you don’t think it exists.
Hunter is a businessman. He’s handsome, he’s smart, and he’s also married. Years after starting his family, he finally found his twin flame. But Amelia couldn’t have come at a worse time. There is more going on in the world than just what’s blossoming between the two of them, and Hunter can’t seem to keep himself away from Amelia.
Both Amelia’s and Hunter’s pasts come back to haunt them. But what if their pasts are connected? What if their pasts are being brought back from the dead by one person? Will Hilton be able to destroy them both? Or will they come out the other end even stronger?
My Twin Flame
Book 1
Chelsea Simeon
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Mondays
Chapter 2: Another Body
Chapter 3: The Law of Attraction
Chapter 4: Makeshift Forts
Chapter 5: Catching Up
Chapter 6: The Smell of Paint
Chapter 7: Casual Affair
Chapter 8: Confrontation
Chapter 9: Teamwork
Chapter 10: A Child’s Love
Chapter 11: Time
Chapter 12: Dark Places
Chapter 13: Hospital
Chapter 14: A Joyous Friendship
Chapter 15: Discos and Bartenders
Chapter 16: Reflections
Chapter 17: Marriage
Chapter 18: My Place
Chapter 19: Wine and Pizza
Chapter 20: A Night of Passion
Chapter 21: Dances With Devils
Chapter 22: The Corpse
Chapter 23: It’s a Date
Chapter 24: Fair Enough
Chapter 25: Brother, Brother
Chapter 26: Unwanted Visitors
Chapter 27: Drifting
Chapter 28: Walls
Chapter 29: Ugly Truths
Chapter 30: Lucky Strikes
Chapter 31: Packages and Photos
Chapter 1: Mondays
There were few things Amelia hated more than Mondays. She detested entitled parents and cacti. She hated bats and spiders. But Mondays? Those were the worst of all. There was absolutely nothing good about them. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy her job—she did. She loved working in advertising; it gave her the opportunity to come in contact with a lot of strange and wonderful new people. Although there were some Karens and Kyles, most days she found that the nice people outweighed the unpleasant ones. But on a Monday, she just couldn’t bring herself to see the good.
After a weekend of sleeping late and having her dogs around to keep her company, going back into the office was the cruellest form of torture. How was she supposed to enjoy wearing a pencil skirt and heels when her entire weekend had been spent in sweatpants?
“You look like death,” Joy said, not looking much better herself.
Joy was 22 and enjoyed partying, even on a Sunday night. Her hangover was clearly getting the better of her. Her chocolate skin had a gray hue, and even her pitch-black afro seemed a little droopy.
“I have to call Mrs. Graham today,” Amelia said by way of explanation. It was all Joy needed.
“Oof.” She pulled a face. “I wonder what her cats did this weekend.”
Mrs. Graham, the crazy cat lady, assumed everyone wanted to hear about her felines and their daily activities. Amelia couldn’t bring herself to tell the woman that she only wanted to renew the contract for her billboard every month; Amelia didn’t have even the slightest interest in her cats. She always wondered what the deal was with Mr. Graham. She was married, she had children and the love of her animals, but still it seemed as if her life was completely empty—she had to fill it up with strangers and more animals. What was her husband like? Was she stuck in a marriage that she couldn’t stomach getting out of?
The thought made Amelia’s skin crawl. She didn’t want to think of a life like that. She didn’t want to imagine marrying the wrong person and then being forced to spend the rest of her life with them. No, Amelia was very much set on finding the perfect man. She refused to commit if there was any sort of doubt. She wanted to marry her soul mate and no one else, and if she didn’t find him in her lifetime, then her dogs were enough to keep her company. She wasn’t going to force herself into a loveless marriage just so she could have a family and the illusion of love. Even if it meant turning into a bitter, lonely old lady.
At least she wouldn’t have to care for an old man by her side that she had nothing in common with.
She sighed. “Did you know that last month, the Persian had kittens? She wanted to give me one and I had to tell her that I was more of a dog person. She proceeded to explain to me why cats are better than dogs.”
“Yikes.” Joy turned to her computer, then apparently decided that there was no way she was going to be productive and turned back to Amelia. “I had a client tell me all about his divorce the other day. The poor man was squeezed for every penny. Lost his house and everything—his wife even got full custody. I had to listen to how amazing his kids are. I nearly felt sorry for the guy, until he admitted that he only cheated once. Wanted to whack him through the phone. Can you believe that? As if cheating once is in any way acceptable. You can’t tell me that he would forgive his wife if she’d slept with her yoga instructor only once.” Joy rolled her eyes.
“I would have bled the man dry, too, if I’m being perfectly honest,” she added. “I can’t stand guys like him. How can anyone in their right mind think that it’s okay to be a total jackass?”
“Not all of us can have perfect love lives like you, Joy,” Amelia pointed out.
Joy had been with the same guy since she was 16. It was unfair, Amelia t
hought. She was 25 and couldn’t keep a relationship alive past the first month. She quickly lost interest, which made having a long-term relationship complicated. But she knew that when the right person came along, she wouldn’t have to work as hard to keep the flame alive. Somehow, she knew that flame was supposed to burn no matter what.
Joy groaned. “Derrick tried out a new recipe every night last week. I swear, I’ve lost like 10 pounds already. Who the hell stuffs peppers with rice and olives?”
Amelia shuddered—her own eating habits were far from healthy. Her dinners consisted of instant ramen and diced jalapeños. Still, it sounded much better than stuffed peppers.
“Is that why you’ve been stockpiling those granola bars under your desk?”
Joy thought no one noticed her ravenous eating every morning. She looked like a homeless animal that was finally getting its first proper meal in weeks. The granola bar was gone faster than she could open the package.
“A girl’s got to eat,” Joy said, shrugging. “I need coffee; I had a few too many shots last night. You want anything?”
“I’ll take a coffee,” said Amelia with a nod. “No sugar and a little milk, please.”
Joy crinkled her nose. “Jesus. I don’t know how you can drink that demon blood.”
“Not all of us enjoy an entire pot of sugar in our coffee, Joy,” Amelia replied defensively. She could feel her nostrils flare at the mere thought. It was disgusting.
“I can’t help that I have a sweet tooth.” Joy stood up and put on her stiletto heels. “I’ll be right back.”
Amelia watched her friend weave herself through the maze of desks and people, greeting every single one of the employees by name, even the ones she didn’t like. Joy was a much better person than Amelia. If Amelia didn’t like someone, there was no way she was going to make an effort to be nice to them. She was petty like that. Or perhaps she just wasn’t a hypocrite.
The phone on her desk rang, rudely forcing her out of her daydream. She watched it ring a few times, hoping it would stop, but when it became apparent that it wouldn’t, she answered it with her best fake, chirpy voice. At least it was an internal call and not a customer.
“Amelia Jones speaking.”
“Hey, Amelia.” Fran’s voice was just a little too soft. Amelia had to press the phone harder to her ear to hear the mousy woman speaking. “The boss wants to see you.”
“Why?” Amelia asked. Fran answered something, but Amelia couldn’t hear what it was. Instead, she thanked the receptionist and hung up.
What a way to start the week. What a bloody way to start a day. Being called into the boss’s office was never a good thing. Everyone knew that. Amelia had watched enough movies to guess that she was either getting fired or promoted. She was certain it wasn’t the latter.
Reluctantly, she scrawled a note on a yellow sticky note and stuck it to Joy’s monitor before closing the online shopping window she’d been browsing all morning. It was time to head toward the boss’ office.
Mr. Radley was nice enough. He greeted everyone politely but mostly kept to himself. He didn’t often mingle with his employees, so no one really knew much about him. It unsettled Amelia. Usually, there was enough gossip about someone in the office to know what to expect when you spoke to them, but with Mr. Radley? There was nothing. There was absolutely nothing for her to go on. When there was something that needed to be done, he usually had Fran relay the message. Aside from Amelia’s interview, she hadn’t spoken to him much. Not about something that actually mattered.
She walked down the long, grey corridor, convincing herself that this was the last time she was going to walk this hallway as an employed woman. She didn’t think she was going to miss this depressing place much, but she was surprised to find a knot in her stomach. She could get a job anywhere after this one. She had enough experience and talent. She had people skills and a good eye—better than most, some would say. But she didn’t think she wanted to work anywhere else. She enjoyed this office much more than she’d realized.
Amelia paused in front of a mirror, trying to calm her mop of curly, brown hair, making sure that her eyeliner was still on her eyes and not her cheeks, and checking to see if said green eyes looked as red and tired as they felt. They were fine, and she thanked any god that was looking over her for that. The door to Mr. Radley’s office was open, but she knocked regardless.
“You can come in, Amelia,” a rough voice said, sending a chill up her spine. “Close the door behind you.”
Amelia obeyed, her heart beating in her throat. She found the well-dressed man behind his desk, looking over some paperwork before he set it down as she took a seat. His office was as impersonal as the rest of the building. There were no photos, no sign of a personal life.
Amelia bit her lip, and Mr. Radley started chuckling. “You’re basically oozing fear. Relax, you’re not in trouble.”
Amelia furrowed her brow. “I’m not?”
“No.” He shook his head, his full lips curling into a smile to reveal an arch of pearly whites. “I have a very special client that could mean big things for the company. I’ve offered to take on the job myself, but I can’t do it alone. And you’re the best at what you do. I don’t believe that anyone else in this office has gotten as much positive feedback as you have.”
“You want my help?”
“Yes,” he confirmed, “I want us to work together on this project. I believe that your eye for detail and my technical skills can really push this to the next level.”
“I—” Amelia stammered, feeling a little overwhelmed. She didn’t know what to feel or what to say. Then, she said the first thing that came to mind. “I’d be honored, Mr. Radley.”
“You can call me Hunter,” he said. “No need for formality, we’re co-workers now. We have equal say in what goes and what doesn’t. We can discuss the details of the project tonight after work. Dinner? The company’s paying.”
She grinned, feeling almost weak with relief. “How could I say no to that?”
Chapter 2: Another Body
Hayden looked at the scene before her, twisting her wedding band around her finger over and over again. The detective was the youngest in her field, and her co-workers didn’t let her forget it. If she didn’t solve this case, she was never going to hear the end of it.
They already doubted her. All of them doubted her abilities. They were all assholes. There was a reason Hayden had been promoted so swiftly. She was the most talented detective of them all—and she knew it, too. But this case… This gruesome murder scene in front of her had her stumped. She would never have admitted it, though. Not to the men who so smugly walked past her desk every day, knowing she hadn’t solved the case yet. No, never to them. As far as they were concerned, she had clues and a reliable lead. Nothing less, nothing more. But, God, this case was going to give her gray hair. The most annoying part was that there was nothing she could do about it. There were no clues, no hints, no leads. There was absolutely nothing that made enough sense to go on. Not one single thing.
There were a hundred possibilities—each with its own hole, its own faulty logic that made it highly improbable. Still, there was something about it. Something that nagged at Hayden’s brain. She knew she was on to something, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. There was something more to this case, and Hayden wouldn’t rest until she found what that was. This went beyond proving herself to her co-workers. This had become a personal obsession. This murderer, whoever he was, was making a fool out of her—and she was taking it personally.
She knew it was silly. This person probably didn’t even know she existed. The only thing the news told the public was that they’d put their best detective on the case but, for their safety, the identity of said detective couldn’t be announced. What bull. The only reason they didn’t want to announce her was that she was a woman. Because they didn’t think she could defend herself. But there was the slight chance that the killer knew who she was and what she was working on. If th
e killer was as smart as Hayden knew he was, he would have figured out who was in control of the case as soon as the first body was found. Perhaps he was watching her from the crowd at that very moment.
Hayden looked at the crowd that formed around the crime scene, sighing. They were making a spectacle of this. Hayden hated to admit that it was, indeed, a spectacle. The body had been artistically placed so that it wouldn’t be missed. They couldn’t move it just yet, not without properly examining the scene first—which meant that it was up to the officers to keep the public as far away as possible.
The only problem was that each and every one of them was incompetent. They didn’t have the balls to do what needed to be done. Or, at least, none of them cared to do what was necessary. No, they were only there for the paychecks and perks. Nothing else mattered to them. This wasn’t a passion of theirs, it wasn’t an obsession—not like it was for Hayden.
Hayden didn’t want to believe it, at first. She didn’t want to believe that policemen were in the force for any reason other than being helpful, reinforcing the word of law. Hayden’s father made it seem like everything was about upholding these laws, about making the world a better place, about helping those that needed it the most. He was dead now, but Hayden had never forgotten anything he’d told her. He’d made it seem like the best job in the world, and for the longest time, Hayden had thought that every police officer felt the same way. When she’d joined the force, she’d quickly learned that it was not true in the slightest. She’d found out that no one shared her enthusiasm and her undying need to help people.