Her Identity

The next morning sunlight crept through the curtains, painting the room with a gentle glow. Max was jolted awake by persistent knocking on the door.

"Master, breakfast is ready. You have a meeting at 9am," came Ford's polite voice from the other side. Ford knew that Max often struggled with insomnia, making it a rare occurrence for him to rise after 6am. Yet today, the clock already read 8am, and Max had yet to emerge. Ford couldn't help but wonder if the presence of the mysterious girl had something to do with it. Perhaps yesterday night had taken a toll on his master's energy levels. Ford briefly contemplated preparing a truckload of Red Bull for Max in case he needed a serious energy boost in the future.

With a groggy awakening, Max felt the stiffness in his neck, a reminder of his sleep on the carpeted floor, entirely naked. His gaze swept around the room, attempting to piece together the events that had led to his current state. Then, his eyes landed on a figure resting peacefully on the bed, and the memory of last night flooded back—the moment when he had been unceremoniously kicked off the bed by his sugarbaby just as things were getting steamy. The audacity! How dare she!!

Fueled by a simmering anger, Max marched towards the bed, fully intending to vent his frustrations on the sleeping girl. But when he saw her sweet face sleeping on his bed, her delicate features softened in sleep. The remnants of his annoyance miraculously evaporated, replaced by a sense of astonishment…

  His gaze traveled down to her legs, his thoughts circling back to the astonishing event of the previous night. How had these seemingly fragile legs managed to deliver such a powerful kick? It was a puzzle he couldn't quite wrap his mind around.

After all, he was a man of considerable size and muscle.Renowned as the undefeated king in the mafia world, his strength was legendary. To think that someone as petite as her to have ousted him from the bed was truly beyond his comprehension. Was it because he was too engrossed and caught off guards?

"Master, are you awake? Do you need me to reschedule the meeting for a later time?" Ford's voice persisted, accompanied by another set of knocks on the door.

"No need, I'll be out shortly," Max's voice carried through the door.

Observing Amelia's furrowed brow as she was roused by the sound of Ford's voice, Max moved towards the door with careful steps.

"Shh... she's still asleep," Max cautioned Ford as he opened the door, gesturing for him to lower his voice.

As the door creaked open, Ford's gaze swept over the room, taking in the aftermath of the previous night's events. The once-organized desk now lay strewn with scattered documents, while the lamp on the bedside table had been toppled over. Even the bathroom bore the evidence of their chaotic encounter. It was a sight to behold, an environment transformed by the previous night’s chaos. Ford couldn't help but allow his imagination to wander, envisioning the wildness that must have ensued. The mess spoke volumes. With a wry smile, he realized that stocking up on Red Bull might indeed be a wise precaution, as his master's energy levels could undoubtedly use a boost if their nights continued in a similar vein.

Max's voice cut through Ford's musings, drawing his attention back to the present. "Don't disturb her rest. Just let me know when she's awake."

"Of course, master," Ford responded, a respectful nod accompanying his affirmation.

——

Seated at the dining table, Max motioned for Ford to provide him with more information on Amelia. As they engaged in conversation, Ford handed over the contract that Amelia had signed the previous day.

Max's gaze settled on the document, his scrutiny revealing a series of glaring omissions. "No address? No date of birth? Next of kin? Why are all these sections left blank?" he questioned.

"Master, Miss Amelia informed us that she has no recollection of these details. It appears that she encountered an accident in the sea, resulting in the loss of her memory," Ford explained.

Max's eyebrows arched in mild surprise, the news giving him pause. As a mafia boss, he was well aware of the numerous threats that surrounded him. It was second nature for him to approach every situation with caution, especially when dealing with unfamiliar individuals. Yet, even as his mind raced with potential suspicions, he found himself resisting the impulse to view Amelia through a lens of mistrust. There was something in her clear, innocent gaze that dispelled his usual wariness.Besides, if she had harbored ill intentions toward him, she had ample opportunity to exploit his vulnerability the previous night when he had been rendered unconscious.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Max set aside his reservations, allowing the explanation to settle within him.

"Keep an eye out for any news circulating in this area. There might be clues that could help her piece together her identity," he instructed Ford, his gaze firm and resolute.

Of course, Master," Ford responded with a respectful nod.

"Notify me as soon as she awakens," Max concluded, his tone firm yet tinged with a note of concern. With his parting words, he left the villa.

——

As the sun ascended to its midday zenith, Amelia's slumber was rudely interrupted by the frantic cries for help emanating from Herald.

"Princess Amelia… Princess... Amelia… Help… Princess Ameliaaa!!"

With a sleepy groan, Amelia rubbed her eyes, battling away the remnants of drowsiness. She scanned the room, trying to pinpoint the source of the distress.

"Herald...?"

"Princess! Help! I'm falling...! I'm at the window!"

Her heart raced as she rushed toward the window. Peering outside, she saw Herald perilously clinging to the window ledge, his tiny claws struggling to maintain their grip.

Reacting swiftly, Amelia flung the window open and carefully retrieved Herald, holding him securely in her palm.

"Phew... Thank you, Princess Amelia," Herald breathed a sigh of relief, his tiny heart still racing from the close call.

Amelia beamed at him, a sense of accomplishment washing over her. "You're welcome, Herald!"

Concern laced Herald's voice as he inquired, "Princess Amelia, how was your night? Were you hurt?"

Amelia pondered for a moment, tapping her chin playfully. "Hmmm... Nope, I emerged unscathed, though I can't say the same for the human."

A hint of anxiety crept into her tone as she glanced around, her brows knitting. "Wait... where is he? Did he somehow... decompose overnight?"

Herald chuckled softly, understanding her apprehension. "Don't worry, Princess Amelia. I saw him strolling to his car this morning. He seems to be in one piece. If he were in bad shape, he'd probably be whisked away on a stretcher by now."

Amelia's tense shoulders relaxed as she breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness! I thought I might have inadvertently caused his demise. I had no idea humans were so... delicate."

Amelia's expression turned more serious. "Speaking of delicate, Herald… I'm in deep trouble. I think I accidentally spoiled the pearl necklace. It's not reacting anymore. How am I supposed to locate the treasure without it?"

Herald scuttled up, using his tiny stature to examine the pearl more closely. "Not working? But it doesn't look like there's any cracks or scratches on it. Maybe the magic has worn off? I'll send a message back to the ocean and wait for them to send us the manual on troubleshooting pearl necklaces.”

"Alright," Amelia sighed, her brows furrowing in concern. "In the meantime, I'll stay put. My gut feeling tells me that the treasure must be somewhere in this villa. If I were to leave, it might be a challenge to reenter."

"You're wise, Princess Amelia. By the way, I've been a diligent hermit and gathered some information for you," Herald reported.

Amelia leaned in, intrigued. "Tell me, Herald. What have you found?"