aftertaste by yolanda olson

Inside the VIP ward of Kretol City Hospital.

Amelia Flynn reclined on the white sheets, her attention fixed on a video playing across her tablet, sarcasm evident in her eyes.

A raging fever had landed her in the hospital, but her fiancé, Jaxton Morrison, was busy spending time with someone else at a luxury hotel.

The video clip captured the grainy shadows of a hotel hallway, yet there was no mistaking the woman next to Jaxton—Amelia's half-sister, Dayna Flynn.

Amelia put away the tablet and turned to look at the person before her, her gaze cool. "What if I say no to getting a tattoo?"

Clayton Dobson, Jaxton's assistant, wasn't surprised by her reaction. If he were in her position, he would also find it hard to accept the situation.

What kind of man spent the night at a hotel with a woman and then asked his fiancée to cover for him?

The Morrison Group was at a critical juncture, and as the heir, Jaxton being caught in such a scandal had already affected the company's stock prices.

For the family's sake, a public statement from Amelia, Jaxton's fiancée, seemed the only way to patch the damage.

Though the video blurred Dayna's face, the tattoo on her waist, Jaxton's initials, stood out as plain as day.

Acting strictly on Jaxton's instructions, Clayton had come to persuade Amelia to get the same tattoo as Dayna's.

By doing this, they could spin the narrative online and bury the brewing scandal.

With a look that mingled sympathy and resignation, Clayton said softly, "Miss Flynn, this is what Mr. Morrison wants. If you don't cooperate, there might be issues with Mrs. Davis' treatment next week..."

He left his sentence dangling, but Amelia understood him perfectly. This was Jaxton's threat.

Jaxton was using her grandmother, Michelle Davis, as leverage to threaten her.

Michelle required special treatment every week, and in all of Kretol, only the renowned doctor, Marc Chapman, could provide it.

Amelia didn't know how Jaxton had convinced Marc to treat her grandmother, but with him using her grandmother to threaten her, she had no choice but to comply.

Several minutes slipped by before Amelia turned to lie on her stomach.

Nearby, the tattoo artist arranged his equipment with quiet efficiency.

Nothing about the anesthesia worked for Amelia due to her special condition.

By the time the tattoo artist finished his work, sweat clung to Amelia's skin, soaking the thin fabric of her hospital gown, while her face looked pale.

"I'm sorry you had to endure that, Miss Flynn."

Clayton's words came as he approached, snapping a quick photo of the fresh tattoo on her waist. Then, he sent the photo to Jaxton.

After receiving Jaxton's reply, Clayton finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He nodded to the tattoo artist, who quickly left the room without a sound.

"Try to get some rest, Miss Flynn. I will come pick you up in the evening," Clayton said to Amelia.

Not bothering to wait for a reply, he left the room.

Only then did Amelia allow herself to open her eyes.

A dull ache pulsed at her lower back as she struggled upright and made her way into the bathroom.