Emma’s Point of ViewThis restaurant was a scene straight out of a billionaire's daydream, marble floors, sparkling chandeliers, and waitstaff that glided as if on air. I sat stiffly across from Evelyn, Adrian’s mother, who had her legs crossed elegantly, a picture of poise and hostility. Her piercing gaze locked onto me, her lips curling into a practiced smile that somehow felt like a threat. My palms were slick with sweat, hidden under the table where I fidgeted with the fabric of my skirt.This wasn’t a lunch, it felt more like an ambush.As a waiter set a plate of overpriced food in front of us, Evelyn picked up her cutleries before gesturing delicately with her manicured hand. “Eat,” she said before beginning to eat hers, her voice dripping with sweetness, but her eyes betrayed the venom underneath.I nodded meekly, picking up my fork and toying with the food instead, though my stomach churned too much to take a bite. I had barely started when her voice cut through the silence li
Emma's POVI barely registered the warmth of Adrian’s lips on mine before I staggered back, my hand flying to my mouth in shock. His expression was unreadable as he rubbed the back of his neck, stepping away like he’d just set something on fire.“Shit,” he muttered under his breath "I'm... I'm sorry!" he finished before abruptly turning on his heel and storming into his office, slamming the door shut while leaving me frozen in place, reeling.My heart hammered against my chest. What had just happened? One minute, I was explaining myself, and the next, I was caught in the most unexpected kiss of my life. My lips still tingled, his minty breath still stuck in my mouth and I wiped at them instinctively, trying to erase the sensation and the confusion."Didn't he just go on a date with that model girl his mother chose, Celia or what was her name again?" I muttered to myself, my voice barely above a whisper.But there was no time to dwell on the chaos in my mind. The sharp trill of the off
Emma's Point Of ViewI stood outside the ER window, gripping the edge of the counter like it was the only thing keeping me upright. My vision blurred from the hot tears streaming down my face, but I could still hear the doctor’s voice, steady and commanding, cutting through the chaos: “270! Clear!”The sound of the defibrillator charging pierced the air, and I flinched as the electrical pads made contact with Brandon’s chest. His body jerked violently, but the heart monitor stayed the same, the same painful flatlining, that dreadful, endless beep echoing in my ears.“Again!” the doctor barked.Another jolt, another fruitless attempt.The panic rose in my chest like a tidal wave. My brother. My sweet, brave brother. He couldn’t leave me. Not like this.“Time of death, 4:45 PM.”Those words shattered me. “No! No, no, no!” I screamed, my voice breaking as I pushed past the nurse trying to hold me back. I stumbled into the room, collapsing by Brandon’s still body.“Brandon! No!” I sobbed,
Emma's Point Of ViewThe morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a faint glow across the room. My body felt as heavy as my heart, weighed down by grief that still clung to me like a second skin. Waking up didn’t feel like waking up, it felt like resurfacing from a pit of despair, only to be shoved back under again.Brandon was gone.The words didn’t even feel real yet, but they echoed in my mind like a cruel taunt. My brother, my only family, the one who always had my back, was no more. And now, I was alone in this world, no parents, no sibling, just me. I sat up slowly, every muscle aching as if my emotions had seeped into my physical being.My phone chimed on the bedside table, a small intrusion into my cocoon of grief. Picking it up, I saw the message from the hospital."Miss Carter, kindly visit the hospital to collect Brandon Carter's death certificate and finalize arrangements for his burial." A bitter laugh escaped me. "Arrangements. Death certificate." Words I ne
Adrian’s POVThe sky was overcast, a dull gray, as though the heavens themselves mourned with Emma. I stood by my car, dressed in black from head to toe, my phone pressed to my ear as I spoke to the temporary assistant filling in for Emma. “I specifically asked you to cancel all my meetings for the week. Yet here I am, getting emails from Mr. Rodriguez’s assistant saying he’s on his way to New York. Care to explain that?”Her voice trembled through the line. “Sir, I sent out a bulk email. Maybe he didn’t receive it…”“Maybe?” I cut her off, anger bubbling. “You’re supposed to make sure everything is handled, not guess! Emma wouldn’t make such stupid mistakes, and to think I doubled your pay for this nonsense…”“I’ll call him again and... ”“Don’t you dare. You’ve done enough damage already. Just get your act together before I lose my patience with you.” I hung up and rubbed my temples, trying to reign in the irritation.Movement caught my eye. Emma stepped out of the house, dressed in
Adrian's Point Of ViewI strode out of the elevator, the soft hum of its machinery fading behind me as my gaze instinctively darted toward Emma’s desk. Empty. Of course, it was. Today marked the last of her approved off days. She had insisted on returning two days after Brandon’s funeral, but I refused. Emma deserved more than a rushed return to the mundane chaos of work. Grief wasn’t something that could be tidied up and shelved away like office files. And yet, I found myself missing her presence more than I wanted to admit.Work hadn’t felt the same these past few days. Hell, life hadn’t felt the same. The end of the workday had become my sanctuary, a time when I could let my mind wander toward thoughts of be returning home to her.The familiar sight of my office greeted me, but I stopped short. A figure sat in one of the visitor chairs, legs crossed, perfectly manicured nails tapping against the armrest. Her emerald-green dress was as short as her patience, and as I stepped inside,
Emma's Point Of View I didn’t realize how deeply exhaustion had claimed me until Adrian’s voice broke through my dreams. “Hey, we’re here,” he said softly, shaking me gently. My eyes fluttered open, and I groggily noticed my head resting against his shoulder. Heat flushed my cheeks as I immediately straightened up.“Oh, God, sorry, I must have inconvenienced you all flight” I muttered, fumbling to wipe my cheek.Adrian gave me a lopsided grin. “Yeah, you almost damaged my ear with your loud snoring I'm quite sure people behind us heard you.”“Adrian! I don’t snore!” I shot back, giving his arm a light shove, but my indignation faded as I tried to defend myself. “That’s ridiculous. Brandon would've... ”My voice caught, and the weight of reality hit me like a sledgehammer. Brandon wouldn’t have teased me about snoring or anything else ever again.Adrian’s expression softened instantly. Without a word, he draped his arm around my shoulders. “Come on,” he said quietly, “don’t hold it in
Emma's Point of viewThe sizzle of butter melting on the skillet and the aroma of fresh bread filled the air as I danced through the kitchen, letting the upbeat rhythm of the music on the sound system take over. I wasn’t just making breakfast; I was putting on a show, twirling the spatula in one hand and shaking my hips like I was headlining a concert. The final note of the song played, and I struck an exaggerated pose, laughing at myself."Bravo!"The sound of clapping made me whip around, nearly dropping the spatula. Adrian stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame with a sly grin plastered across his face.“How long have you been standing there?” I asked, cheeks flaming as I tried to feign nonchalance.“Long enough to see Adele's long-lost twin in action,” he teased, walking into the kitchen.I rolled my eyes, a grin tugging at the corners of my lips despite my embarrassment. “Good morning,” I muttered, brushing past him to grab a plate.“Good morning,” he replied, r
Emma’s Point of ViewTonight was supposed to be perfect.Standing before the mirror as the stylists worked their magic on me, I couldn’t help but marvel at how far I’d come. The Steele Charity Ball had always been a highlight of the year, a grand event where the city’s elite gathered to flaunt their wealth under the guise of philanthropy. I’d attended the ball three years in a row as an employee, a mere assistant relegated to the shadows. But this time? I wasn’t just attending, I was running the whole thing as Adrian Steele’s wife.The thought filled me with a heady mix of pride and nerves. Adrian’s support had been unwavering, even when his mother, Evelyn, had thrown a fit about me taking over her long-held position as the event organizer. Adrian had stood firm, demanding she step aside. The memory of his defense warmed me, but Evelyn’s parting words lingered like a shadow: “You won’t last, dear. This world will eat you up alive.”A sharp ringing interrupted my thoughts. I reached fo
Emma's Point of ViewI woke up to the steady rhythm of Adrian's breathing, his chest rising and falling beneath my cheek. This had become my favorite way to start the day, wrapped in his warmth, feeling his arm draped protectively around me. But today wasn't the day to linger. The memory of last night's passion brought a small smile to my lips, but the responsibilities of the day ahead tugged me out of bed.Sliding out carefully so as not to wake him, I padded over to the closet and pulled out a navy-blue sleeveless dress. It was sharp, professional and confident, the energy I needed for today's interviews. Pairing it with a black blazer, stilettos, and my favorite shoulder purse, I laid everything out neatly before heading to the shower.The warm water cascaded over me, but my mind was already racing. This wasn't just about finding the right candidate, it was about proving myself worthy to Adrian, to his mother, and most importantly, to me. I had to get this right.When I stepped out
Emma's Point of ViewThe chill of the morning dew still clung to my skin as I stepped back into my room. I didn’t expect to find anyone there, let alone Adrian, waiting in my room like some brooding storm ready to unload its fury. The sight of him froze me in place. His disheveled hair, the crease in his shirt, he looked like a man who hadn’t slept a wink.But why would he care?I’d spent the morning sitting by Brandon’s grave, letting my tears mix with the cool earth as I whispered my fears to the only person who had never let me down. Brandon had been my anchor, my reminder that I was worth something even when the world made me feel like I wasn’t. But now? Adrian’s actions, his easy belief in his mother’s lies, had left me adrift.“Emma,” Adrian’s voice cut through the haze of my thoughts.“What are you doing in my room?” I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended.Without answering, he closed the gap between us and, before I could pull away, wrapped me in his arms. The embrace ca
Adrian’s Point of ViewMy reflection staring back at me from the mirror wasn’t exactly what I’d hoped to see. My eyes were underscored by dark circles from nights of restless sleep, and the tension in my jaw felt permanent. I adjusted my tie, trying to focus on the day ahead, but my mind was somewhere else or rather, on someone else. Emma.For the past three days, the house had been like a graveyard. Her silence was deafening. I’d catch glimpses of her at a distance, always avoiding me. The space between us felt insurmountable, but I didn’t blame her. I knew I’d crossed a line, siding with my mother without hearing Emma out. I had let my own insecurities and misplaced loyalty blind me.As I grabbed my briefcase and stepped into the hall, I hesitated outside her door. Should I knock? Apologize? The words lingered on my tongue but never left my mouth. Coward. That’s what I felt like. With a sigh, I moved past, trying to shake off the nagging guilt that clung to me.Downstairs, the cook
Emma's Point of View~~Flashback~~I never thought love could hurt this much. Sitting in front of the mirror, towel wrapped around my damp hair, I tried to steel myself against the bubbling anger that refused to subside. Adrian’s footsteps echoed down the hall before the door creaked open, and the moment he walked in, I knew we weren’t going to have a peaceful night.He strode into the room, his briefcase landing heavily on the bed. “Has it gotten to the point where you insult my mother now?”I froze mid-motion, slowly lowering the towel from my hair. “What are you talking about?” My voice was steady, but my heart thudded in my chest.“Don’t act like you don’t know!” he snapped, his hand slicing through the air. “You removed the cake slices my mother wanted just to spite her.”My jaw dropped. “That’s what she told you?” I rose from my seat, incredulous. “Did she mention how it was Celia switched my choice of dessert, calling muffins low-class?”Adrian’s laugh was bitter. “Who even use
Emma's Point of ViewBreakfast should’ve been a calming start to the day, but the tension hung thick in the air, making every bite feel like a struggle. I stared at my plate, pushing scrambled eggs around with my fork as my appetite vanished. Across from me, Adrian sat, his sharp blue eyes darting between me and his coffee cup.“Alright,” he said finally, breaking the silence. “What’s going on, Emma?”I glanced up, feigning a weak smile. “Nothing. Just... stressed. You know, mentally preparing for another delightful day with your mother.”Adrian chuckled softly, though the concern in his eyes lingered. “Come on, she can’t be that bad. My mother's just... strong-willed.”I arched an eyebrow. “Strong-willed? Adrian, she practically lives to tear me down. Every time we’re together, it’s like she’s sharpening knives with her words.”He reached across the table, covering my hand with his. “Then how about you don’t go. Skip the food tasting. Or I can go with you, I’ll handle her. You don’t
Adrian's Point Of View The aroma of coffee and sizzling bacon lured me into the kitchen as I adjusted my tie. Mornings at home had become my favorite part of the day since Emma entered my life. Seeing her moving around the kitchen, her hair pulled into a loose bun and an apron tied neatly around her waist, made everything else fade into the background. “Morning, baby,” I said, slipping my arms around her waist from behind and pecking her cheek. She smelled like lavender and honey, a scent that had become intoxicatingly familiar. “Good morning,” she replied, glancing at me over her shoulder with a soft smile. “What’s for breakfast?” I asked, reluctantly letting her go and sliding into my seat at the table. “Pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs,” she replied, flipping a pancake with practiced ease. The cook stood by the counter, offering assistance when needed, but it was clear Emma was running the show. I smiled, watching her move with a confidence that made me proud. She was
Emma's Point Of ViewThe bathroom was still heavy with the scent of lavender steam as I stepped out, my hair damp and curling over my shoulders. A fluffy towel was tightly secured around me as I crossed the room and sat down at the dresser. My fingers hovered over my collection of skincare products, ranging from toners, moisturizers to serums, a luxury I never thought I would ever afford. Six months ago, the idea of a “night routine” was laughable. My days had been a blur of hospital visits, work, and exhaustion. Picking out a product for my face would’ve been at the bottom of the list.As I opened a drawer to grab my jade roller, my fingers brushed against something familiar. Pulling it out, I saw a photograph of Brandon, his smile frozen in time. My heart clenched. I traced his features on the photo, whispering, “Thanks to you, I got to meet the real Adrian. The man who treats me like a Queen. Without you, I’d still be hating him as my insatiable Casanova boss.”A pang of bitterswee
Emma’s Point Of View The smell of fresh coffee still lingered in the air as I walked into the kitchen, my mind swirling with the morning’s events. Adrian’s quick and simple response to my text, "I’m fine" hadn’t eased my worry, but I knew better than to push him. He’d return when he was ready. Instead of dwelling, I decided to channel my energy into something productive. Lunch. For the first time in my life, I wanted to cook for someone else, for him, my husband.The word still sounded surreal, even in my thoughts. Husband. Six months ago, the very idea of marriage was a distant dream, buried under piles of unpaid medical bills and long, lonely nights trying to make ends meet. And yet, here I was, standing in a sunlit kitchen bigger than my entire apartment used to be, preparing a meal for the man who had turned my life upside down.“Good morning, Mrs. Steele,” the cook greeted warmly, her hands already busy slicing vegetables on the counter.“Good morning, Clara,” I replied with a s