Emily's POVI’m still adjusting to life without Adrian. The days are long, filled with the mundane rhythm of work and the quiet hum of my apartment. I fill my time with meetings, deadlines, and the occasional late-night brainstorming session with my colleagues. Each day, I inch closer to reclaiming the independence I had lost in the whirlwind of our entangled lives.But the shadow of Adrian’s rival still looms large. The fallout from the scandal is a spectacle, and I can’t help but watch as the media unravels the sordid details. It’s fascinating and horrifying, a reminder of how deeply rooted the corruption is in our industry. I sip my coffee, scrolling through headlines, noting the subtle ways Adrian’s name flutters through the articles, like a ghost that refuses to be laid to rest.At a recent company function, someone asks about my history with him, and I carefully craft my response. “We had a professional relationship,” I say, my tone measured. Inside, though, memories cascade—his
Emily’s POVI had thrown myself into preparing for the merger, determined to keep things professional. But Adrian's presence had disrupted my focus every time. We had been forced to spend long hours together, working through details and strategies. As we poured over documents one afternoon, a team member had interrupted us, bearing news that Camille’s scandal had reached the media, with Adrian’s name barely brushing the surface. The revelation had forced us both to reconsider our priorities.I had watched as the weight of the news settled on Adrian, though he had refused to admit it. Our shared frustration over Camille's plotting had brought us closer, and I had begun questioning my previous assumptions about Adrian’s cold demeanor. My anger toward him had started to shift, replaced by a mixture of pity and reluctant respect.“Do you think I wanted this mess?” Adrian had snapped, his voice tinged with exasperation. “Camille’s made sure it’s all tied back to me somehow.”“Maybe if you
Emily’s POVClaire was just settling into the couch, a hand resting protectively over her small but growing bump, her face alight with a hopeful grin as she recounted the latest gossip on Camille's impending trial."See? Karma," Claire said, grinning as she sipped her decaf coffee. "Camille finally overplayed her hand, and now she’s right where she deserves to be."I forced a small smile, trying to absorb Claire's positivity, but a nagging feeling lingered. “You think it’s over?” I murmured, the thought slipping out.Claire scoffed. “She’s done. Even Adrian had to cut her loose, right?”"Yeah," I agreed, but the unease persisted, prickling at the edges of my mind. Camille had always been cunning—sneaky enough to have a backup plan. Even in ruin, she didn’t seem like the kind of person to just disappear quietly.A sudden vibration broke the silence, and I glanced at my phone, realizing Adrian’s name was flashing on the screen. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I quickly turned it face down,
Emily’s POVDespite the lingering sympathy I’d felt for Adrian after his confession, I had to keep my focus. I threw myself into my work, pouring over contracts and project details, determined to avoid the vortex Adrian had created in my life. But no matter how far I tried to distance myself, trouble seemed to follow.News broke that morning—a scandal, one that I never saw coming. False documents, forged to look authentic, were circulating. The documents hinted at a cover-up involving my company, linking me personally to under-the-table deals with Adrian’s rival. It was a complete lie, a fabrication meant to dismantle the credibility I’d fought to build back up after my divorce.Calls poured in from every corner: board members, investors, even reporters. I could barely keep up with my own breath. The weight of betrayal and fear tightened in my chest as I scanned the headlines. How could anyone believe this?Then, as if right on cue, Adrian showed up.Scene Transition: Confrontation wi
Emily’s POVI stared at the nearly empty wine bottle on the table, its deep red contents mocking me, taunting me for the mess I’d managed to turn my life into. I took another gulp, my words slurring as I muttered to no one, “Unfair... it’s all so damn unfair. Here I am, trapped between... between a rock and a hard place, with a man who never lets me forget he’s there.”The only response was the echo off the cold, gray walls and the occasional rumble of thunder outside, as if the universe was reminding me that it, too, had no sympathy for my plight. Rain began tapping against the window, its rhythmic patter mingling with my own growing bitterness. I finished the wine in another swig, the burn making my eyes water as I grumbled into the empty space, “Why can’t anything just... just be simple?”Eventually, the bottle slipped from my fingers, and I drifted into a restless, alcohol-induced haze.The next morning was an assault to every one of my senses. The sunlight piercing through my blin
Emily’s POVClaire dragged me to the one restaurant in the city I’d ever managed to eat at without grimacing. My picky taste buds meant it was no easy feat to find somewhere I didn’t feel nauseous from the food. But as I looked at Claire, who was already ordering her usual mountain of different dishes with wild flavor combinations, I couldn’t help but chuckle.“Honestly, Claire,” I teased, shaking my head. “I don’t understand how someone as tiny as you can eat so much... and in the weirdest combos known to man! How does anyone handle pickles and pasta on the same plate?”She shrugged and grinned, unfazed. “It’s called ‘craving creativity.’ You should try it sometime.”After a delicious, laughter-filled meal, we returned to the office, where Claire insisted on helping me get through my never-ending pile of work. With every file she passed over or glass of water she handed me, I’d say, “Thank you, Claire,” and each time, she’d respond with a playful, “Oh, don’t mention it. You’d do the s
Emily's POVThe club was buzzing with energy, neon lights flashing in every direction as Claire and I stepped inside. We hadn’t even made it two steps before we hit a wall—the bouncer, a hulking man who’d been eyeing us since we entered.He looked Claire up and down, his gaze zeroing in on her baby bump. “What’s a pregnant woman doing here?” His tone was sharp, dismissive. “Maybe hookers should stay home once they start growing balloons.”My stomach clenched, and I felt Claire stiffen beside me. Here we go.Claire’s eyes blazed with a fury I recognized all too well. “Excuse me?” she snarled, her voice louder than the music pulsing in the background. “I don’t care if you’re twice my size—you better apologize before I make you regret it.”I tried to step between them, hands raised in a plea. “Look, let’s just calm down, okay?” I begged, darting glances between Claire’s glare and the bouncer’s unimpressed sneer. “We don’t need a war here. Let’s just…come to a truce?”But Claire wouldn’t
Adrian’s POVI barely noticed Vincent walking into my office, too lost in my thoughts to register anything until he was practically breathing down my neck. My eyes were fixed on the screen, but the words blurred together. In my mind, only one thing was crystal clear—Emily. That same defiant glint in her eyes from last night haunted me, like she was challenging me to even try to understand her. She was everywhere—written all over my files, and it seemed, all over me.It wasn’t until Vincent leaned over my shoulder and started reading aloud that I realized I’d typed her name into nearly every document on the screen. Worse, the stack of documents I’d signed in her name—some of them crucial contracts—sat in a disarray on my desk. My heart thudded as I met Vincent’s gaze.“For crying out loud, Adrian,” he said, his tone cool and restrained, though I could feel the frustration simmering beneath his words. His eyes flicked between the papers, his mouth set in a hard line. “Do you realize wha
Emily's POVAdrian’s hands were all over me the second the rooftop doors clicked shut behind us. My back hit the cold wall, and I let out a startled laugh, muffled when his lips claimed mine again.“Adrian,” I gasped between kisses, trying to catch my breath, “we’re still... still outside.”He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. “Then let’s go inside before I make you scream right here.”The boldness of his words sent a wave of heat straight to my core. I let him pull me down the hallway, his hand firmly gripping mine, his stride full of purpose. We barely made it into the bedroom before his mouth was on mine again, hungry and unrelenting.I fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, my fingers trembling from both the intensity of the moment and the sheer need coursing through me. When I finally tugged the fabric open, he shrugged it off impatiently, and I couldn’t help the soft giggle that escaped my lips.“What’s funny?” he murmured against
Emily's POVI watched Claire’s face light up as the doctor gave her the all-clear to go home for the night. “You can return tomorrow for the tests,” he said, his tone calm but firm, “but make sure you rest.”Just as relief started to ease the lines on her face, Vincent spoke up. “Someone needs to stay with her. She’s pregnant, and I’m not leaving her alone.”I rolled my eyes. Typical Vincent. I admired his protective streak, but sometimes it was too much. “I’m here,” I said firmly. “I can stay with her.”Claire shook her head, her lips curving into a gentle smile. “Emily, you have work tomorrow. You’ve already done enough for me today.”“But—”Claire raised a hand to stop me. “Don’t argue with me.” Her tone was soft but resolute. “Go home, freshen up, and come back tomorrow.”Her words stung, though I couldn’t exactly say why. I leaned in closer, lowering my voice to a near whisper. “And where’s your... military boyfriend in all of this?” I asked, careful not to draw Vincent’s attenti
Emily's POVThe vineyard was enchanting, a private oasis where time seemed to stand still. I couldn’t help but feel at peace as Adrian’s piercing gaze held mine. He had a way of making everything else disappear, and in that moment, I wanted to let him in—fully.We sat on the soft picnic blanket, our wine glasses glinting under the fading sunlight. “So, tell me,” Adrian said, his voice warm and inviting. “What’s your dream, Emily? What do you want out of life?”His question caught me off guard, but the sincerity in his eyes encouraged me to open up. “I want... more than just success,” I began, my fingers tracing the rim of my glass. “I want to create something lasting, something that matters. A business that supports people, helps them grow. And maybe one day…” I hesitated, feeling vulnerable under his scrutiny.“Go on,” he urged gently.“Maybe one day, a family. But only if it’s with someone who sees me as an equal, someone who... values me for me.”His expression softened, and for a
Emily's POVI woke up to the soft light of morning filtering through the curtains, warming the edges of the bed. Stretching languidly, I let the events of the last few days wash over me. Adrian—his intensity, his protectiveness, and that maddening charm of his—was all I could think about.But my responsibilities called, tugging me back to reality. The hotel wouldn’t run itself, and I had left so much undone. My team deserved more than me hiding away, no matter how tempting it was to let Adrian keep me cocooned in his world.As I made my way to breakfast, I resolved to convince him I needed to return to work. Easier said than done, I realized when his piercing gaze met mine over the table.“You’re not going back without security,” he said before I could even get the words out. His tone left no room for argument.I tried to keep my voice calm, measured. “Adrian, I’ll be fine. Really. I’ll be careful.”“That’s not enough,” he replied, his voice softening but still firm. “Emily, I can’t t
Emily's POVI woke slowly, the warmth of the sheets cocooning me, creating a shield against reality. The faint ache in my body was a bittersweet reminder of everything that had transpired—fear, rescue, and the man who refused to let me face any of it alone. Adrian. His presence lingered in the air, as palpable as the cedar and citrus scent that clung to the bedding.The room around me wasn’t mine. It was too masculine, too pristine, yet somehow inviting in its simplicity. My gaze drifted to the bedside table, where a note sat propped against a steaming cup of tea."You’re safe here. Rest. I’ll be back soon."The sight of it made my chest tighten. He’d thought of everything, even my favorite tea. As I reached for the cup, its warmth seeped into my hands, steadying me. The taste was familiar, soothing, but it did little to calm the storm inside me. How could someone so powerful, so complicated, care this much?The sound of the door opening startled me, and I turned just as Adrian steppe
Emily’s POVWhen I woke, the first thing I noticed was the faint golden light streaming through the curtains. It painted the room in warm hues, but the warmth didn’t extend to my chest. There was a dull ache there, a reminder that the horrors of last night hadn’t been a nightmare.I sat up slowly, my muscles stiff and aching, and the events of the previous evening washed over me like a cold wave. The hands that had grabbed me. The cruel laughter. The helplessness. My chest tightened, and I clenched my fists against the surge of emotions threatening to drown me.But then I remembered him.Adrian.My gaze flicked to the chair by the window, where he had sat the last time I drifted off, his presence a silent shield against my spiraling thoughts. But now, the chair was empty.He’s gone.The thought was like a knife twisting in my gut. I shouldn’t have expected him to stay. He had done enough, hadn’t he? Stayed through the worst of it, comforted me when I couldn’t even face myself. It wasn
Adrian’s POVThe silence in the penthouse was unnerving. My steps echoed faintly as I moved through the dimly lit space, the weight of the night pressing down on me. Emily lay asleep in my bed, her delicate form wrapped tightly in the blankets, as if shielding herself from the world. Her face was calm now, a stark contrast to the fear and pain I’d seen etched into it only hours ago.My hands curled into fists at the memory. Those bastards had dared to lay a hand on her—to hurt her. Rage simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over, but I forced myself to exhale slowly, grounding the storm. I couldn’t afford to lose control now. Not when she needed me steady.I sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb her, though my gaze lingered on the faint bruises marring her skin. Her breathing was soft, even, a rhythm I found myself syncing to as the tension in my body eased ever so slightly.But the guilt? That didn’t fade.I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees
Adrian’s POVThe rain lashed against the windows of the penthouse, each droplet pounding as if it were trying to pierce through the glass. The storm outside mirrored the tempest inside me—a raging, relentless fury that no amount of whiskey could dull.I stood in the living room, swirling the amber liquid in my glass, but its heat did nothing to thaw the icy anger gripping my chest. Emily was safe now—that fact should have been enough. Yet every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. Bound. Bruised. Terrified.My Emily.The image tore through me, a fresh wound every time it resurfaced. They had dared to touch her, dared to hurt her, and now every fiber of my being demanded retribution.My knuckles throbbed, the raw skin splitting where I had thrown punch after punch. The satisfying crunch of bones under my fists should have brought me some peace. It hadn’t. Not when there were still unanswered questions. Not when I knew the threat wasn’t over.“Adrian.”Her voice was soft, hesitant, yet it
**Emily’s POV** The rain poured relentlessly, soaking me to the skin as I thrashed weakly against the ropes binding my wrists. My heart pounded in my chest, and every slap of thunder echoed the terror racing through my veins. I screamed until my throat felt raw, my voice lost in the howling wind. “Shut her up!” one of the men growled, raising his hand again. I braced for the impact, but the sharp sting across my face was no less shocking. I bit my lip to keep from crying. They couldn’t see my tears. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. But I was losing hope. The dark room, the rough voices, the oppressive weight of fear—I didn’t think I’d make it out of here whole. Then I heard him. “EMILY!” Adrian’s voice cut through the rain like a blade. It wasn’t a call—it was a command, filled with frantic desperation and unyielding fury. “Did you hear that?” one of the men hissed, stepping toward the door. Another laughed. “Doesn’t matter. He’ll be dead before he gets to her.”