Her Devil Ex

Darren went inside his office and sat on the chair while Emery followed him before standing in front of his desk with her arms crossed and resting on her chest. 

The office exuded a gloomy atmosphere, with a dark grey theme that perfectly complemented Darren's personality.

His dark eyes moved up and down on Emery's red bodycon dress, which hugged her curves perfectly.

“Okay, I'm here. Why did you ask me to come here at this time?" She asked, trying not to sound as mad as she was.

Darren raised his eyebrows while the corner of his lips moved slightly up. "Why did you fight with Camila?"

With a roll of her eyes, Emery gritted out her words, "I didn't fight with anyone; she came to provoke me first and then later ran to you to cry. What’s my fault in all this?

Darren gave an indifferent shrug, and his smug look never left his eyes. "Perhaps you were just jealous and...”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Emery cut him off and spoke angrily, “Why should I be jealous?” 

Darren’s eyes narrowed at her reply; he gave her a sharp look before getting up from his chair. Emery felt her breath stuck in her throat as soon as she saw him getting up. 

Darren walked around the desk as his gaze never left hers. His dark aura filled the room, wrapped in tailored elegance. His suit clung to his frame in all the right ways; his broad shoulders could easily be seen through the suit. 

As he moved closer, the glint in his eyes turned sharper. A faint smirk appeared on his lips as he looked at Emery biting down her lower lip. 

Stopping just inches from her, his voice dropped down low and got rough as it sent shivers down her spine. “I think you forgot your manners.” 

Emery felt her heartbeat getting faster. Even after so many years, he still had that effect on her. 

His breath fanned on her skin, and she felt like her whole body was on fire. 

“You should know I don’t tolerate disrespect coming from any person around me.” 

His hand lightly stroked her bare arm, and instinctively she pushed her body to the other side, causing her to stumble. But before she could fall down on the ground, Darren’s arm snaked around her waist. 

Her waist seemed so petite and fragile in his veiny muscular arms. 

For a mere moment, she was shocked before she tried to free herself from his steel-like grip. 

“Leave me…” She barely managed to get those words out of her mouth. 

“Shush…” 

He looked at her lips for a good moment, like he wanted to devour her right there. Emery was well aware of his gaze on her lips, so she bit down her lower lip, trying to hide it from his vision. 

“Listen to me now and listen well.” He said as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I hired you to handle my agreements, not to make them worse. I don’t want to see you going around fighting with any of my girls.” 

As soon as she heard that, she felt heat rushing to her face. “Control your girls then. Don’t let them come near me if you don’t want any fights.” 

“Mm.. Getting feisty, aren't we?” 

His smirk was still there on his face, and it was somehow annoying Emery. She wanted to slap that smirk out of his face. 

Emery opened her mouth, ready to snap back with a sharp retort, but Darren’s eyes darkened, and his grip on her waist tightened slightly, making her words catch in her throat. 

His expression changed; the teasing glint was now gone, and it was replaced by something much more intense. She felt his fingers dig just a bit harder, reminding her of his strength and his control over her. 

"Did I give you permission to speak?" He murmured, his voice deep and almost a growl as he leaned closer. His lips brushed dangerously close to her ear, his words laced with a warning that made her freeze. 

She could feel the heat of his breath against her skin, while her pulse quickened against her will.

Emery swallowed hard her as he continued, his voice soft yet commanding. "You seem to have forgotten who you're dealing with." His hand moved up her arm, lingering on her shoulder, pressing just enough for her to feel his dominance. "I don’t care what Camila did or what you think is justified. When I say you’ll behave, you will."

She tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened. “I-I wasn’t—” she stammered, but the words died in her throat when he looked down at her with a piercing gaze that left no room for argument. It was like he could see right through her. Every attempt to defy him crumbled under that gaze.

"No excuses," he said, with his hand moving to the small of her back, pulling her even closer. She could feel her knees weaken, the fire in her eyes fading now. “I hired you because I thought you could handle yourself. Prove me right. Or... perhaps you’d like a reminder of what happens when you step out of line?” His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she instinctively looked away, her defiance melting under the force of his authority.

“Okay!” Her voice merely came out. 

With that, he let go of her, and Emery wasted no time before she came out of his office, not giving him time to say something anymore. 

She directly went towards her car, and as soon as she was inside her car, she let out the breath she was holding in. 

Slumping back in her car seat, she covered her face with her hands. “Ahhh, why does my body stop listening to me when he's around?” she muttered. 

She could still feel the warmth of his hands and his gaze lingering on her, as if he’d somehow left an imprint on her.

Dropping her hands, she stared out the windscreen, shaking her head. “I let him dominate me again... What is wrong with me?”

Her fingers tapped restlessly on the steering wheel. “When is this going to stop? When am I going to stop letting him get to me like this?”

Igniting the engine, her car was on the road, and soon she parked it outside her modest apartment building.

As she stepped out of the car, she noticed a figure standing near the entrance, partly obscured by the dim light. He was tall, dressed in a plain black suit, his face darkened by the brim of a dark hat. The sight made her curious. 

“Miss Hart?” He called her, yet his voice was low. 

“Yes?” she replied, unconsciously pulling her coat a bit tighter.

The man approached her, offering a thin black envelope. “A message from the Thornridge family,” he said in a formal tone.

Emery’s eyes narrowed. “From whom specifically?”

He didn’t answer and just pushed the package in front of her. She paused, not knowing what to do, but curiosity won over caution, and she reached out to take it.

The man gave her a polite nod before turning on his heels and walking off.

Her fingers tightened around the envelope as she climbed the stairs to her room.

Once she was inside her apartment, she dropped her bag on a chair. She put the envelope on the small table in her living room, staring at it, still unsure if she should open it or just throw it. 

"What if there is a bomb inside?" she asked herself.

After a moment of thinking, she decided to open it anyway. Removing the wax seal, she saw a bundle of papers inside.

Her inside clenched as she recognised the family symbol stamped at the top.

This was indeed from her family. 

The first page was a list of assets, with each property named in bold black ink. Her family’s heritage, the assets her father had worked so hard to build.

But certain lines were marked in red ink, each name underlined twice. Her hands clenched as she realised what this meant: properties marked for sale.

Her family’s land, businesses, and even her childhood home were all on this list.

She felt anger rising inside her as she flipped through the pages.

“What is he doing?” She whispered under her breath, her voice breaking.

Her stepbrother was selling off major properties, ones her father had clearly stated were to stay within the family. They weren’t just properties to him; they were symbols of his life’s work, investments he had meant to pass on.

Her eyes landed on the final page, where her family home was named in red as well. That house, where she’d grown up, the place where her father had instilled in her the values she held so dearly, was now just another asset to be sold.

Emery swallowed hard; her vision blurred for a moment as anger and sadness mixed within her. It was one thing for her stepbrother to receive her father’s wealth, but this was intentional sabotage, a destruction of everything her father had built.