Chapter 4

Emma felt the weight of the signed contract, its implications looming like a dark cloud. In the taxi, Emma gripped the papers tightly, her hands trembling. She gazed out the window, but her mind was consumed by Lukas and the daunting task ahead.

Her mind clouded with thoughts. Telling him she'd sold herself for his sake? No way. He would never understand; instead, he'd freak out and blame himself. Lying wasn't her style, but this truth was too ugly.

As the taxi pulled up, Emma ran through her story. She'd tell Lukas she landed a great-paying job, leaving out the whole marriage thing. At least not for now until she feels he’s mentally and emotionally ready. 

She paid the driver, took a quick breath outside her apartment, and went in.

Lukas slouched on the couch, flipping channels with a bored expression. Then, seeing Emma, he straightened up and brightened. "Hey," he said softly. “How’d the meeting go?”

Emma forced a smile, trying to sound casual. “I got the job,” she said, holding the documents up like a victory flag.

Lukas blinked, looking surprised. “Really? That’s great! What kind of job?”

Emma hesitated for a split second, then plunged forward. “It’s with a big company. I’ll be helping with... projects. It’s a little complicated, but the pay is good. Enough to cover our feeding for a long time and also your medications.”

Lukas eyes widened with joy, knowing how hard Emma has been trying to get a job considering she had been distracted with him in the hospital all this while. 

“I’m so happy, Emma; I can even see the joy on your face as well,” he laughed as he poked her cheek.

Emma hugged him closely. It's been a while since she saw him happy and smiling like he did today.

“Yes, Lukas, I am happy. Even though the job is demanding, I wouldn't get to spend more time with you. I will hire a nanny immediately.”

The smiles on Lukas face faded instantly; because he preferred Emma being around him. But she has to work for them to be able to keep up with survival.

He had to be happy for her regardless of the disadvantages. He gripped Emma by the hand looking directly into her eyes  “Emma... I don’t know what to say. Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

If only you knew. The thought stung, but Emma pushed it aside, smiling softly as she sat next to him. “Of course I did. We’re family.”

The next morning, being a Saturday, Emma's phone woke her early. She grabbed it, still blinking away sleep.The soft chime of her phone interrupted Emma's sleep. She reached for it, her eyes slowly focusing.

A text from Ryan: “Be ready in an hour. We need to start the plan. I'll pick you up."

Emma groaned, tossing the phone back down. Does he have to be so… cold? It had barely been a day since she signed away her life, and already, Ryan was in control.

She rubbed her temples, her stomach twisting at the thought of seeing him again. There was no turning back, no running from the consequences now.

The thoughts clouded her mind as she opened her wardrobe looking for what to wear. This was her first outing with her supposed husband and she needed to be stunning.

Finally she saw a nice dress that would be great for the occasion. Knowing that was sorted, she stepped into the bathroom to shower.

Shortly, the horn honked outside her window, and Emma stood up to peek. It was Ryan; it was exactly an hour from when he sent her the text; ‘I guess he's that punctual as well,’ she mumbled. She signaled to him that she would be out soon.

She slipped into her brother's room, finding him still asleep. To avoid waking him, she left a note beside his bed.

‘Nurse Martha would come take care of you take you. I would be working late at my new job. Love you.’

Emma sighed, and she picked up her bag and stepped outside to meet Ryan, whose expression was too serious as she entered into the vehicle.

Ryan's friends occupied a private booth, eyeing Emma as they entered. Their appraisal was unmistakable, and Emma struggled to maintain her poise. James, Ryan's best friend, and the owner of the lounge smiled. "Hey, Miller! Surprised to see you here today."

Ryan giggled and sat beside Emma, his arm casually wrapped over the back of her seat. “Everyone, meet Emma.” His voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it—like he was daring them to question her presence.

Emma smiled tightly, feeling their eyes on her, appraising her. “Nice to meet you all,” she said, her voice steady despite the knot of nerves in her chest.

Ryan's friends were making small talk, but Emma could sense the skepticism. They'd slip in little digs, checking if she could handle herself. Every so often, they'd glance at Ryan, like they were wondering if he'd lost his mind and made the right choice.

But just when Emma thought she was getting through the evening unscathed, the atmosphere shifted. The door to the bar swung open, and suddenly, a tall figure strode in with an air of authority into the VIP lounge. “You can't be in here; this is a private event, sir,” the guard said. But Alexander Dumas pushed past him. “It would only be a minute.” 

“I thought I saw you come in, Ryan. What, you are here to drink your problem away?” He laughed with a hint of mockery in his eyes.

“What problem would that be?” Ryan fired back, his voice laced with anger.

“Well, a little birdy told me someone got fired from your own company, and that someone is you. You must really suck at your job to get fired by your own grandfather.” 

“Who is that?” Emma asked with curiosity about the moment. “It's Alexander Dumas, Ryan’s biggest competitor, both bidding for the Synagog Plaza project in Los Angeles.” James responded as he whispers into Emma's ear.

“Now that you are no longer CEO of Miller Enterprise,” Alexander chuckled. “Do you really think you can stand a chance against me for the…” 

Ryan countered him immediately, "If you want to talk business, talk to my secretary and make a meeting, but if you’re here to measure dicks, I suggest you grow a pair of balls first.”

You,” Alexander's gaze lingered on Emma, his brow furrowing in recognition. “Wait... I know you, don’t I?” His voice was soft, but the accusation was sharp.

Emma’s heart skipped a beat. No. Impossible. She kept her face still, praying he didn’t recognize the panic in her eyes.

Ryan’s grip on the glass tightened, observing the tense silence of the entire bar as a result of the question. He leaned forward, his jaw clenched. “What are you talking about, Dumas?”

Alexander’s smirk widened, but he said nothing more, turning away with a lingering look at Emma that sent a shiver down her spine.

Ryan shot Emma a glance, his voice low and cold. “Why does he think he knows you?”