But the real question is—how far is he actually willing to go?“Hello, Taki. Here’s what I want you to do,” Trey says into his phone, his voice smooth, calculated. “Get the video. The police report. Get those eyewitnesses—the waitress from the restaurant. Yes, do a whole spread. Make sure a person living under a rock gets it. My mother will handle the legal stuff.”I grip the door handle, ready to leave. Ready to walk away.But something stops me.Am I really doing this?I know I’m furious with Emerson. Beyond furious. But am I really ready to leave, knowing what I’d be leaving behind?Would I be able to go away with a clear conscience?Some people would say it has nothing to do with me. That, it’s not my problem. It's not my fault that Emmerson acted that way……But I feel responsible.If I hadn’t been in that position with Trey, Emerson wouldn’t have acted the way he did.He thought Trey was assaulting me.And yes—Trey was assaulting me.And Emerson? He was just trying to protect me.
“Come on, let's go,” Trey says as he takes my bag and starts helping me out of the door.But the moment he takes it, he shakes it and says, “What’s in here? It’s so light. Do you even have any clothes in there?”“It’s fine,” I tell him, trying to brush it off.But then Trey, being Trey, suddenly changes direction from leaving the house to getting back inside. He puts the bag on top of the sofa and then just opens my luggage like it belongs to him.“Trey, what are you doing?” I ask, my voice rising. “Why are you opening my suitcase?”“I want to see what you packed in here,” he says, completely unaffected by my reaction. “You’re a girl. I know how girls and clothes are, and this is too light. It’s almost like there’s nothing in there.”I rush to stop him, but he’s already opened the suitcase, revealing the meagre pieces of clothing inside. I can’t help but feel embarrassed as I see the sad, barely there pile of clothes he’s uncovered.He looks at me with disbelief, shaking his head. “
My words feel like a final statement, a line I’m drawing between us. I don’t need his approval, his advice, or his version of what love should be.I push his hand away, and he watches me with that look I can’t quite decipher—it's like he's trying to figure me out, studying me. I hate that look, but I don’t care anymore.Without another word, I walk past him, determined to leave, to get out of this suffocating space. As I move toward the door, I hear him let out a slow, almost amused chuckle, as if he finds something about this situation funny. I don’t turn back to find out.He closes the door behind us with a soft click, and I hear the distinct sound of him grabbing my suitcase, and dragging it behind me as I walk ahead. I keep my head high, forcing myself to appear calm, to put on a brave face. Inside, though, I am a storm of emotions.I start walking toward the mansion as if I have a sense of direction as if I even know where Tristan parked his car. But the truth is, I’m just walkin
I don’t know if it’s the way he enunciates father-in-law or the way he says it, but whatever it is, I suddenly go bright red.Because he says it in a way I can’t even explain.Is it sarcastic?Is it meant to be funny?Is there some hidden meaning behind it?Or is he just being Trey—annoying, unpredictable, and impossible?The word itself is filled with ambiguity. And instead of standing there to analyze it, I do the only thing my brain tells me to do—get in the car.Fast.I don’t even wait for Trey to close the door. I slam it shut myself, so quickly that I actually startle him. He chuckles, That freaking idiot.Trey, of course, is completely unbothered. He just strolls toward the driver’s seat, casual as ever, while I sit there wishing I could get away from here faster.And then, as if this situation couldn’t get any worse, Trey salutes Emerson.Yes. Salutes.Like this is some joke like he’s enjoying himself.And still, Emerson doesn’t say a word. He just stands there, watching. Sile
I might or might not have fallen asleep in the car.Why?Because that’s what Trey said when I woke up, and I don’t trust Trey—not even a little bit.One minute, I was fuming at him, staring out the window, trying to drown him out. The next, he was shaking me awake, and I had no idea where we were. I blinked, rubbing my eyes, and took in my surroundings.We weren’t at his place. We weren’t at a hotel. And by the looks of it, Trey didn’t live in a restaurant either.“What are we doing here?” I ask, my voice groggy.Trey leans against the open car door, smirking. “I thought you could eat.”“And who told you I haven’t eaten?”He shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe your stomach—which, by the way, was growling while you were snoring.”I sit up straighter, narrowing my eyes. “I did not snore.”Trey grins. “Oh, you snore.”“I did not.”“You so did.”“Trey, just stop it, okay?” I snap. “I’m not in the mood.”He raises his hands in surrender. “Okay. But we’re still eating.”“I don’t—”“I don’t care
That morning, I woke up with a raging headache.My stomach is uneasy, and there’s this awful taste in my mouth. I groan, then rush to the bathroom.By the time I step out, I find Treyson in my room.He's holding a tray of breakfast and smiling like he belongs here.I blink. Then I look at the door. Then at him again."How did you get in?"He shrugs. "I walked through the door.""Yes, and I locked it last night. How did you get in?"He smirks and brushes off my question."Here. I brought you breakfast."I sigh and sit down on the bed. My headache is pounding."Are you okay?" he asks."No. My head is killing me. Do you have some painkillers?""Oh! I'll be right back!"He disappears and returns with painkillers and a glass of water.I take them quickly, then turn back to him."Seriously, Trey. How did you get in my bedroom?"He grins. "As I told you yesterday, this is my house. I know how to get in any door. You can’t keep me out."I stare at him."That is so creepy."He waves a hand dis
By the time we got back to Trey's penthouse, I wasn’t as furious as I had been when we left. I was still in a semi-not-good mood, but at least I wasn’t ready to throw Trey out of his own penthouse anymore. Naturally, he took advantage of my slightly better mood and started coaxing me into going to a restaurant with him for dinner. Adding that he had already made reservations.I was just about to give in when, on our way there, we passed a food truck selling burgers. And that was it for me.“I want one,” I announced.Trey groaned. “Are you serious? We’re on our way to a restaurant. Better food and better environment.”“I don’t care,” I said, already making my way toward the truck. “I’m getting a burger. Then we can go to your fancy restaurant.”He sighed heavily as if this was the greatest inconvenience of his life. But, of course, he couldn’t just sit there and watch me eat alone. So, begrudgingly, he ordered one too.And then another.And then another.By the time we were done, I tur
I slumped back into my seat, lifting the champagne glass to my lips. The music around me, the crowd below moving in with the beat. But I wasn’t paying attention anymore.Trey was still downstairs with the blonde beauty.I took another sip, then another.I didn’t know how long I sat there, lost in my own thoughts, but suddenly, my stomach twisted. I was suddenly nauseous, and before I could process it, I was on my feet, rushing toward the VIP restroom.The moment I reached the toilet sink, I started vomiting.It was relentless. I emptied everything I had eaten, my stomach lurching violently, rejecting it all. Even when there was nothing left, I kept heaving—dry, painful retches that left me gasping for air. Sweat dripped down my back, soaking my clothes, making my skin feel clammy.I was a mess.My legs gave out, and I sank onto the cold tile floor, my body trembling. I couldn’t move. My limbs felt too heavy, my mind too foggy. My mouth tasted awful, sour and bitter from the vomit, but
Mina I was in the delivery room about to bring my baby into this world, and who knew it hurt like hell? Mmh! I was very lucky and very grateful to have my husband here with me. He kept holding my hand, telling me sweet things, and encouraging me when the doctors told me to push. He pushed with me, breathed with me. It was kind of crazy. I don't know, maybe after I was done here I would think about this moment and laugh about it. It was a moment in my life when I really needed him, and I was so, so happy and so grateful to have him here beside me. The two doctors that Mr. Emerson insisted on having here were top in their fields. He didn’t care, he had to fly one in as long as I got everything and I was in great hands. The doctors were great, they were encouraging. I just wanted this moment to be over and for my baby to come into this world so I could hear their cry. We were still in the dark; we didn’t know if we were having a girl or a boy. I was just waiting for that moment wh
EmmersonThe next morning, I decided to handle things myself. I know Mina’s already been through enough trauma with her family, so I don’t want to involve her in this. She’s still asleep, and I slip out quietly to deal with Eric.I find him at the hotel, slumped over, still asleep. I nudge him with the toe of my shoe, the force making him stir. Slowly, his eyes flicker open, and the haze of sleep and alcohol makes him groggy. He rises, blinking and groaning, his hand clutching his head."Wake up, Eric," I tell him as I open the curtains, letting the bright light flood the room. He immediately shields his eyes, groaning louder."My head... hurts," he mutters, his voice thick with a hangover. He grabs the bottle of water on the bedside table and gulps down a large portion in one go."Last night," he laments, "I didn't like how your men dragged me out of that nightclub.""You call that a nightclub? It was a strip
EmmersonOh yeah?” Mina’s voice is a little high-pitched.And then Rita says something that makes my blood cold.“Of course,” she replies, her voice dripping with arrogance. “I mean if I could take Eric from you so easily before… When you weren’t this heavily pregnant, and we weren’t even living in the same house. Just think how simple it would be to take his father from you now.”Her voice is low and suggestive. Mina scoffs, maybe out of shock, but Rita doesn’t stop.“I mean, look at you,” she continues, mockingly. “You’re pregnant. You can’t even walk properly without someone holding you. You have to be carried just to get around.” She chuckles,“And me?” she adds. “I’m just getting started. The exercises I’ll do, the maintenance I’ll keep up… You know I won't be breastfeeding, right? This baby is feeding from the bottle. Nothing is messing up this....hot body.”In my mind, I can already picture her motioning to her bo
Emmerson By nightfall, the police have already paid us a visit. It’s all over the news. Madeline had a little accident on the highway. Her car hit the side of a bridge and went down under. She suffocated. But I know the truth. Let her feel what it’s like to lose air. Anyway, the point is—she’s dead. The police came because, after her attack on Mina, there was already a record of her actions. They were just here to deliver the report. To tell us that she was gone. That also settled the issue with Rose. Mina had never been convinced that Rose was behind it, and now that Madeline was out of the picture, it was clear she had been wrongfully accused. Mina was shocked with the news, I never thought she would actually be upset after everything. Even though there’s still sadness in her eyes, I can see the difference. She’s no
EmmersonAfter I had taken Mina home, I gave her a bath, making sure she was okay and taken Care of. She was reluctant to eat at first, but I insisted. “You need nutrition,” I reminded her. “I know you don't want to but do it for the baby. You’re pregnant, you're doing it for our baby.”She sighed, but eventually gave in, taking small sips of the warm soup I had prepared. I watched her closely, ensuring she had everything she needed. Then, I sat her down and gently caressed her hair.I kept talking as I did it—about everything and nothing at the same time. Just filling the silence, making sure she felt covered and safe. My voice was low and comforting. I caressed her head, feeling the softness of her scalp, letting her know she wasn’t alone.And then, she fell asleep.Once I was sure she was deep in rest, I finally allowed myself to feel it all—the anger, the frustration, the overwhelming sense of failure.How could I h
As Emerson's voice continued on the phone, offering words of comfort, trying to calm me, I felt my tears flow faster. I couldn't hear him clearly anymore over the noise in my head, the panic, the certainty that I was going to die. I just listened to him, letting his voice be a thread tying me to something.Then, the banging stopped.I hadn't even realized it.Instead, a knock. A soft, reassuring knock."Mina, Mina, come on, open the door," Emerson's voice came through the phone, clearer now.I still didn’t understand what was happening. My mind was so clouded by fear, but hearing his voice… it soothed me in ways I couldn’t explain. I was barely aware of his words, just the sound of him calling my name, telling me it was okay."Emerson, is that you?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper."Yes, it's me. Open the door, Mina."The reality of it hit me. I had been trapped in a nightmare, my heart frozen with terror, bu
I started scribbling on the piece of paper.[I can't do this anymore. I'm going to kill myself.]I set the pen down and exhaled. "Okay, I'm done."Madeline narrowed her eyes. "What did you write so fast?"She stalked toward me, snatched the paper out of my hands, and read it. Her expression darkened, and before I could brace myself, she slapped me hard across the face. The force nearly knocked me out of the chair.A sharp sting spread across my cheek, my vision blurred for a second. My entire face tingled from the impact, and I gritted my teeth, refusing to let a single tear fall.Who knew I would ever be in this situation? Kidnapped at gunpoint. Forced to write my own suicide letter.Madeline took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. Then she smirked."You're smart, Mina. We can argue about a lot of things, but not that. You're a smart little thing, a devious little thing. That’s how you got Emerson i
Madeline’s grip on my arm became almost painful. I could feel the gun on my side, like a silent, invisible threat.I forced a laugh, shaking my head. "Oh, you know... My condition." I gestured vaguely at myself. "It’s still hard for me to get up, takes a while to get out of bed. I was sleeping."Tom stared at me, his eyes searching my face as if he was trying to read through my words.Then, finally, he gave a slow nod. "Okay."But he still didn’t leave."Can I come in?" he asked. "I can give you some company.""No!" The word shot out of my mouth too fast, too loud, too desperate.Madeline pressed the gun against my side, a silent threat, a warning that made my blood turn cold.Tom’s frown deepened.I forced another smile, shaking my head quickly. "I mean—no, it’s okay. I was sleeping. I don’t need company right now."I gave an awkward laugh, motioning toward the inside of the apartment. "If you came in, you’d just be sitting alone because I’m going back to bed."Tom didn’t look conv
"I'm sorry, Madeline, I swear I didn’t—""Just tell me why!" she shouted to my face, her voice filled with frustration.I was shaking, my throat dry, my mind running a mile a minute. "I don't know, okay? Maybe because he was there. He was nice. He was understanding, and he made me feel safe. He made me happy. He made me feel like I could be the person I wanted to be." My voice cracked, and I rushed to explain, desperate for her to believe me. "It was never about his age, Madeline. I always thought he was cute, you know? I always thought he was really handsome. And then when we slept together, I realized I could have everything I ever wanted with him, okay? I'm sorry. I really didn’t know—"She let out a cold laugh, cutting me off. "You're not sorry. Stop trying to act like some innocent girl who thought he was ‘the one.’"Her voice was mocking, twisting my words into something dirty."You don’t even love him. Not really. You love the things he represents." She took a step closer, he