Emerson then continued his voice cold. "Just because I’m going to marry you doesn’t mean you can make decisions for me, or help me make decisions, or tell me how to treat my son. He is my son. I’ve been raising him since he was born, and after his mother left, I raised him all by myself. I know him better than you! You were married for three years, and you couldn’t even figure out how to reach him. You didn't have the slightest idea he was going behind your back until it was too late."His words cut through me, twisting unmercifully inside me."So next time," he went on, each word sharp and deliberate, "just like I told you before we got into this agreement, I am going to remind you again…..don’t make a move without me. And you went ahead and made a huge decision like that without me."I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up, my heart pounding. "You know what, Emerson? I'm not going to sit here and let you talk to me like that. I already quit, and I am not taking it back so deal with
Emerson chuckled softly, his smile almost apologetic. "You think this is funny?" I asked, not amused in the slightest."No, no, it’s not funny," he said quickly, shaking his head. "It’s just… I know Eric, and I know how to handle him. When it comes to Eric and me, whatever we have going on, just let me deal with it. But I am sorry for the things I said to you in my office. It wasn’t fair and I regretted them as soon as they were out of my mouth."I folded my arms, still unsure if I was ready to accept his apology. "Would you please... forgive me?" he added, his voice almost pleading.I looked at him, taking a deep breath. This was the moment where we both understood that the conversation we were having wasn’t just about Eric or the company. It was about us, and how we were going to navigate our relationship from here on out.“I don't know Emmerson. I really don't know what to say to you. You really hurt me. The things you say to me, they really……” “I know, I never should have said
Emerson didn’t move right away, giving me time to recover as I lay there, completely spent. He slowly kissed his way back up my body, his lips brushing against my stomach, my chest, and finally, my neck. When his mouth reached mine again, I pulled him into a deep, heated kiss, tasting myself on his lips, still reeling from what had just happened.I kissed him even harder as I pulled him closer to me and then started grinding myself against him. I was naked down there and he was still in his pants. I pulled him against me as I pulled myself against him trying to get as much friction as I could get from him and his hardness that was clearly unmistakable. He thumped at me as he continued kissing me with one hand on my waist, the other attenuating between my hair, my head, and my thighs. His kisses got even more angrier with every thump. He started giving me as he concentrated his attention on thumping and hitting the spot that was just right on my clit, making me moan and then he would
i put everything inside my car and was just about to get in when emerson stopped me. i looked at him with a questioning expression. "what?""have you had breakfast?" he asked casually."yes, i had breakfast. charlotte brought it for me, a brownie and a cup of coffee," i replied, wondering where he was going with this."let me take you out for brunch," he insisted.i rolled my eyes. "you're so fucking annoying," i muttered with a hidden smile, glancing back up at the blackwind building, feeling a strange sense of finality."come on, please. it's your last day at this company, and i want to make it memorable. i want to make it good, please." he added, his tone softening, almost pleading.i hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "well, since i quit, maybe it’s okay for me to indulge a little." i gave him a small smile. "let’s go."he locked the door and he surprised me by taking my hand as we started heading down the busy street towards a classic modern hotel nearby.the waitress took our
I kept walking, going inside the car as his driver moved to the trunk and started extracting my boxes. As I approached the door, Thomas opened it for me with his plastered-on smile."Thomas, how are you?" I greeted him."I'm okay, miss," he replied. "Are those your stuff? Should I help you with them?""Yeah, maybe you should help me with them. I really have no idea where to put them.""What are they? I'm sorry if I may ask. Do you want me to put them in your room, or do you have somewhere specific you want me to put them?""I don’t know. They’re stuff from work, but I don’t think they’re important enough that I need to hide them in my room. But I also don’t know where you’re going to put them.""Don’t worry about that, miss. I’ll have it taken care of," he assured me with a smile as he started heading towards the car.I got inside the house and, just as I was about to go up the stairs, I remembered Madeline. I decided to go and see her. Just as I turned around, I heard footsteps on t
"You did this?" I asked, still in disbelief at the sight in front of me."Well, I didn’t make it myself," Emerson replied with a shrug. "I just gave them an idea of the office you wanted, the colours you loved, and let them pick a design to surprise you. So, tell me... do you like it?""Do I like it?" I spun around, taking in the entire room. "I love it! You know how much I love orange and purple, my favourite colours,”“ just like the woman," he teased with a wink.I smiled at him, warmth spreading through me. "I love it," I said, as my fingers trailed over the bookcases and the desk. There was something about the way it had been put together—stylish, but also cosy and inviting.I walked towards the large window and looked outside. The lush garden stretched out before me, vibrant with greenery and flowers, the sunlight filtering through the trees. It was breathtaking."It's amazing," I said, my voice soft, turning to face him. "I absolutely love it.""That’s all I wanted," Emerson sa
We both turned our heads toward Thomas, who was now standing there, and I was taken by surprise by the look on his face. I had never seen Thomas angry before. He was always the quiet one, the one who smiled, took instructions, and kept to himself. He never got involved in household matters. So seeing him like this was a shock, but it also made me pause.He shut Rose down with a single look, his voice a little too cold. "Know your place in this house."Without another word, he walked toward me, opening the door to the back garden. "Miss, they’re out there," he said quietly, gesturing toward where Emerson and Madeline were. I could tell Thomas wanted a moment alone with Rose, so I shot her one last look and stepped outside, letting the door close behind me.As I walked down the garden path, I tried to shake off the strange feeling from earlier, but something was still bothering me. The tension was high, not just from Rose’s words but from the whole atmosphere in this house. And yet,
"Someone wrote the word BITCH here. I’m telling you, I saw it with my own eyes. They wrote it here. It’s just here." I pointed insistently. "Am I supposed to have just eliminated it? I’m not making this up. Why would I make it up? It was written right here. B-I-T-C-H. In small little capital letters, right here at the corner."I looked toward Emerson, but there was no reaction on his face. "Emerson, seriously, why would I make this up? And why would someone scratch it? You told me it’s brand new. So, are you telling me I just scratched it by myself? Who scratched it?""Calm down," Emerson interrupted softly, stepping towards me with his usual calmness. He placed a steadying hand on my shoulder. "Calm down, Mia. Take a deep breath. Just breathe."I exhaled slowly, watching him, needing him to believe me, to believe what I saw. And finally, he said, "I believe you."I sighed with relief. "You would never do that.“ Emerson continued, “It’s not in your behaviour, not in your character.
I looked at my mother, and then I found myself looking at her again. The way she was acting towards me—it wasn’t the way a mother should have acted, especially during a heart-to-heart talk like this. She was telling me hard things to digest, things that cut deep, things that felt too raw to be spoken aloud. And yet, she was speaking them without hesitation, without care.I expected something different. Maybe I was asking for too much from my family, but I couldn’t help it. The words left my mouth before I could stop them."Why haven’t you ever loved me?"She froze. Her lips parted slightly, her body stiffening. She stuttered, unprepared for the question. I had caught her off guard again tonight. She hadn’t been expecting it.Neither had I.I had thought about it before—late at night, in quiet moments when I was alone with my thoughts. Mostly as a kid growing up. But I had never said it out loud. Not to her. Not even to myself. But now, standing here, with all the painful truths she h
My mother didn’t back down. "I kind of thought you were marrying him for the money too, but even after you married him, there was no money there to see, and I don’t think there was ever any love between you two. Did you really ever love him?"I was fighting to hold myself together, what the hell was she even saying? "I loved him, Mom, okay?" I snapped back. "I loved him. I loved Eric. He was my whole world. I was working hard for him in everything. I worked hard at home. I worked hard at work. I did his work for him. I worked hard to get pregnant, and I never was….. I…..““ And that was such a blessing." My mother interrupted with a smile.I paused, my throat tightening. "It was such a blessing because when your sister started seeing him, she was happy. Eric was happy. They got pregnant even without trying so hard, the way you were doing with injections and all those tests and the therapies. They just got pregnant naturally, when they weren’t even looking to have a baby. They were
"I’m not saying that, but I did not dictate how she grieved her father. I did not want to be in that commercial!" I clenched my fists, trying to keep my calm. "You’re always acting so high and mighty. You know how much money I spent on your kids? on your education, and then, even after you were all done, you got married to an important man, a rich man, and you still did not want to take care of me. You left me and Your sister to fend for ourselves, after all I did for you…"Her words hit me like a slap. I had already been through this, hearing the same complaints again and again. "I asked you to just give me a month's allowance to help me out in the house, and you send me what? A thousand dollars? What am I supposed to do with it?""Mom," I said, forcing the words out through my frustration. "The money I had...““You had already gotten a good job, you were married to Eric. He moved you into a big house in a good neighbourhood. He even promoted you at work and you were working all th
I blinked at her, stunned by her words. “Get rid of him?” I repeated, my voice filled with disbelief. “What do you mean? Like, kill him? Like in the mafia? You think this is a movie?”I forced a laugh,“Call off the engagement,” she said, her voice Brooking no argument. “Call off the wedding. I want you to break up with him, Nina. End it. Now.”Her words landed like a slap across my face. I stared at her, trying to process the sheer absurdity of what she was saying.Then I thought about how she had begun this order,“Mom,” I said slowly filled with both anger and disbelief, “are you threatening me?”She met my gaze without flinching. “I don’t know how you want to take it,” she replied, her tone icy. “I’m not threatening you. I’m just telling you the truth. Nina, the life you’re building with Emerson is an embarrassment. It’s a disgrace to your father’s memory. He was Emerson’s friend, for God’s sake. They were the same age. He is older than me. Me!”She wasn’t done.“And let’s not eve
She motioned for me to follow her. “We’re still in the process, of course. We’re not done yet. As you can see, we haven’t touched upstairs yet. We’ve started downstairs. The workers are working on the kitchen right now.”She gestured toward the dining area as she spoke. “But it’s a great thing. Look at this,” she said, walking toward the dining room. “We’re done with this area, the seating room, and the tea room. Everything is coming together so nicely. Do you like the dining room? Do you like the setup? I chose it myself.”Her excitement felt oddly misplaced, and her next words made me blink.“Maybe it’s not too late for me to become a decorator of houses, you know, a home makeover guru or something,” she said, half-laughing.“It’s nice,” I said cautiously. “But why? Why change this house? It’s so unrecognizable.”She didn’t respond immediately, so I pressed further. “By the time you’re done with this, I don’t think I’ll even recognize my home. All the memories we had here, as a fam
I knocked on the door a second time. I was expecting my mother to answer the door, her stern expression greeting me, perhaps with a disapproving comment about why I was here so early on her doorstep. But no one came.Maybe she wasn’t home. Maybe this was a mistake altogether. I shouldn’t have come here. The thought suddenly appeared in my head as doubt crept in. I didn’t even know why I was here in the first place. If she did answer, how would I react? Would I stammer? Would she shout? God, I wasn’t in the mood for a shouting match, not today.I sighed and turned around, deciding it was best to leave before I regretted knocking at all. But as my foot hit the first step down, the door creaked open behind me.I froze and turned back. But instead of my mother, I was greeted by a man—a shirtless man.He was young, not quite my age but not far from it, probably a bit older. He stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. His hair was tousled, the kind of messy that suggeste
I sighed,"Honestly, I want to go to bed, okay? You're not an angel. You have gotten on my nerves a lot tonight. I have been mad at you a lot tonight. All I want is some space and sleep," I said, my voice sharp and filled with exhaustion.Then I pulled my hand away from him and started heading into the house.It was really late—so late that I wasn’t expecting anyone to be awake. I opened the door, stepping into the quiet house. Thomas, of course, would already be asleep at this hour. I didn’t bother turning on the lights. My only focus was on making it to bed, without further interruptions.But then, suddenly, the lights flicked on, and Madeline appeared right in front of me."Mina! What's going on? Why are you back so late? What happened? Is everything okay? Is Emerson okay? Where is he? Where's Emerson?" she asked frantically, her eyes darting around and looking behind me as though she expected him to walk through the door any second.Her questions came in rapidly, each one louder t
I had to think quickly, "Because when I got there, the nurses told me that I couldn't leave him alone," I said, exhaling deeply. "He had a concussion. He's not supposed to fall asleep. So I was just there giving him company, and I must have lost track of time. And as you can see, I'm very tired, so I must have dozed off." "And holding hands?" Emerson shot back, "Okay, I cannot take responsibility for that," I replied, holding up my hands defensively. "I was not holding his hand. Maybe I fell asleep before him, and he took my hand, but I was in no way holding his hand. Okay, Emerson? I really need you to trust me right now." His expression softened slightly. "All right, Mina, I trust you. But still—what are you saying? You're saying that this is all over, and you’ve forgiven him? Is that what you're telling me?" I hesitated, knowing how this was going to sound. "I don’t know. But since we’re going to be working together, I don’t think it’s very good for us to have hatred towar
Emmerson hesitated, his words faltering.“What?” I demanded. “What did you find, Emerson?”“I misspoke,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I’m just tired.”“No,” I argued. “Finish what you were going to say. After you found him doing what?”He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “After I found him kissing you.”“You mean when you found us kissing?” I gasped my voice filled with sarcasm.“I misspoke,” he said again, his words coming out in a rush. “I’m sorry. I’m just so damn tired, Mina. But after seeing you holding hands with him, you can’t fault me for wondering what’s going on.”I stared at him. The exhaustion on his face, the frustration in his voice—it all felt too much.“You don’t trust me,” I said quietly, more to myself than to him.“That’s not true,” Emerson said, his voice softening. “I trust you, Mina. But right now, I need to understand. I need to know what’s really happening here.”I didn't say anything. So, he continued."What's going on? Mina, talk to me.