Author's POV Lena stormed into the room, tossing her designer bag onto the couch with a frustrated huff. Her heels clicked sharply against the hardwood floor as she paced, hands clenched into fists. Her mother, seated in the plush armchair with a cup of tea, raised an eyebrow. "What happened, Lena?" Lena turned to face her, eyes blazing with anger. "I have never been more disappointed in my life." Her mother sighed, setting the teacup down. "Why? What happened this time?" Lena let out a bitter taste laugh. "Can you believe Rayian kicked me out of his house?" Her mother’s face tightened. "What were you doing there in the first place?" Lena rolled her eyes, exasperated. "What do you think? I was trying to get closer to Emma so she could help me get a job at his company. But guess what? Rayian outright refused. And do you know what he said?" She crossed her arms, mimicking his deep voice. "'No! We have no job openings...' What the hell does that even mean?" Her mother exha
Lucas Maverick How the hell did I end up in this mess? Here I was, standing in a dimly lit hotel room, staring at a masked woman who had just demanded a favor from me—something beyond money. She claimed to know my secrets, every single one, and threatened to expose our little affair if I didn't comply with her demands. I ran a hand through my hair, frustration coursing through me. Who the hell was she? And what did she want from me? The woman smirked as if she could read my thoughts. Then, slowly, she unraveled her mask. My stomach dropped. Emma's sister."Aren't you...?" I started, my mind racing to piece everything together. "Yes," she confirmed before I could say it. What the fuck? Weren't they from a decent home? Wasn't Emma supposed to be the perfect, innocent one? She took a step closer, pressing a finger to my lips before replacing it with her own lips in a teasing kiss. Her touch was warm, yet it left a cold sensation crawling down my spine. "I am not Emma
Chapter 41Benita's Return Emma Watson The house smelled like old wood and lavender—a scent that should have been comforting, but instead felt suffocating. It wasn’t the smell. It wasn’t even the house itself. It was the memories. Sitting in my mother’s living room, surrounded by the ghosts of a past I’d rather forget, I felt like I didn’t belong here anymore. Maybe I never had. Lena sat across from me, absentmindedly running her fingers over the fabric of the couch cushion, her expression unreadable. For the past ten minutes, we’d sat in silence, an invisible barrier between us that neither of us knew how to cross. Mom was resting in her room. The quiet felt unnatural. I glanced at the clock on the wall. I should leave. Ray had made it clear—he didn’t want me staying here longer than necessary. And yet, something kept me rooted to my seat. Maybe it was foolish, but a small part of me still longed for something I’d never truly had; a real relationship with my famil
Death Itself Emma Watson I slammed the door shut behind me, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. My chest ached, but it wasn’t from exhaustion—it was from the overwhelming surge of emotions clawing at my insides. Benita.The name alone sent a wave of anger through me. I should have known something was off the second Ray drove me home in silence. He never stayed that quiet unless something was weighing on him. But this? Her? My hands curled into fists as I pushed off the door, pacing the length of the room. Why was she here? I had barely processed the fact that she and Ray shared a history, let alone the kind that involved a past relationship. But it wasn’t just that. He knew she was here before we walked in. He didn’t tell me. He let me walk in blind—again.A bitter laugh bubbled in my throat. Of course, he did. Why would Ray Maverick think I deserved to know anything? A soft knock at the door made me freeze. I knew who it was before he even spoke. “
Emma WatsonThe night air was thick with silence. Even with the curtains drawn, I could sense the vast emptiness outside, the weight of the estate pressing in around me. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the untouched dinner tray that Mira had brought in hours ago. My appetite had vanished the moment I saw her downstairs. Benita. Ray’s ex. The woman he once shared something with. I didn’t know what made me angrier—the fact that she was here, under this roof, or the fact that Ray had kept it from me. I exhaled slowly, willing my thoughts to settle. He said it wasn’t about meBut how could I believe that when the woman who had once held his heart was now walking through our home like she belonged here? A sharp knock at the door made me tense. I knew it was him. I debated ignoring it, but I wasn’t a coward. I wouldn’t hide from this. I walked over and pulled the door open. Ray stood there, one hand in his pocket, the other braced against the doorframe. His
Emma Watson The moment Benita walked away, silence stretched between Ray and me like a fragile thread waiting to snap. My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out everything but the echo of her parting words. _"Does she even know who you really are?"_ I swallowed hard, staring at Ray, searching his face for something—anything—that would prove her wrong. But all I saw was hesitation. And that hesitation shattered me. “Ray,” I whispered, my voice barely holding steady. “What did she mean by that?” He ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. “Emma, don’t—” “Don’t what?” My voice rose, shaking with frustration. “Don’t ask questions? Don’t demand the truth?” His jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer. And that silence? It spoke louder than anything he could’ve said.A bitter laugh escaped me. “You can’t even deny it, can you?” Ray closed his eyes for a brief second before stepping toward me. “It’s not what you think.” “Then tell me what it is,” I shot back, stepping aw
Emma Watson I stared at the photograph in my hands, my fingers trembling. Ray’s face stared back at me, younger but unmistakably him. His jaw was sharp, his eyes held the same intensity—but there was something different. A darkness. A cold, calculated expression that sent chills down my spine. And next to him? Benita.Their hands were clasped, their gazes locked like the world around them didn’t exist. My stomach twisted. “You’re lying,” I whispered, shoving the picture back at her. “This doesn’t mean anything.” Benita chuckled, a slow, deliberate sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Oh, Emma. You’re in denial. That’s adorable.” I clenched my fists. “I don’t believe you.” Her smile widened. “You don’t have to. But the truth doesn’t change just because you refuse to see it.” My heart pounded. “Why are you doing this?” Benita’s eyes gleamed. “Because you deserve to know who you’re really in love with.” I wanted to throw her out. To scream at her. But the wors
Emma WatsonI barely remembered the walk back to my apartment. My mind was a storm of emotions—anger, confusion, heartbreak. Ray had admitted it. He’d loved Benita once. He’d been with her.And he’d kept it from me. The city was alive around me, yet I felt disconnected, my body moving on autopilot. Cars rushed past, their headlights painting streaks of light against wet pavement. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed. My hands trembled as I unlocked the door. Mira passed me a glance, but her ignored her walking to my room.Rayian had said I could stay there if I didn't want to share a room with him.The room was dark and still, the silence pressing down on me. It felt colder than usual, as if the walls themselves sensed my turmoil. I dropped my coat onto the couch, rubbing my arms. I needed air.Grabbing my keys, I stepped onto the balcony. The city stretched before me, buildings towering under the moonlight. The cold breeze bit at my skin, but I welcomed it. I gripped the r
Emma WatsonThe late afternoon sun poured through the tall windows of the Manhattan penthouse, casting golden beams across the sleek marble floors. The scent of fresh lilies drifted through the open space, mingling with the faint aroma of roasted coffee from the kitchen. For the first time in months, the silence didn’t feel heavy or dangerous. It felt... peaceful.I stood barefoot by the glass wall, gazing out at the city I once hated for everything it took from me. Now, somehow, it had given me everything too.Behind me, Ray’s footsteps echoed softly across the wood. I didn’t turn. I didn’t have to. I knew his presence by heart now—the rhythm of his breathing, the tension in his muscles when he was deep in thought, the way his energy wrapped around mine like a second skin.He came to stand beside me, his hand finding mine. Warm. Solid. Real.“This view used to make me feel invincible,” he said quietly.I looked up at him, his profile bathed in the soft light. “And now?”He glanced do
Ray The night air bit against my skin as I stood on the rooftop of the Kingstone building, the skyline of Manhattan stretching before me in all its glittering, indifferent glory. The city didn’t know what it had cost me to get here—or maybe it didn’t care. Either way, the end was coming. And I was ready. Behind me, the wind whipped at my coat, and the faint sound of footsteps echoed from the stairwell. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. “Are you sure about this?” Lucas’s voice was low, hoarse from the healing wound in his side. I glanced back at him. “It ends tonight. One way or another.” He nodded grimly and joined me at the edge. “We have snipers stationed on the west building, just like you planned. Emma’s team is holding the perimeter.” My throat tightened at her name. We’d said our goodbyes earlier, just in case. She’d kissed me like it might be the last time. Maybe it would be. “They’ll be here,” I said. “Benitez doesn’t miss a chance to gloat.” Luc
Emma I used to think love was the end goal. Like if I could just find the right person, all the broken parts would fall into place and I’d finally feel whole. But love wasn’t the end. It was the beginning. Because when Ray and I stopped running from who we were—and started building toward who we wanted to become—something bigger took root. Something wilder. Braver. Truer. Not a happy ending. A brave one. And that made all the difference. We spent the first few weeks after the wedding wrapped in a kind of quiet bliss. The world slowed down. Emails went unanswered. The Fellowship ran without us for a little while. Priya handled most of the chaos, sending short updates with emojis and bullet points. I skimmed them between morning walks and late-night dips in the ocean. Ray was softer, more still. I could see it in the way he looked at me—like the war inside him had finally gone quiet. I’d never felt more like myself. And in that stillness, something surpri
Ray When I was a kid, I thought power meant control. Silence in a boardroom. Eyes following your every move. A last name that carried weight, made people sit straighter. Turns out, none of that matters when you’re standing in a village where no one knows who you are—just that you show up when you say you will. That’s real power. Not dominance. But trust. And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t chasing power to bury my father's shadow. I was chasing purpose—with Emma beside me. We moved slower now, not because we had to, but because we could. Mornings began with thick coffee and open laptops, balancing spreadsheets with outreach emails. The fellowship was growing faster than we planned. Our quiet office above the bookstore had tripled in size, and we were already looking for a new space. We weren’t just funding journalism. We were creating platforms. Safety nets. A family of storytellers, rebels, and truth-seekers. People I would’ve never noticed if I’d stay
The Shape of Forever Emma The breeze was warm, laced with the scent of frangipani and sea salt as I stepped out onto the balcony. Below, the ocean stretched into a horizon so clear and infinite, it felt like time itself paused to breathe. Bali wasn’t what I expected. It was better. No crowds. No headlines. No past. Just us—and the rhythm of waves that didn’t care about who we used to be. Ray was in the kitchen, humming something soft as he sliced fruit. Shirtless, barefoot, sun-kissed. If I didn’t already love him, I would’ve fallen for him right then and there. But I’d already fallen—completely, recklessly, irrevocably. And here, in this quiet corner of the world, it finally felt safe to land. We spent our mornings wrapped in each other, too lazy to set alarms. Sometimes we talked. Sometimes we didn’t need to. His fingertips would trace patterns on my skin while the sun climbed higher, and I’d close my eyes, memorizing the silence between our heartbeats. In the af
Ray The wind cut through my coat as I stepped out of the cabin one last time, the cold air snapping me to attention. Snow crunched beneath my boots, and far below, the world stretched out in a sea of silver and blue—mountains frozen in time, quiet valleys that didn’t care about headlines, betrayals, or billion-dollar collapses. Up here, the world couldn’t touch us. But it also couldn’t stay frozen forever. Behind me, Emma zipped up her duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the chill, her hair tied back in a loose braid. She looked at me like she always did—like I wasn’t the broken son of a corrupt empire, but something more. Something worth saving. And maybe—for the first time in my life—I believed her. The train we caught into Lucerne was empty except for an older couple reading a newspaper and a teenage boy scrolling on a cracked phone. Emma sat beside me, her head leaning on my shoulder, one hand looped around my arm. I watched the
Emma The sun rose behind a shroud of pale clouds as we crossed the Swiss border. Ray sat beside me in the back of the SUV, his eyes fixed on the snow-dusted mountains ahead. Lucas dozed in the front passenger seat, snoring softly, a jacket draped over his face like a makeshift shield from reality. I watched Ray in the quiet. The shadows under his eyes hadn’t faded, even after everything we’d done. Even after the truth had finally come out. The Chronicle had published it all. Langston Enterprises. The bribes. The offshore accounts. The ports. The human cost. The devastation left in his father’s wake. It was global news now. Presidents were giving statements. CEOs were distancing themselves. Stocks were crashing. Investigations were launching across four continents. And yet, somehow, the air between us still held that tension. That edge. Because justice came with a price. And we were the ones who’d lit the match. The safe house was tucked into the mountains above Interla
Ray It wasn’t just the name—it was everything that came with it. Langston. In boardrooms, it carried weight. On Wall Street, it opened doors. But in my blood, it felt like a curse I’d spent my entire life trying to outrun. And now, it was time to turn around and face it. I stared at the screen, Emma asleep beside me on the couch, her legs curled underneath a blanket, her head resting on my thigh. The glow of the laptop cast long shadows across her peaceful face. God, she deserved peace. Deserved a life untouched by this war. But she’d chosen to fight anyway. With me. For me. I couldn’t let that be for nothing. I scrolled through the documents we’d compiled—encrypted logs, money transfers, real estate deals, fake nonprofit filings, covert port activity. All of it pointed back to one name: Langston Enterprises. All of it pointed back to my father. Everything we needed to dismantle his empire was right here. The question was—who could we trust with it? Lucas had reached
Emma The morning after the bloodshed, the safe house felt eerily quiet—like the walls themselves were holding their breath. I stood by the window, watching the pale gray mist roll over the hills. The trees swayed in a rhythm that felt too calm, too detached from what had happened less than twenty-four hours ago. Inside me, a different storm brewed. One that didn’t care for peace or clarity. Ray was still asleep. His breathing steady beside me in the bed we had barely touched since arriving. We’d held each other in silence last night, the kind of silence that didn’t beg for words but craved understanding. But even in his arms, I hadn’t truly rested. My mind hadn’t stopped since I’d pulled the trigger. I’d never killed before. I wasn’t even sure I believed in the right to. But when that man raised his weapon toward Lucas, something primal in me had taken over. I hadn’t hesitated. I hadn’t flinched. I’d acted. And I didn’t regret it. That’s what scared me the most. I steppe