Chapter 5

EMMA

The red roses hit the floor with a soft thud, petals scattering across the pristine marble like tiny drops of blood. Margaret’s lips parted slightly, but Kian didn’t give her the chance to speak.

Before I could even react, he grabbed my wrist and yanked me toward him. My heart slammed against my ribs as he dragged me out of the grand living room, past the stunned house staff, and straight through the massive front doors.

“Kian!” Margaret’s voice rang out behind us. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Kian didn’t answer. He was moving too fast, his grip firm but not painful. My legs struggled to keep up. The moment we reached his sleek black car, he pulled open the passenger door and practically shoved me inside.

“Kian, stop—”

The door slammed shut before I could finish. He rounded the car, yanked open the driver’s side, and slid in. Without a word, he started the engine and peeled out of the driveway, tires screeching against the pavement.

The silence was thick, suffocating. My chest heaved as I tried to process what had just happened.

“What the hell was that?” I finally snapped, turning to face him.

Kian’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched so hard I thought it might crack. “What were you doing there?” His voice was low, dangerous.

I exhaled sharply. “I should be asking you that! Your mother hired me! I didn’t know she was your mother, Kian. I just needed a job.”

His eyes flicked toward me, burning with something unreadable. “So you resigned from working with me, just to end up working for her?”

I swallowed. “I didn’t plan this, okay? I wasn’t going to sit at home doing nothing. And then I got an offer—an anonymous one at that. I had no idea it was from your mother until I walked into that office today.”

Kian exhaled harshly, running a hand through his hair. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel.

“You’re resigning.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You’re quitting. You’re not working for her.”

I crossed my arms, glaring at him. “Oh? And what am I supposed to do? Sit around and wait for you to throw money at me? No, thanks.”

His grip on the wheel tightened. “Then work for me again.”

I scoffed. “Oh, right. So we can repeat the same mistake? No. Kian, I already told you—I can’t do this. I won’t do this.”

Silence. The air in the car felt charged, heavy.

Finally, he spoke, his voice softer this time. “Emma… you were fine with me before. Why are you suddenly pushing me away?”

My stomach twisted. My hands curled into fists on my lap.

Because I’m pregnant.

I pressed my lips together, my heartbeat hammering in my ears. I couldn’t say it. Not now. Not when everything was already so complicated.

Instead, I looked out the window. “Because sleeping with you was a mistake,” I murmured.

Kian’s fingers flexed against the leather steering wheel. “You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true.”

He didn’t reply. The silence stretched between us as the car sped through the city, past buildings that blurred into streaks of lights.

I didn’t realize where he was taking me until the roads became quieter, the city fading into the background. The riverbank loomed ahead, shimmering under the glow of the streetlights.

He pulled the car to a stop, cut the engine, and turned to face me.

“Get out.”

I hesitated. “What?”

His voice was tight, controlled. “You wanted to talk? Let’s talk.”

I sighed and pushed the door open, stepping onto the cool grass. The air smelled of water and damp earth, a sharp contrast to the suffocating tension between us.

“I never wanted to talk, you were the one who dragged me out of the mansion in front of your mom and your fiancée.” 

Kian leaned against the hood of the car, his arms crossed. He stared at me, his dark eyes unreadable. “Tell me the truth.”

I swallowed. “What truth? I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Emma.” His voice was lower now, almost pleading. “Something changed. I can feel it. You’re hiding something from me.”

I looked away. My nails dug into my palms. “I just don’t want to be a part of this mess, Kian. You have a fiancée, your mother clearly hates me, and I don’t—”

“I don’t have a fiancée.”

My head snapped up. “What?”

He exhaled. “I was supposed to get engaged. My mother wanted it. But I never agreed to it. The woman you saw back there? I don’t even know her.”

A lump formed in my throat. “So what was that? Some business arrangement?”

He nodded. “Exactly. My mother’s idea of a ‘perfect match.’ But I never agreed to any of it.”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter, Kian. It changes nothing. You and I… we were a mistake. We’re still a mistake.”

His jaw ticked. “Do you really think that we are a mistake?”

I hesitated. “Yes.”

The way he looked at me then—it was like I had just stabbed him.

He stepped closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “Then look me in the eye and say it. Say you feel nothing for me.”

My breath hitched. His gaze was intense, pulling me in, suffocating.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

His lips curved into a humorless smile. “That’s what I thought.”

I took a step back, needing space. Air. Distance.

Kian ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. “So what now? You want me to go back to that house and propose to some random woman just because my mother wants me to?”

I crossed my arms. “Yes.”

His head snapped up.

I forced myself to keep going. “Do what’s best for your family, Kian. Do what makes sense. I don’t fit into your world, and I never will.”

His eyes darkened. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Please, Kian. Just… take me back to your mom, and make sure you settle things with her because I might get into trouble.”

He studied me for a long moment, his gaze searching. Then, finally, he nodded.

“Fine.” He said and then picked up his cell phone. “Mark, submit Emma’s resignation letter to my mother right away.” He ordered.