Tip-toeing through the room looking for Zayn. I can hear my sister's voice echoing in the next room in front of me. I decided to make some silent runs and prevent my hill from making a sound against the tiles.
Almost at the edge of entering the room, I could hear my sister's voice. "You have feelings for me? I already know you made it so obvious," I move closer to stay at the entrance to hear clearly and see who she's speaking with. "Only a dense fool like my sister wouldn't realize," what I heard shattered my heart. "I thought it was just a phase and overlooked your cute crush. But how dare you?'' She takes two steps forward, closing the space between them. "How any of you and Emma are so similar? Why do you both not know your place?" her voice rang out with anger, each word a sharp dagger cutting through the air. Her words echoed in the room. "You desire the things you can't have and create a mess…" her voice cut when she realized my presence from the entrance, a look of tension gripped over her. "Emma," my husband's mouth became wide open without even having the strength to close it. My sister rushed out with anger radiating in her, thinking I was the one who tried to ruin her company with my husband trying to run after her. "It's not true, right?" He pursed from going after her. "There is no way you would do this to me right?" he inhaled sharply moving closer to me. "Has anyone ever told you it's rude to listen to other people's conversation?" His deep voice cuts through the silent space. Interrupting my thoughts in the process. "I meant to tell you today," he let out the envelope in his hand to me, telling me to read it. As I unfolded the paper he handed me, my heart sank. It was a divorce letter, neatly typed out. Shock gripped me as I came to realize his reasons for wanting to end our marriage. Tears welled up in my eyes as I struggled to comprehend the sudden unraveling of our life together. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "Why did you marry me if you were going to do this? So you could be by Elena's side? Just because of that?" He shook off his head disagreeing with me. "Because I pitied you." "What?" I was shocked when he mentioned the word 'pitied.' "You worked hard to win your parent's favor," he slid his hand into his pocket. "And you were happy with whatever they gave you. You were like myself, like me, you were a pitiful soul." Tears fill my eyes but I rub them off. I was tired of crying. Tired of chasing after a man that didn't want me. "How dare you take pity on me? You have no idea how hard I work for my life, who gave you the right to pity me? Who gave you the right?" I let out some punches on his chest. "Am sorry, Emma." "Stop it!" I exclaimed, dropping the letter on the floor. My heart leaped into my throat as I caught the sight of the police through the corner of the room. Panic surged through my veins, and without a second thought, I dashed away. Adrenaline coursed through my body, urging me to flee as fast as I could. Every footstep felt like thunder, echoing in the confines of my mind. I knew I had to escape, otherwise I would rot inside the jail. My only chance is to reach my car and disappear into my car before they catch me. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably as I gripped the steering wheel with trembling hands. The weight of betrayal pressed down on my chest like a ton of bricks, each breath a struggle against the suffocating reality of my situation. How could my mother and Zayn do this to me? I had always believed in family, in loyalty, but now those ideals felt like nothing more than shattered illusions. My own mother had thrown me to the wolves to protect her precious daughter's company, leaving me to face the consequences of her lies alone. But now, as I sat alone in my car, the world around me felt empty and void of any hope. Where could I go? I had no plan, no destination in mind. I was just running, running away from the pain, the betrayal, the crushing weight of it all. My phone began to ring, I hesitated before answering it after seeing it my mother. "Mother," my voice wavered, betraying the turmoil raging within me. 'Where are you, Emma?" her voice washed over me like a bittersweet tide. "Mother, why are you doing this to me? I didn't do anything wrong," I asked, unable to keep the edge out of my voice. "Now is not the time to be emotional. If words get out to the public, we don't know what will happen," there is a pregnant pause on the other end of the line, filled with the weight of unspoken truths. "You should repay my kindness with this. I took you in when you were a homeless orphan," I closed my eyes, willing the tears to stop, but they floured unabated, a relentless torrent of pain. There was another pause, this one heavier than the last, before she finally spoke again. "I'm sorry for the harsh words. Who else can I ask for help? You're the only one, Emma," her words cut through me like a knife, reopening wounds I had thought long healed. Hearing this makes fresh hot tears stream down my face, each one a tiny explosion of emotion that I can contain. My lips trembling and sore, felt swollen from the countless times I had bitten them, trying to stifle the sound of my grief. "The attorney will settle the rest. If you promise to return the money and reflect you won't even get probation. And I'll pay the fine for you." Her words struck like a physical blow, leaving me reeling, unable to respond. I blinked rapidly trying to clear my eyes enough to see the road. "Emma, please? We're family, after all," the word family pierced through me like a knife. I know I have long fallen for that word but not anymore. I can't believe she had turned my own words against me, twisting them into weapons. I tried to blink away the tears, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white. My lip throbbed where I had bitten down hard, trying to stifle my sobs. The taste of blood was sharp on my tongue, mingling with the salt of my tears. Without realizing it, I had approached an intersection. The traffic light had turned red, but my distracted mind didn’t register the change. It wasn’t until I was almost in the middle of the intersection that I noticed the red light. Panic surged through me, and I instinctively turned the wheel to the left, desperate to avoid running the light. In that split second, everything happened too fast and too slow all at once. The blaring horn of a lorry filled my ears, and I glanced to my side just in time to see its massive form barreling toward me. There was no time to react. The impact was violent, a thunderous crash that reverberated through my entire body. The car crumpled around me, metal screeching and glass shattering. Pain exploded in my head, and the world spun into a dizzying blur of lights and darkness. My last coherent thought was a desperate, fractured plea: “Please, no…” Then everything went black.I woke slowly, groggy and disoriented, the sterile smell of antiseptic filling my nostrils. The soft beeping of machines was a constant, steady rhythm, a reminder that I was still alive. My body ached all over, a dull, persistent pain that seemed to come from everywhere at once. I tried to shift slightly, wincing as a sharp pain shot through my side. My eyes fluttered open, the harsh overhead lights making me squint. The room was a blur of white walls and medical equipment. It took me a moment to remember where I was and what had happened—the accident, the lorry, the crash. As my vision cleared, I noticed a familiar figure standing at the foot of my bed. My mother. For a moment, a flicker of hope sparked within me. Maybe she had come to apologize, to show some semblance of care. But the look in her eyes was cold, calculating, devoid of any warmth. She approached the bed, her steps deliberate and slow. My heart pounded in my chest, the beeping of the monitor quickening in respons
The truth is, I really can't believe this. I was not a good girl. I remembered my mistress. She was a stern but kind woman, with a heart much softer than her demeanor suggested. She had a way of making us all feel seen and valued, even when the world outside seemed to overlook us. It all began one afternoon, she called me into her small, cluttered office, the air filled with the scent of old books and the faint aroma of lavender from the sachets she kept in her drawers. "Sit down, dear," she said, her voice gentle but firm. I took a seat, my small legs dangling off the chair. "Is something wrong, Mistress?" I asked, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and curiosity because I didn't know what have done this time. She smiled, the lines on her face softening. "No, Emma. Nothing is wrong. Everything is alright, I just want to talk to you about something important." I nodded, my eyes wide with anticipation. "You're a good girl, Emma," she began, her gaze steady and warm. "A
Standing in the living room, I faced my mother, or rather, the woman who had raised me. My heart was a fortress of ice, my words sharpened by the memo of betrayal. Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What? Say it again," her hand ran through her hair and then down to her neck, a nervous habit I'd want to see from now on. "I'm not marrying Zayn," I said, my voice cold. Hearing this, she sat her glass of water down, her hands shaking slightly. Her face hardened with her eyes flashing with anger. "I feel under the weather." A flicker of confusion crosses her face, a rare crack in her otherwise impenetrable facade. She blinked, taken aback by my sudden coldness. Her gaze shifted momentarily, and she noticed the maid stand silently by the doorway, a witness of our fractured exchange. "Go get me some chicken. I'll boil it for dinner." She instructed the maid, her voice unnaturally steady. The maid nodded and quietly exited the room, leaving us in a sense of silence. "Don't you
Sitting on my bed, my mother and sister's cutting words still fresh in my mind, I felt a surge of determination. They had treated me with such contempt, and I was done being a scapegoat.My finger hovered over my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I found the name I was looking for, Mia. Not only was she a good friend, but she was also a reporter and the cousin of my sister's boyfriend, Amory.I took a deep breath and pressed the call button. After a few rings, Mia picked up."Hey! Long time no talk," she said cheerfully."Hey, Mia. It's me," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. "When are you free? I need to talk to you about something important.""Is everything okay?" she asked, cover creeping into her voice. "Not really," I admitted. "But I'd rather explain in person. Can we meet at that little restaurant downtown? The one we used to go to.""Sure, I can be there in an hour," she agreed without hesitation. "See you soon."Hanging up the phone, I felt a mix of nervousn
With the information in hand, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. I would meet Amory first, charm him, and set my plan into motion. They had underestimated me for too long, it was time for them to face the consequences of their actions. The next day, I dressed carefully, choosing an outfit that was elegant yet approachable. I arrived at the Noelle hotel well before 4 pm and found a spot where I could watch for Amory Without being seen. My heart pounded as I waited, determined to make my move. At 3:45 pm, I saw him walk into the hotel's luxurious lobby. He was tall, with a hair of quiet confidence. My pulse quickened. This was a chance. I watched as he sat down in one of the plush armchairs, glancing occasionally at his phone. Taking a deep breath, I approached him. My feet felt heavy with fear, but I forced myself to move forward. "Hello, Amory. Could I sit for a second?" I asked, flashing a polite smile. Amory looked up in surprise. "Emma?" Hearing this sends down a mix
This is so weird. The sight of the key card made my heart race. I couldn't tell if this was a test or something else entirely. "Emma! Can we talk over there?" she pointed towards the opposite direction with her face flushed with fear of what might be happening. "I don't think so," I paused. My heart pounded as I reached for the key card, my fingers trembling inside me but composed apparently. "Because we need to use this," I picked up the key card, to raise it for her to see. Amory sighed, letting his gaze up and looking at my sister's eyes. My sister's eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find words. The sight of her speechless gave me a small, bitter satisfaction. "What do you think, Amory?" I asked, his gaze returning to me. Amory nodded. "Of course, Emma."My sister's face contorted with a mix of rage and disbelief. "Emma! What are you doing? Explain yourself! "Amory turned to her, raising his hand again. "Emma… should we go upstairs?" Amory sugge
As Amory moved closer, his presence became almost overwhelming. Each step he took seemed to draw out the tension in the room, making my heart race even faster. I kept retreating until my back hit the table, halting my escape. My breath caught in my throat as I faced him, his eyes dark and intense.With a smirk, he leaned in placing his hands on either side of me, trapping me against the desk. He looked down at my chest, his voice low and provocative. “Can I check you now?”I looked into his eyes, trying to gauge his intentions. There was something in his gaze that made me realize he wasn't just trying to seduce me-maybe he was teasing me. Gathering my courage, I steadied my voice and met his gaze head-on.“Honestly, you're not my type,” I said slowly.Amory’s smirk faltered for a split second, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. “What?”I took a deep breath, trying to maintain my composure. “You're trying to seduce me first, and honestly, I don't know if we'll feel the same way,
I took another sip of my drink, feeling the familiar warmth spread through me. The evening had stretched on, the conversation flowing as freely as the wine. But now, as I set my glass down on the table beside me, I noticed Amory watching me with a concerned expression."I think you're drunk," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "Why don't we call it a night?"I scoffed, a grin spreading across my face. "Drunk? Who? You, Amory?" I dropped the glass cup onto the table with a clink, crossing my arms defiantly. "Then why don't you head to bed first?"He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "I'm serious. You've had quite a bit to drink."I laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet room. "Oh, Amory, you're no fun." I reached up to tie my hair back but realized I couldn't find the hair tie. My eyes began to wander around the room, searching. There it was, on the table across the room. I pointed at it, somewhat clumsily. "That’s mine."Amory stood up and walked over to retrieve it, his movem
**Emma’s POV** Now I understand that there’s no greater joy than marrying the person you love and knowing they love you back just as deeply. A smile tugged at my lips as both Amory and I signed our names, finalizing our marriage registration. “Now, we just have to…” he said, glancing at me with a playful grin as we both reached for the stamp. “One, two, three,” we counted together, pressing the stamp onto the marriage license. With the finality of that gesture, we submitted our paperwork, and Amory pulled me into a hug, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as we walked through the lobby. “Congratulations!” voices echoed around us, and I turned to see Catherine, Mia, and some of Amory’s colleagues gathered there, cheering in surprise and joy. “Congratulations, brother! Congratulations, Emma!” Catherine’s voice was bright and happy. Her husband chimed in, grinning, “Just like old times, huh?” I couldn’t help but beam back, the warmth of their celebration washing over me
**Emma’s POV** The sun was barely up, and the morning air held a slight chill, but there was a warmth blooming in my heart that no weather could touch. I reached across the breakfast table, picking up a slice of toast, and took a contented bite. “I think my morning sickness is finally gone,” I said with a sense of relief, smiling as I chewed. My mother’s expression softened as she watched me, her own breakfast momentarily forgotten. “Thank goodness,” she sighed, her hand resting briefly on mine. “I was starting to worry about you, you know, since you’d barely been eating.” She reached over to fill my glass with water, the sunlight catching the faint lines on her hands, a reminder of all the years of love and work she had put into raising me. “Do you have a busy day ahead?” she asked, glancing up at me with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. I nodded, swallowing a sip of water. “There’s a meeting with Dad and Grandpa about the foundation, and then I’m meeting Amory in the evening
Emma POV After leaving Amory's father and grandmother, we finally made it back home. The quiet felt almost surreal after everything we'd been through. I helped Amory settle down on the couch, his steps still unsteady, his recovery a slow process. I could see the weariness in his eyes, but I also saw something else—a lightness that had been missing for so long. We hadn’t been sitting long when a sudden chime from outside caught our attention. I quickly stood, realizing what it was. I hurried to the door, finding a delivery man waiting, a small package in his hands. As I took the package and shut the door, Amory looked over, puzzled. “What is this?” he asked as I placed the package on the table. I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s from my mom. She sent some of her special homemade dishes for you. She thought you’d need the extra strength.” “Your mom actually did that?” he asked, looking genuinely touched. I nodded, feeling warmth at the memory of her kindness. “She took such g
Amory POV It had been almost two and a half months since I’d been confined to a hospital bed, and now, finally, I was going home. My body still felt weak; each step was slow and careful, but I was free. Emma, my mom, and I decided to stop by and visit Grandma and Father before heading home. I knew they’d been waiting anxiously for this moment. As soon as we stepped inside, my mother’s voice rang out, “Mother! Honey!” The joy in her voice was unmistakable. Grandma’s eyes widened as she saw me, her expression shifting from shock to sheer happiness in an instant. She rushed forward, enveloping me in a tight embrace, her joy overflowing. “Amory! You’re home!” she exclaimed, beaming. “You did good. You did good,” she murmured, releasing me and turning to give Emma a hug as well. “You, too,” she added, smiling warmly at her. My gaze shifted to my father, who moved closer, his own smile breaking through the usually stoic expression. “You did good,” he said simply, before pulling me i
**Emma’s POV** Two long, agonizing months had passed since Amory been injured by Fielding leaving him lying motionless in that sterile hospital bed, a shadow of the vibrant man I loved. Every day, I had sat by his side, watching the faint rise and fall of his chest, searching his face for any sign of movement, any flicker of life. Even after his second surgery, he lay unresponsive, leaving me to grapple with an ache that felt impossible to mend. I sat quietly, watching him. He looked so peaceful, as if he were only asleep. I reached for his hand, feeling the gentle warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips, and clutched it close. "Amory," I whispered, my voice barely audible in the stillness, "I finally understand why I was given a second chance at life… why I came back." The quiet beeping of the machines filled the silence, steady and constant, a reminder of just how fragile he was. I took a shaky breath, pressing his hand against my cheek, my tears flowing freely as I whispered, “
Emma POV After Madam Elizabeth left, the room fell quiet, filled only with the hum of machines. I was still processing all that had happened when, to my surprise, Mr. Foden entered. It had been days since I’d last seen him—days since I learned the shocking truth that artist Edward Jones was his father.“You don’t look well, Ms. Emma,” he said, settling into a chair nearby. His gaze was steady, filled with a mixture of concern and curiosity.I sighed, sidestepping his observation. “How’s your father doing?” I asked, shifting the conversation away from myself.“He’s at the nursing home,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of sadness. He studied me closely, then continued, “What I said at the police station was quite shocking, wasn’t it?”I took a deep breath, the weight of it all pressing down on me. “I thought you might be connected to Edward Jones in some way. I didn’t know you were father and son.”He gave a small, regretful shake of his head. “I was sent to an orphanage so young
madam Elizabeth POV I sat down heavily on the couch, the tension from the hospital clinging to me like a weight I couldn’t shake. Emma was with Amory, still in critical condition after his first surgery, and the doctors were already discussing the need for another procedure. My heart twisted just thinking about it. “So, is there no progress on Amory?” Grandma’s voice was soft, yet tinged with worry. She was sitting across from me, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. I let out a long sigh, meeting her gaze. “They need to operate again. I’m so worried, Mother. What if he…” I trailed off, unable to finish the thought. I couldn’t bear to voice my fears. “Don’t say that. We have to be strong, somehow,” my husband interjected as he stood from his chair. His voice was firm, but I could see the concern etched into his face. He left the room without another word, leaving Grandma and me in a heavy silence. Just then, the sharp sound of the doorbell shattered the quiet. One of the mai
Fielding POV The clanking of the cell door jolted me from my thoughts. A police officer swung it open, gesturing for me to step out. I was handcuffed, and as I stepped into the hall, I saw him: my father, sitting stiffly in the visitor center. His eyes fixed on me as I entered, an expression that was as cold as it was unforgiving.For a moment, I froze, unable to take another step. But I forced myself forward, one heavy step after the other, until I reached the chair across from him. We were separated only by a small table, yet the distance felt insurmountable. He remained silent, his face a tight mask of anger and disappointment.After a painfully long silence, he finally spoke, his voice a low growl. “How could you do such a thing?” he asked, his words dripping with disdain. “I thought, maybe, after all this time, you would change. I thought you’d learn something.” His voice broke, raw and filled with an intensity that made me look away, unable to hold his gaze.He continued, his t
We reached the hospital, and Amory was rushed inside while I was directed to the waiting area. I sank into one of the chairs, numb, with tears streaming down my cheeks as the reality of everything crashed over me.“Emma! Emma!” someone called, but I was lost in my turmoil, barely aware of my surroundings. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Amory’s mother, Madam Elizabeth, standing before me, her face etched with worry.“What happened?” she asked, her voice trembling with fear as she knelt beside me.I took a deep breath, trying to muster the strength to explain, but the words felt heavy, almost impossible to say. “Amory… he got hurt trying to protect me,” I finally managed, my voice barely a whisper as I avoided her gaze, feeling the weight of guilt settle deeper in my chest.Madam Elizabeth gasped, her hands trembling. For a moment, I couldn’t bear to look at her, but she surprised me by pulling me into a gentle embrace, her hand rubbing my back soothingly. “It’s okay,