**Emma’s POV**Arriving at the grand hotel’s restaurant, I stepped inside, my eyes darting around as I searched for Fielding. He’d said I would recognize him the moment I saw him, but standing there in the bustling space, I felt a wave of uncertainty.“He said I would recognize him. Where is he?” I muttered to myself, scanning the room, but nothing seemed familiar. The clink of cutlery and the low hum of conversation swirled around me, making me feel slightly out of place.I decided to step outside the restaurant, drawn toward the bridge just beyond it. The hotel was built over water, and the soft flow of the river beneath the glass walkway always had a calming effect on me. But as I approached, something—or rather someone—caught my eye. From a distance, I saw Amory’s unmistakable silhouette. My heart skipped a beat, a mixture of surprise and confusion washing over me.“Amory?” I called out softly, the name escaping my lips before I could stop it.He turned, his eyes locking onto min
**Emma's POV**“In the ward… he’s not breathing! If he stops breathing—” My voice cracked, panic tightening my throat like a vice.The doctor and I bolted back to the ward, my heart pounding, each step more frantic than the last. But when we pushed through the door, the bed where Amory had been laid was… empty.“He was right here!” I cried, spinning in disbelief. My stomach dropped, dread rising like a cold tide. What was happening? Where had they taken him?The doctor shot me a skeptical look, his eyes narrowing as if I was playing some kind of twisted joke. Before I could protest, a voice from outside the room caught his attention.“Doctor,” someone called, and without a word, he turned on his heel and left.Confusion clouded my thoughts, and I stumbled out of the room, my legs heavy, my mind spinning. Was I losing it? Had they moved Amory to another ward without telling me? The lobby was a sea of faces, people rushing back and forth, oblivious to my rising panic. I started searchin
**Emma's POV**“Amory doesn’t know you’re here?” Chairwoman asked, her voice casual as she sipped from a porcelain cup of coffee. The sunlight streaming through the large windows cast a warm glow on the dark wood of her luxurious office. Her gaze, however, was anything but warm—sharp and probing, as if she could see through every lie and every secret.I smiled, keeping my expression neutral. “No. I didn’t think I needed to tell him,” I replied calmly, my words steady despite the tension thrumming just beneath the surface.She set her cup down on the table, the soft clink of porcelain on glass echoing in the silence. She leaned back into the plush couch, crossing her legs. “Good. I called you up to ask you a question,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly as they bore into mine.I nodded, feeling the weight of her words even before they fully left her lips. “Go ahead, Chairwoman.”She inhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling with the effort. “Your father, Smith, asked me to assist
**Emma's POV**"But Mother, that is a bit much. You want the wedding to happen in a month?" Amory's father, Mr. Mantin, asked with a deep, gravelly voice that carried a mix of disbelief and hesitation.His question prompted a sharp response from Amory’s grandmother, the Chairwoman, who was lounging comfortably on the plush couch, her legs elegantly crossed. She was a woman of sharp resolve, and her opinion often held final sway in the their family.“If it’s going to happen, why wait?” she asked, her tone smooth but firm. “Don’t you agree?”Madam Elizabeth, Amory’s mother, hesitated for a moment before shaking her head, a gentle frown creasing her brow. She leaned slightly forward from her seat, her hands neatly clasped in her lap. “But, Mother, next month is way too soon,” she began, her voice soft but filled with worry.Mr. Mantin, catching on quickly, nodded in agreement. “You think so too, don’t you? It’s going to be difficult to pull off a wedding that fast,” he said, his gaze bri
"This is where you made the appointment?" I asked, my voice barely steady as we stood in front of the bridal shop. My heart clenched painfully. It was the same place I had picked out with Zayn before our breakup. Memories flooded in, and my stomach churned with the weight of it all.Amory turned to look at me, sliding his hands into his pockets with that calm demeanor of his. "My secretary said this place is the best. Why?" Concern tinged his voice as he studied my expression.I tore my gaze away from him, focusing on the shop’s name elegantly inscribed above the entrance. “You said you can always fire your secretary, right?” I said casually, though there was an edge of seriousness to my tone.Amory's eyebrows shot up. "What?" He exclaimed, clearly taken aback. His sister's husband was his secretary, after all.I bit my lip, realizing how that must have sounded. My eyes darted around awkwardly. "I’m joking. But this place is a little..." Before I could finish my sentence, a loud voice
Zayn's presence felt like a storm had swept into the room, darkening everything around us. I could barely breathe as he stepped closer, his eyes locked onto mine, burning with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. Was it pain? Anger? Betrayal? It was all there, tangled in the intensity of his gaze.One of the workers panicked and tried to stop him. “S-sir!” she stammered, but Zayn pushed past her without hesitation, his eyes never leaving me. Amory was on his feet in an instant, his protective instinct kicking in. He stood close, but Zayn didn’t even glance at him. His focus was solely on me as if the world had shrunk to just the two of us.“It wasn’t enough to marry another man?” Zayn’s voice cracked with a bitterness that sent chills down my spine. He stopped right in front of me, towering, but I didn’t flinch. I couldn’t. His words weighed heavily, more painful than any physical blow. “You had to pick the same bridal shop?” His lips curled into a smirk, though his eyes glistened with un
The evening air inside my room was thick with tension. The brush in my hand had been gliding smoothly over the canvas just moments ago, each stroke of paint a soothing balm. The scene I was painting—a delicate landscape of rolling hills and a twilight sky—was coming together perfectly. But Zayn’s words from earlier that day replayed in my mind, striking me harder than I wanted to admit. “You don’t look happy at all.”My hand hesitated as I glanced at the half-finished painting. The once gentle hills and peaceful sky seemed mocking now, as though my own creation was questioning my choices. Anger started bubbling up inside me, and before I could stop myself, I grabbed a bigger brush, slathered it with dark paint, and pressed it against the canvas, smearing the peaceful landscape into chaos.My hand shook, hovering just inches from the painting, and then I stopped. What was I doing? Destroying this wasn’t going to erase the confusion and frustration swirling inside me. With a deep breath
Amory leaned in closer, his breath ragged with fury as he grabbed Fielding’s shirt tighter. His knuckles whitened as his grip tightened, his face only inches away from Fielding’s. The room felt charged, the kind of static tension that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Without warning, Amory shoved him back with full force, causing Fielding to stumble. His supportive cane fell from his hand, clattering noisily as it hit the marble floor. The sound echoed through the room, reverberating with a kind of finality that made everyone stop. Time seemed to slow as Fielding’s body followed, crashing hard onto the marble tiles with a thud that sent a shiver down my spine. The silence that followed was deafening. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Fielding, now lying flat on the floor, his cane a few feet away, spinning slowly before settling still. Amory, not yet finished, leaned down again, grabbing Fielding’s shirt with renewed fury. I could see the storm of emotions brewin