Chapter 3

~ Emily~

The Stanford Family were known for many things, particularly the generational wealth and the fleet of companies they had to their name.

For a common woman, it'd be a privilege to get married into the Stanford family. I would have felt the same if only my mother-in-law and her son, who also happened to be my husband, weren't one hell of an asshole. But Andrew's Father, Mr Timothy Stanford, was a different story altogether. He was a kind and gentle soul and he adored me.

“Emily!” Mr Timothy exclaimed, pulling me into a warm hug

"Happy birthday Father” I bowed slightly, stretching a small box

"You look awful” Tabitha, Andrew's mother scoffed, sizing me up with displeasure

"She looks just fine. If you don't mind, we were about to cut the cake,” Mr Timothy interrupted, his warm smile directed at me as he took the small box from my hands. "Ah, thank you, dear. You shouldn't have."

"Let's cut the cake, shall we?" The MC's voice boomed across the room.

The room, filled with high-profile guests, including politicians, business moguls, and celebrities, fell silent as all eyes turned to us. Tabitha shot me a disapproving glance, but I ignored her.

As we cut the cake and the guests began to mingle, Andrew excused himself. I watched as he made his way through the crowd, and I felt a pang of hurt and jealousy as he stopped in front of a familiar woman with long, curly brown hair and a bright smile. It was Kate, his secretary

Why did he invite her here? He isn't even trying to hide his infidelity.

“They look good together, don't they?" Tabitha said from behind, placing a hand on my shoulder

She turned to me, a hint of criticism in her voice. "You know, Kate is such a hard worker. She's always putting in extra hours to make sure your husband's business runs smoothly. And she's from a good family, too. A working-class family that values hard work and dedication. Unlike some people," she added, her eyes narrowing slightly as she gazed at me.

“Why didn't you pick her for your son then?” I blurted out, my confidence surprising me.

I was tired of her picking up on me at every slight opportunity.

Tabitha's smirk faltered for a moment before she regained her composure. "Well, dear, Kate wasn't exactly... suitable for our family's social standing at the time. But she's proven to be a valuable asset to our business, and Andrew seems to... appreciate her qualities." Her eyes glinted with amusement, and I sensed a veiled warning beneath her words.

I raised an eyebrow, my anger and frustration simmering just below the surface. "Appreciate her qualities?" I repeated, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Is that what they're calling it these days?”

Tabitha's expression turned cold, her eyes flashing with anger. "Watch your tone, dear," she warned. "You're not exactly in a position to be throwing stones."

Seethed with rage, I tried to shake off Tabitha's grip but she held tight, "And don't think for a second that you can just walk away from this marriage, dear," she sneered. "You're a Stanford now, and you'll do what's expected of you."

"Go to hell, Mother." I spat, emphasizing the last word with sarcasm.

I stormed out of the room, leaving Tabitha's smug face behind. I made my way to the balcony, seeking a quiet place to collect my thoughts. The cool night air hit me like a slap in the face, and I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

Just as I was about to let them fall, I heard a voice behind me. "I didn't know that you knew the Stanfords."

I turned around to meet a familiar pair of ocean-blue eyes staring down at me, and for a fleet second, I felt myself drowning in their depths.

He stretched out a napkin, breaking the spell that had held me captive. "M-Mr. Thomas," I stuttered, my voice trembling. He offered the napkin again, his eyebrow furrowed in concern. "Th-thank you," I muttered, taking it to wipe away my tears.

What was he doing here? I thought to myself. Of course, he's a celebrity, he must know Mr. Timothy.

"Are you related to the Stanfords?" His eyes narrowed slightly as he asked

I nodded my head, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I'm married to Mr. Timothy's son," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

Thomas's expression changed, his eyes flashing with a mixture of surprise and disgust. He silently mouthed two words: "That asshole."

“So, about the other night–" he started but I immediately cut him off

“It was a mistake. I was drunk and wasn't in my right senses”

"We still have unfinished business” he continued, totally dismissing what I said

“I am sorry, Mr. Thomas, but I am married—"

"To an asshole," Thomas interrupted, his voice dripping with disdain.

My eyes flashed with anger. "To my husband," I corrected.

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Your husband doesn't know or care that you're crying because he's in there flirting with another woman."

My face burned with shame. "He's just socializing," I defended, frustration betraying my words

Thomas snorted. "By trying to get into her pants." He said, moving closer while I retreated, the space between us shrinking with every step.

"I am sorry, Mr. Thomas, but my marital life is none of your business."

"Only I can decide that." He said, his smirk twisting into a snarl

His eyes blazed with intensity as he closed in on me. I tried to step back, but my back was already against the wall with nowhere to escape.

I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off. “Say one more word and I'll have you right here and now" he said, his voice a low, husky growl.

His finger traced the curve of my face, my heart racing and I felt my defenses crumbling. In a lightning-fast move, his lips slammed into mine, crushing me with a kiss that was both savage and intoxicating.

The sound of footsteps echoed from the stairs leading up to the balcony, followed by a low, gravelly voice. "Boss."

Thomas turned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded the two bodyguards standing at the top of the stairs. I recognized them instantly - they were the same men I had seen at the club the night before, the ones who had dragged the first man away!