chapter 15

Morning came with an eerie kind of quiet. The house was never truly silent, but something felt different today. I sat up slowly, the lingering exhaustion from last night still weighing on me. It was hard to forget the conversation I’d overheard—Alaric’s words still echoed in my mind.

I was nothing but an asset.

After my role was done, I’d be gone.

A bitter taste settled on my tongue, but I swallowed it down. Getting emotional over this was pointless. I had bigger things to worry about.

I forced myself out of bed and took a long, hot shower. The steam helped clear my head, grounding me in the present. When I stepped out, I dressed in black leggings and a fitted top, something comfortable but not too casual. If I was stuck in this house, I’d at least move with purpose.

I left my room and immediately noticed the change in the household. The staff were busier than usual, moving quickly, carrying things that weren’t for me. I caught a glimpse of fresh flowers and a tray of carefully plated food.

Emma was being treated like a queen.

I pushed down the irritation curling in my chest and moved past them. I had no time for petty jealousy. What I needed was information.

The last time I’d snooped through Alaric’s office, Emma had caught me. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. His private study was another option—a place only he used, separate from his formal office. If there was anything more… personal to uncover, it would be there.

I made my way through the halls, keeping my steps light. The study door was slightly open, which meant I wouldn’t even need to break in. Careless.

Or maybe overconfident.

I slipped inside, my fingers brushing over the dark wood of the desk. The study was different from his office—more intimate, filled with books, locked drawers, and personal documents.

I didn’t waste time.

I sifted through the papers, looking for anything useful. Shipments, business records—some of it looked too clean, too perfect. A front. If he truly was some kind of crime lord, he wasn’t stupid enough to leave clear evidence lying around.

I was reaching for a leather-bound notebook when—

A voice broke through the silence.

“Snooping… again?”

The sound sent a sharp jolt down my spine.

I turned quickly—too quickly—and found Emma standing in the doorway.

She leaned against the frame, arms crossed, her platinum blonde hair falling over one shoulder. Her blue eyes gleamed with mock amusement as she tilted her head.

“You really have a death wish, don’t you?”

I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to keep my expression neutral.

“I was looking for something,” I said flatly.

Emma’s lips curled into a slow smirk. “Oh, I’m sure you were. But tell me, Vanessa—does it ever get exhausting? Playing a game you’ve already lost?”

I met her gaze head-on. Brown against blue. Steel against ice.

“You talk a lot for someone who just got here,” I said coolly.

Emma let out a soft, mocking laugh. “Oh, sweetie. I didn’t just ‘get here.’ I’ve always been here.” She stepped closer, her voice turning softer, deadlier. “You? You’re just a visitor. And soon, you’ll be gone.”

I clenched my fists.

I refused to let her get under my skin, but something about her confidence unnerved me.

She wasn’t just some ex-lover clinging to Alaric. She knew something. Something I didn’t.

“You don’t belong here, Vanessa,” she continued, voice almost pitying. “You can pretend all you want, but this world? This isn’t yours.”

I took a step forward, closing the space between us.

“I don’t need to belong,” I said. “So you can stop with the bullshit”

Emma blinked. Then—she smiled.

And that’s when I realized—she had been waiting for me to say something like that.

Before I could react, she suddenly stumbled backward, gasping.

Crash.

She hit the ground hard, knocking over a nearby table. A glass sculpture shattered beside her, the sharp sound ringing through the room.

For a second, I just stared at her, my heart pounding. What the hell just happened?

Then—footsteps.

The study door burst open, and Alaric was there.

His silver eyes swept over the scene—Emma curled on the floor, clutching her wrist like it was broken, glass scattered everywhere.

Then—his gaze landed on me.

“What the hell is going on?” His voice was cold. Sharp. Dangerous.

Emma let out a weak, pained breath, her shoulders shaking.

“I—I don’t think she meant to push me,” she whispered. Her voice was so gentle, so understanding, like she was trying to defend me.

But that was the trick.

By pretending to protect me, she was only making me look guiltier. And to think I thought this only happened in the movies . I felt like rolling my eyes ...this little b*tch. Shouldn't she be more worried about her health then creating this unnecessary drama. I didn't want her man I wanted to leave this place.

Alaric’s eyes darkened.

I took a step forward, jaw tight. “I didn’t touch her.”

Emma flinched—actually flinched, like my words had somehow hurt her.

“I was just talking to her,” she murmured, voice breaking. “She got… upset.”

The way she said it—soft, fragile, hesitant—it sounded so believable.

I exhaled slowly, controlling the rage threatening to break through my skin.

Emma had played this perfectly.

She looked like the delicate, helpless victim. And me? I looked exactly like what she wanted me to be—the aggressor. The problem.

Alaric’s gaze flickered with something unreadable. For a moment, I thought he might actually believe me.

Then, his expression hardened.

“Go to your room, Vanessa.”

I stood my ground. “I didn’t do anything.”

Emma let out a soft, shaky breath beside him. “It’s okay, Alaric. Really. I’m sure she didn’t mean to—”

The fake kindness in her voice made my blood boil.

Alaric turned back to me, his expression unreadable. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Anger coiled in my chest, hot and suffocating, but I forced myself to turn and walk away.

I wouldn’t argue. I wouldn’t beg.

But as I reached the door, Emma’s voice—soft, broken, dripping with deception—floated after me.

“I just wanted us to get along.”

I clenched my fists, biting back the urge to turn around.