Emily's POV.
My heart hammered in my chest as I watched Cole laugh. It wasn't a light chuckle or a half-hearted grin. No, this was the kind of laugh that made you feel like something deep inside you was being crushed into dust. His friends started laughing too, the sound of their mocking, high-pitched giggles echoing through the hallway. And then, even a few students nearby joined in. I could feel my face burn, my pulse pounding in my ears. I stood there, frozen, helpless, every ounce of courage I had drained in an instant. “Are you serious?” Cole asked, wiping tears from his eyes as he took a step toward me. He looked me up and down with the kind of scrutiny that made me want to crawl into a hole and hide forever. “You think you can just... tell me you like me? You think I’m going to be interested in some girl like you?” His voice was dripping with venom, each word cutting deeper than the last. I felt smaller and smaller, like the floor was swallowing me whole. He poked at my head with a finger, like I was some kind of mannequin…his lips curled into a twisted grin. “You like me?” he repeated, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. "Seriously. Have you even seen yourself?" He gestured toward me, his expression now pure disgust. "What, because I gave you an umbrella once, you think I’m your ticket to... what? Happiness? You’re dreaming." The laughter grew louder. His friends were practically howling now, their mockery making my skin crawl. I wanted to shrink away, disappear. But I couldn’t move. My legs were stiff, my chest heavy with shame. “You really think I’d ever go for someone like you?” Cole sneered, his voice suddenly turning bitter and cruel, like I was nothing but a joke. “You’re nothing. Just some girl who’s obsessed with me because I was nice enough to give you my umbrella. That’s the best you got, huh? A damn umbrella?” He threw his hands up as if my feelings were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. “Get a grip, Emily. We’re not even on the same track. You’re nowhere near my league. I’m the guy everyone wants, and you—” He stopped, looking me up and down again, shaking his head like he couldn’t even comprehend how I could’ve thought this was a good idea. “You? You’re a joke. A loser.” I could feel the sting of his words, each one like a slap to my face. My vision blurred, and I blinked furiously to fight the tears that were threatening to spill. "You're pathetic, you know that?" His words sliced through the air. "You think because I’ve smiled at you a couple of times, that means anything? You think I care? I don’t even remember your name half the time." His eyes narrowed as he let the words sink in, watching me flinch with each cruel jab. His friends were still laughing, egging him on. "Damn, Cole, you’re gonna break her heart!" one of them said, slapping him on the back like this was all some kind of twisted game. “You should’ve seen the look on her face when she thought he might like her,” another one added, his voice full of mock sympathy. “Classic move, Cole. She’s got a thing for the golden boy, huh?” I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt like it was caving in, my skin on fire from the humiliation. How could I have been so stupid? So naive to think he would ever see me as anything other than a joke. His words rang in my ears over and over. You’re nothing. A loser. Pathetic. Cole's smirk only deepened as he stepped even closer, his face now inches from mine. I could smell the faint scent of his cologne, mixed with sweat from the game, but all I could focus on was the bitterness in his eyes. "Listen, Emily," he said slowly, like he was explaining something to a child. "You’re never going to be anything more than the girl who hides in the back of the class, the one no one notices until it’s too late. You think you can change that with some lame confession? You’re wasting your time." His tone dripped with disgust. “You want to know the real reason I gave you that umbrella?” He paused for effect, his lips curling into something ugly, something dark. "It’s because I felt sorry for you. That’s it. Nothing more.” The laughter from his friends grew louder, filling my ears until I couldn’t hear anything else. The sound of it crushed me, shattering everything inside me that had once dared to believe maybe, just maybe, he could see me differently. And then, Cole pushed past me without another word, not even sparing me a second glance. His friends followed, still snickering behind him like a pack of hyenas. I stood there, unable to move, feeling like the world had come crashing down on top of me. My hands were shaking, my chest heaving as I fought to keep my emotions from spilling over. Tears burned at the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I couldn’t—couldn’t let them see me break, couldn’t let them see how much I was hurting. But the ache in my chest was unbearable, like I’d just been ripped apart by his cruel words. I felt the weight of everything—the laughter, the humiliation, the bitterness—pressing down on me. For the first time, I understood exactly how small I was in the grand scheme of things. Cole Grayson didn’t even see me. He didn’t care. And I was foolish for ever thinking that I could change that. “Pathetic,” I whispered to myself, repeating his words like a mantra. I had to get out of there. I couldn’t stand to be in the same space anymore. I turned on my heel and hurried down the hallway, the echoes of their laughter following me like a dark shadow. The tears finally started to fall, but I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care who saw. I didn’t care about anything anymore. Because in that moment, I realized that no matter how much I had liked him, no matter how badly I had wanted him to notice me, I was nothing to him. Just a girl with glasses, nothing more. And as much as I hated it, I knew he was right—I would always be nothing.Emily's POV 7 years later. Present. The moment I stepped out of the sleek black Rolls-Royce, a wave of flashing lights blinded me. The cameras clicked furiously, each one trying to capture the perfect shot. The air buzzed with the sound of reporters shouting my name, their questions tumbling over one another in a chaotic mess. “Miss Hart! Over here!” “Emily, are you planning to expand the company this year?” “Can we get a comment on your rise to success at such a young age?” I adjusted the lapel of my tailored cream pantsuit, my favorite pair of Louboutin heels clicking against the pavement as I strode forward. My face remained poised, composed—a faint smile playing on my lips as my bodyguards flanked me, creating a barrier between me and the overzealous crowd. I didn’t answer their questions. Not yet. I let the confidence radiate from me, my chin held high as I walked toward the entrance of the grand event hall. The paparazzi were relentless, their lenses tracking my
Cole's POV I leaned against the sleek black car parked outside the industrial event hall, watching the last of the guests trickle out. The evening had gone as expected, with handshakes and back-patting from the old guard, a few promising discussions about potential mergers, and, of course, the usual fawning admiration. Everyone wanted a piece of Cole Grayson. Everyone, that is, except Emily Hart. I shoved my hands into my pockets and let out a quiet chuckle, shaking my head. Emily Hart. She hadn’t just ignored my handshake…she’d downright dismissed me, as though I were some insignificant pest. No one had ever treated me like that, not in all my thirty years. “Too full of herself,” I muttered under my breath. “That’s what she is.” But there was something else about her, something that gnawed at the edges of my mind. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but she seemed familiar. The curve of her face, the fire in her eyes when she looked at me…it wasn’t just confidence. It was somethin
Emily's POV. The air in my father’s study was thick with tension, and my voice rose so high that I thought the walls might actually crack. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I yelled, pacing back and forth across the hardwood floor, my heels clicking like gunfire. “You expect me to marry Cole Grayson? That arrogant, self-absorbed…” I stopped mid-rant, my chest heaving, and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You can’t be serious!” My father, ever the picture of calmness, sat in his leather chair, his elbows resting on the armrests, his hands folded neatly in front of him. He regarded me with the same infuriating neutrality he used in board meetings. It was like yelling at a wall. “Yes, Emily,” he said, his voice maddeningly steady. “I mean it. You’re going to marry Cole Grayson.” My jaw dropped. I felt like I’d just been punched in the gut. “You’re actually serious?” I demanded, the disbelief clear in my voice. “You want me to marry him? Today, I meet him for the first time in ye
Emily's POV. The tension in the air was suffocating. My hands were still clenched into fists, nails biting into my palms, but it didn’t make the fury any easier to hold back. I had spent my entire life thinking I had control over my destiny, but now? Now I felt like I was just a pawn in some cruel game between two powerful men. My father, the one person I thought I could trust, was willing to trade me like a commodity. And for what? For him. For Cole. Cole sat across from me, a wall of cold indifference between us. His jaw was tight, his eyes never meeting mine, his posture stiff and uncomfortable. The silence between us was heavy, but it wasn’t the kind of silence that made you think there was still something left to say. No, this silence was suffocating, each passing moment a reminder that this…this situation was happening, and there was nothing I could do about it. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and strained. "I can’t do this, Emily," he said, as if forcing the words out of
Emily's POV. A week ago, I thought the world couldn’t get any worse. I was wrong. The chaos of that evening was nothing compared to the slow suffocation I’d been enduring since. Every second of every day had been a reminder of my entrapment, and now, here I was…sitting in the room of Cole’s father’s house, being painted and polished for a wedding I wanted no part of. “Hold still,” the makeup artist scolded, her tone sharp as she grabbed my chin and angled my face. “Stop frowning, or the eyeliner will smudge.” I clenched my fists in my lap, resisting the urge to shove her hand away. My jaw ached from how tightly I’d been clenching it, and my shoulders were stiff from the tension I couldn’t seem to shake. The more she worked, the more I felt like I was being turned into someone else…someone I didn’t recognize and certainly didn’t want to be. “There, perfect,” she said finally, stepping back with a satisfied smile. I didn’t look at her. I didn’t thank her. I didn’t care. The s
Emily's POV. The church bells had chimed, their hollow sound echoing in my ears as I stepped into the grand space. My stomach churned with every step I took, my heart pounding violently against my ribs. The air smelled of roses and incense, a sickening combination that made my throat tighten. My hands clenched the bouquet of white roses so tightly I felt the thorns pressing into my palms. Around me, people beamed with joy, their eyes glittering with excitement. They didn’t see the farce unfolding before them. They didn’t see the hatred. At the altar, Cole stood tall, his posture rigid, his expression a mask of cold detachment. He was maddeningly perfect in his suit, his dark hair flawlessly styled. I hated him for it. I hated him for everything. My fingers dug deeper into the bouquet, the pain grounding me as I forced myself forward. He didn’t look at me. Not once. Good. I didn’t want him to. The ceremony began, the priest’s voice echoing through the towering stone walls. Th
Cole’s POVI pushed the hotel room door open, already exhausted from the day’s circus. The stench of roses hit me first, cloying and artificial, a reminder of the mockery of a wedding we’d just gone through. Everything about this room screamed over-the-top luxury, from the gold-trimmed wallpaper to the massive bed in the center. My father’s bed. The same one he probably used for his countless affairs.Disgust curled in my stomach. I wasn’t touching that thing.Wonder why it was his bed? This was his hotel and the bed was the biggest size.Emily was already on the couch, wrapped in every single pillow, looking smug as hell. She’d changed into sweatpants and a sweatshirt, her hair messily tied back after she’d ripped out her hairpins like she was fighting off an attack.She looked like she was settling in for a peaceful night’s sleep. Too bad for her…I wasn’t letting this slide.I shut the door harder than necessary. “You took all the pillows.”Emily didn’t even open her eyes. “So?”I s
Emily's POV. The first thing I saw when I woke up was Cole. Not on the bed. Not even on the chair. On the floor. I sat up on the couch, rubbing my eyes, trying to make sense of it. This idiot had actually chosen to sleep on the floor instead of the ridiculously huge bed that his father had arranged for us. I hated the man, but even I had to admit that was a level of stupid I hadn’t expected. My gaze dropped to his face. His jaw was tight even in sleep, like he was still scowling at me in his dreams. His arms were crossed over his chest, his legs stretched out, one foot slightly twitching. For a second, I was tempted, really tempted…to stomp on his foot. Just a little. Just enough to wake him up with a nice jolt of pain. But I held back. Last night had been funny for me, even though I despised him with every bone in my body. Watching him struggle to calm his whiny girlfriend had been pure entertainment. The way his face had twisted in disgust when he swore he’d rather r
Cole’s POVThe water was still now. Calm, undisturbed.A few hours ago, Emily had been swimming in that pool, her hair slicked back, droplets sliding down her skin. I was absent when she went out to swim but I knew exactly what she looked like. Now, the pool was empty. Just like the house. Just like me.I leaned against the balcony railing, gripping it tight. The clock on my phone read 11:07 PM. Four hours since she left. Four hours since her father had forced her to go.And I had done nothing.I exhaled sharply, running a hand down my face. The weight in my chest had been growing, pressing harder with every passing minute. Just standing here, waiting, doing nothing…it was killing me.Then…SCREECH!The violent sound of tires skidding against the ground snapped my head toward the gates. My entire body locked up.A car.A black Camry, speeding toward the estate like it had been chased by the devil himself.The guards rushed to block it, guns drawn…Then, suddenly, the passenger-side wi
Emily’s POVThe drive felt like a funeral procession, only I was the corpse being dragged to my own execution. The two female bodyguards sat on either side of me, their presence suffocating. I didn’t fight them anymore…not because I had given up, but because I refused to give my father the satisfaction of watching me struggle.But my hate? That was alive. Burning.I stared out the tinted window as the city blurred past, my nails digging into my palms. My father’s men drove in silence, the car’s engine the only sound in the stifling air. I could still feel the rough grip of those women on my arms, the way they had dragged me through the house, down the grand staircase, and into the car like I was a damn piece of luggage.My father had finally resorted to brute force.Typical.The car pulled up in front of an expensive restaurant…one of those exclusive places where rich men made dirty deals over overpriced steak and wine. The entire building screamed wealth, from the polished black exte
Emily’s POVI sat on the edge of my old bed, my arms wrapped around myself, my nails digging into my skin. My body was still wet from the pool, my swimsuit clinging to me like a second skin, but I didn’t care. The cold air in the room did nothing to cool the fire burning inside me.Everything about this place made my skin crawl.The walls were the same dull beige, the curtains the same expensive silk my father insisted on. The chandelier overhead glowed too bright, the same way it had when I was a teenager locked in this house, suffocating under his rules.Four months.That was how long it had been since I left this place. Since I married Cole and walked out of here.And now I was back.Dragged here like a puppet in my father’s twisted game.I clenched my teeth, my jaw tight, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might break through my ribs. The fury inside me was a living thing, coiled and waiting to explode.I should have fought harder.I should have screamed louder, clawed at him,
Cole’s POVI couldn’t breathe.She was gone.I stood there, fists clenched so tight my nails cut into my palms, staring at the empty driveway where the car had disappeared. My mind couldn’t process what had just happened. It felt like someone had reached inside my chest and ripped my heart out while I was still alive.Emily had walked away.Not because she wanted to. Not because she stopped loving me. But because she was trying to protect me.That thought made it worse.I ran a hand through my hair, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. My men were still there, waiting for my command. The tension in the air was thick, like it hadn’t settled even after Richard Hart had taken her. My own bodyguards had their hands on their guns, still on high alert.I should have stopped her. I should have grabbed her, thrown her over my shoulder, and locked every door in this damn house. But I knew Emily. She wasn’t someone I could cage, no matter how much I wanted to.I let out a sharp breath and
Emily’s POV“If Cole tries to stop me, there will be bullets in the air.”My father’s words still rang in my ears, making completely unsettled.And then, it happened.A gunshot.Loud. Sharp.My heart nearly leaped out of my chest as the sound tore through the tense silence, echoing across the courtyard. One of my father’s men had fired into the air, his grip steady, his face blank.For a second, everything froze.Then, chaos erupted.Cole’s bodyguards moved instantly, pulling their weapons with the precision of trained professionals. The men my father had brought with him did the same, their guns raised, their fingers twitching near the triggers.The air became charged, electric with the promise of violence. My breath hitched as I stared at the two groups facing each other, weapons drawn, ready to fire at the slightest provocation.One wrong move, and people would die."STOP!" I screamed, my voice cracking with panic.No one moved.My father stood tall, his expression blank, unmoved b
Emily’s POVThe cool water wrapped around me like silk as I drifted on my back, staring up at the evening sky. The pool lights had blue shimmer, reflecting against the marble tiles of the mansion’s courtyard. It was quiet…peaceful even. For the first time in days, my mind wasn’t racing. No thoughts about Mateo Vasquez, my father’s ridiculous attempts at controlling my life, or Vanessa’s insanity. Just silence and the soft ripple of water.Then, I heard it.A commotion. Raised voices.I blinked, lowering my body into the water. My fingers clenched into a fist as I turned my head toward the mansion’s entrance. Something was happening.I swam to the edge of the pool, pulling myself up. My wet hair clung to my back as I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around myself. The voices grew louder, and I caught sight of multiple black SUVs parked in the driveway. The headlights were still on, casting long shadows over the garden.Men in suits. Guns strapped to their sides.My father’s men.And the
Cole’s POVMateo was about to learn that power meant nothing when you had no control.I sat in the backseat of my car, parked a block away from his hotel, scrolling through the latest report on Vanessa. She was still on the run, slipping through every crack like a damn ghost.This morning, I’d gotten an update…Vanessa had killed a police officer. Slit his throat right there on the road, like it meant nothing. But what caught my attention more? She wasn’t alone.A man was with her.Ronan.From what I’d gathered, he wasn’t some criminal mastermind or hired gun. Just a guy who had made the mistake of getting tangled up in Vanessa’s mess. Maybe he thought he was helping her. Maybe he had no idea who she really was.Didn’t matter. He was shielding her now, and that made him a problem.But Vanessa could wait. Tonight, I had something else to handle.Mateo.…7:00 PM.Mateo walked into the hotel like he owned the city.Four bodyguards surrounded him as he strode across the marble floors of t
Vanessa’s POVThe rain pelted against the windshield as we sped down the empty highway. The motel was miles behind us, swallowed by the darkness, but my pulse was still racing. Ronan’s hands gripped the wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. The only sound was the tires skidding slightly on the wet pavement and the low hum of the engine.I sat in the passenger seat, my hoodie pulled low over my face, my fingers drumming against my knee. The air inside the car was thick, tense. I could tell Ronan was pissed.He hadn’t said a word since we left.Fine. I didn’t care.I stared out the window, my mind still burning with the same rage. Emily. Cole. They were all that mattered now. I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life running like some helpless little girl. No. I was going to take back control.Then…Flashing lights.Blue and red, dancing in the rearview mirror.Ronan cursed under his breath.“Shit.”I turned my head sharply, my heartbeat picking up.A cop.His patrol car was righ
Vanessa’s POVThe motel was a dump.Peeling wallpaper curled at the edges, revealing dark stains underneath. The carpet was stained with things I didn’t want to think about. The whole place reeked of old cigarettes, mildew, and cheap beer, the kind of filth that clung to your skin no matter how hard you scrubbed. The bed creaked under me as I shifted, the springs groaning in protest.Ronan had made me disguise myself before we even got close to this hellhole. He had taken scissors to my hair, hacking off just enough to make me look different. I had nearly clawed his eyes out for that. Then he shoved an oversized hoodie at me, one that drowned my frame, and told me to wear it along with a pair of cheap sunglasses. The final insult was a baseball cap he tossed at me like I was some runaway teenager instead of Vanessa Kings.I used to wear couture. Silk, cashmere, the kind of fabrics people only dreamed of touching. Now I was drowning in polyester and denim that didn’t fit. My nails dug