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 every move, but I was used to it by now. This was my life. The youngest, most successful female CEO in the city—Emily Hart. The doors to the hall opened, and the chaos outside was replaced by the refined elegance of the event within. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting a warm glow over the sea of tuxedos and evening gowns. I paused for a moment, taking it all in. My father’s friends—men who had dominated the industrial sector for decades—milled about, champagne flutes in hand, their laughter mingling with the soft strains of classical music. A tall figure emerged from the crowd—my father. His proud smile was unmistakable as he made his way toward me, his hand outstretched. “There she is,” he said warmly, his voice full of pride. “The woman of the hour.” “Dad,” I said, shaking his hand before pulling him into a brief hug. “You’re the one who built this empire. I’m just steering the ship.” “And you’re doing a damn fine job of it,” he replied, his eyes crinkling with genuine pride. As we moved further into the room, several high-profile figures turned their attention to me. One by one, they came forward to introduce themselves, their words dripping with admiration and curiosity. “Emily, I’ve heard so much about you,” one man said, extending his hand. “Henry Calloway, CEO of Calloway Industries. Your work in the tech sector has been impressive, to say the least.” “Thank you, Mr. Calloway,” I replied, my tone polite yet assertive. “We’ve been focusing on innovation and sustainability—it’s the way forward, don’t you think?” Another woman, dressed in an elegant black gown, approached next. “Emily, I’m Evelyn Carter. Your partnership with GreenTech last quarter was brilliant. You’re setting a new standard for leadership.” “Thank you, Ms. Carter,” I said with a small smile. “We believe collaboration is key. No empire is built in isolation.” The conversations flowed seamlessly, each exchange reinforcing the respect I’d worked so hard to earn. My father stood nearby, watching with an expression that spoke volumes. He was proud of me, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I truly belonged in his world. As the evening progressed, I moved through the crowd with ease, exchanging greetings and pleasantries, my confidence unwavering. I was no longer the girl who had been humiliated in a university hallway. No longer the girl whose tears had blurred her vision as she ran from the cruel laughter. I was Emily Hart, CEO of Hart Enterprises. And this was my moment. The applause was deafening as I stood at the podium, staring out at the sea of well-dressed professionals who had gathered for tonight’s event. My speech had started smoothly, detailing Hart Enterprises’ vision for the future and the strides we’d made in sustainable development. I spoke with the confidence of someone who had clawed her way to the top, earning every bit of respect the room gave me. But then he walked in. At first, I wasn’t sure it was real. The double doors at the back of the hall opened with a subtle yet undeniable presence, and in strode a man surrounded by bodyguards. His dark, tailored suit hugged his tall, broad frame perfectly, and his chiseled jawline was more defined than I remembered. My stomach churned as his familiar, self-assured smirk spread across his face, and I recognized him instantly. Cole Grayson. The same Cole who had humiliated me all those years ago. The same Cole who had ruined my self-worth, made me the laughingstock of my peers, and drove me to transfer schools just to escape the endless torment. He looked... different. Older. More polished. But the arrogance in his stride and the casual way he adjusted his cufflinks told me he hadn’t changed one bit. My breath caught in my throat, and my carefully rehearsed words faltered. I blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but my brain was screaming at me to run. “…and that’s why… um… innovation is at the core of Hart Enterprises,” I said, my voice uneven. I caught my father’s concerned glance from the front row and knew I had to wrap this up before I completely lost my composure. “Thank you for your time,” I concluded hastily, stepping away from the microphone as applause erupted. I descended the stage, plastering a neutral expression on my face even as my heart raced wildly. The moment I was out of the spotlight, I exhaled shakily, gripping the edge of a nearby table to steady myself. How could he be here? Why was he here? I quickly regained my composure, smoothing my suit and joining the mingling crowd. The event was winding down, with guests exchanging pleasantries and business cards. My father beckoned me over, standing beside Nicholas Grayson, one of his longtime friends and a prominent figure in the industry. “Emily,” my father said, his voice brimming with pride. “I want you to meet Nicholas’s son, Cole. He just got back to town after spending three years abroad managing Grayson Corp’s international operations.” My entire body stiffened as Cole turned to face me, his expression unreadable but professional. “Emily Hart,” he said smoothly, extending a hand. His voice was deeper now, more refined, but it still carried that maddening air of superiority I remembered all too well. I stared at his hand but didn’t take it. Instead, I met his gaze with a cold, neutral expression and nodded curtly. “Mr. Grayson,” I said simply, keeping my voice flat. Cole raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by my reaction, but he quickly recovered. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, lowering his hand. “Hart Enterprises has been making waves recently. Impressive work.” I didn’t respond. Instead, I turned to my father and began discussing an unrelated topic, deliberately ignoring Cole as if he were a ghost. My father, oblivious to the tension, beamed at us both. “Isn’t it great to see the next generation taking the reins, Nicholas?” he said, clapping Nicholas on the back. Nicholas nodded, smiling warmly. “Absolutely. We should schedule a meeting for these two to discuss potential collaborations. What do you think, Cole?” Cole glanced at me, his jaw tightening slightly. “Of course. I’d be happy to.” I didn’t even acknowledge his words, my focus entirely on my father. “I’ll check my schedule,” I said, my tone dismissive. The men continued talking, but I tuned them out, my mind swirling with memories I’d buried for years. Cole had no idea who I was—or at least, he pretended not to. But I remembered him. I remembered the way his words had cut me like knives, the way his mocking laughter had echoed in my ears for weeks. I remembered the shame, the tears, the relentless whispers and stares from my classmates. And I remembered the video, immortalizing my humiliation on the school blog for everyone to see. That humiliation had shaped me, hardened me. It had driven me to become the woman I was today—smart, confident, and untouchable. But seeing him again brought back every ounce of pain and rage I’d buried. As the men continued their conversation, I excused myself and walked away, my heels clicking against the marble floor. I needed space, air, anything to stop the memories from flooding back. Cole Grayson had come back into my life. And I despised him with every fiber of my being.Cole's POVI 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 something perso
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 years, an
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 his m
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 second she l
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. The words b
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 rot in prison th
Emily's POVThis was already the worst honeymoon ever, but somehow, life just kept finding new ways to make it worse.I sat on the stupid boat, arms crossed, staring out at the ocean while Cole lounged beside me like he didn’t have a single care in the world. The tour guide was going on and on about some historical nonsense, but I wasn’t listening. I didn’t care. The only reason I was here was because Cole’s father had booked the damn thing, and backing out would’ve given him more reasons to be an insufferable control freak.Cole shifted, stretching out his legs like he owned the place. “You look thrilled,” he muttered, not even glancing at me.“Wow. It only took you thirty minutes to notice?” I shot back, arms still crossed.He smirked. “What? You don’t like the ocean?”“I don’t like being stuck on a boat with you.”His smirk widened like he found that funny. “Right back at you, sweetheart.”I rolled my eyes and turned away, watching the water. The sky had been bright when we got on,
Emily's POV.I stood by the window, arms crossed, my back to Cole. The city stretched out in front of me, lights blinking, cars moving, the world going on like nothing was wrong. Inside this room, though, the air was thick, suffocating. Cole stood behind me, his presence pressing against my back like a weight I refused to acknowledge. He had forced his way in, tracked me down like a desperate man clinging to something already gone.I didn’t turn around. I didn’t give him the satisfaction."Say whatever you want, Cole. It won’t change a damn thing," I said, reaching for the whiskey bottle on the counter. I poured myself a drink, the liquid steadying me.But Cole wasn’t leaving. His father’s threats must have been ringing in his ears. The humiliation, the headlines, the fear of losing everything…it was crashing down on him. His silence stretched long enough that I knew he was struggling to keep it together."Do you really hate me that much?" His voice was low, rough, like he was barely
Cole's POV.I had always been a man who got what he wanted. Connections, wealth, influence…I had them all. But none of that mattered now if I couldn’t find Emily.The moment she walked out on me, my entire world had gone to hell. The media had gotten wind of the story. My father had called, yelling through the phone, making it clear that if Emily wasn’t back as my wife within 24 hours, Greyson Corps would be handed over to my cousin.I wasn’t about to let that happen.I had spent the entire day making calls, pulling every string I could. The best private investigators, cybersecurity experts, and even a few underground contacts…I spared no expense. I needed to find her before it was too late.By evening, I got a lead.She had checked into one of the most expensive hotels in the city. The irony wasn’t lost on me. She wasn’t hiding. She wasn’t running. She was waiting.For what?To watch me crumble? To see how far I would go?Whatever it was, I didn’t care.By 9 PM, I was standing outsid
Cole's POV.The world was burning, and I was standing in the middle of it, phone in hand, watching my life collapse in real-time.Every major news outlet, every gossip blog, every social media platform was eating up the scandal like it was the juiciest story of the year."Emily Hart Walks Out on Cole Greyson Just 2 Days After Their Wedding!" "Hart Heiress Flees Honeymoon Suite – Trouble in Billionaire Paradise?" "Cole Greyson Left Behind as His Bride Vanishes!"The photos were everywhere—Emily walking out of the hotel, her posture elegant despite her ruined dress, make-up and birdnest of a hair. Even her expression was unreadable. The press had caught her getting into a black car. And her wedding ring nowhere in sight.Meanwhile, I was stuck here, trapped in this disaster of my own making.I exhaled sharply, gripping my phone so tightly my knuckles turned white.This was bad.The internet was a wildfire, and I was at the center of it. People were talking…laughing, judging, feasting
Emily's POV.The car ride was silent except for the soft hum of the engine. I stared out the window, watching the city come alive under the morning sun. Skyscrapers, pedestrians, coffee shops, life was moving forward, and so was I.Cole and his pathetic little girlfriend were behind me now, exactly where they belonged.I leaned back against the seat, rubbing my temple. My dress still clung to my body, wrinkled and ruined from last night. The expensive fabric felt suffocating. My makeup…God, I didn’t even want to look at my face. I probably looked like something out of a horror movie.“Straight home, Miss Hart?” my driver, Leo, asked from the front seat.I thought about it. Home. What was that even supposed to mean? The mansion I grew up in? The penthouse I bought to escape that mansion? Or the prison of a hotel Cole trapped me in?“No,” I said. “Take me to the Ritz. I need a suite.”Leo nodded, no questions asked. That’s why I liked him. He did his job without treating me like a fragi
Emily's POV.Cole, to his credit, didn’t react immediately. He stood by the window, shoulders tensing just slightly, before he turned around with the calmness of a man who had dealt with this kind of chaos before.He exhaled through his nose, then walked toward Vanessa, completely unbothered. "It’s fine," he said, addressing the staff. "You can go.""But, sir, we tried to stop her…""I said it’s fine," Cole repeated, giving them a pointed look.The staff exchanged hesitant glances before bowing slightly and retreating out of the room, closing the door behind them.Now, it was just the three of us.Vanessa looked like she was about to explode. Her hands were shaking, her breaths coming in short gasps, and her perfectly manicured nails dug into her palms.Cole reached for her, his voice lowering. "Vanessa, calm down."She smacked his hand away. "Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!" Her voice cracked with emotion. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?!"Cole sighed and ran a hand th
Emily's POV.A groan slipped out before I could stop it. My head felt like it had been used as a punching bag, and my body ached in places I didn’t even know could ache. My throat was dry, my limbs stiff, and an odd tingling sensation ran through my arms.I blinked against the harsh sunlight streaming through the large windows, trying to remember where the hell I was. My vision blurred for a moment, then cleared just enough to make out the luxurious hotel room…the honeymoon suite, to be exact.And then I saw him.Cole.Sitting in a chair near the bed, legs stretched out lazily, arms crossed over his chest, watching me like he had all the time in the world. His expression was unreadable, but there was something about the way his lips curled at the corners, like he was amused.My stomach twisted. Why was he here?"You’ve got to be kidding me," I muttered, squeezing my eyes shut as if I could make him disappear by sheer willpower."Good morning to you too, sweetheart." His voice was deep
Cole’s POV"Emily."No response.I shook her slightly, my heart hammering."Emily, wake up. Come on."Still nothing.Her breathing was shallow, her skin too warm. The terror, the shock…it had all been too much for her."Damn it," I muttered, running a hand through my hair.The elevator was still moving up, but I barely noticed. All I could see was Emily, lying there, her face pale, her lips slightly parted.For years, I told myself I didn’t care about her. That what happened between us was in the past. But seeing her like this? Completely defenseless?It did something to me.I clenched my jaw, reaching forward. Without thinking, I slid my arms under her and lifted her against my chest.She was too still. Too quiet."Just hold on, okay?" I muttered under my breath.The elevator dinged. The doors slid open.And suddenly, we were met with chaos.A cluster of hotel staff and security stood outside, their faces twisted in panic. Some gasped. Others immediately rushed forward."Sir! Mr. Gre
Emily’s POV.The second the elevator doors shut, I felt the walls closing in. Not because of the tight space…but because of him. Cole Greyson. The one man I never wanted to be alone with.I folded my arms, letting out a sharp breath. “Perfect. Just perfect.”Cole leaned against the wall, adjusting his cufflinks like he hadn’t just ruined my entire night. “You’re welcome.”My head snapped toward him. “Excuse me?”“You said ‘perfect.’ I assumed you were thanking me.” His smirk was lazy, smug, infuriating.My hands curled into fists. “You seriously have zero self-awareness.”His eyes flicked toward me, cool and disinterested. “And you have zero gratitude.”A bitter laugh left my lips. “Gratitude? For what? For having to fake a marriage with the one person I hate most in this world? Yeah, thanks a lot, Cole.”He shrugged. “You didn’t have to say yes.”I stepped closer, fire burning through my veins. “You think I wanted this?”He tilted his head. “No. But you agreed. That’s on you.”I wan
Cole's POV.I could feel the nerves creeping up, even though I was doing everything in my power to act like I was fine. The situation had me on edge as the PR team ushered us to the waiting cars. The cameras would be rolling soon. The journalists would be eager, asking about our “fast” romance, how we managed to fall in love and marry in such a short time. The bullshit we'd have to sell tonight would be the final act in this ridiculous drama.Emily was standing beside me, her arms crossed, giving off the vibe that she was barely holding it together. Her lips were pressed into a tight line, the kind of line I’d seen a hundred times when she was pretending to be happy. If she only knew how little I cared about her discomfort. We both had a job to do, and I was about to make sure she remembered hers.I could tell she was putting on the perfect mask though. Her makeup was flawless, every inch of her looked like she was ready for a magazine cover, and I hated that she could pull it off s