All Chapters of Twisted Fate: Chapter 71 - Chapter 75

James sat in his home office, the soft glow of his desk lamp illuminating the scattered papers before him. His mind was a whirlwind, consumed by Emma’s growing defiance and the precarious state of his plans. His phone vibrated for the fifth time in the last hour, the screen lighting up with Sarah’s name. He clenched his jaw, refusing to answer.A few moments later, another message popped up: "James, you can’t ignore me forever. Call me now, or I’ll handle this my way."He cursed under his breath, tossing his pen onto the desk. “Damn it, Sarah,” he muttered. The last thing he needed was for her to create more chaos in his already fragile situation. With a resigned sigh, he picked up the phone and dialed her number.The call connected almost instantly. “Finally!” Sarah’s voice was sharp, laced with frustration. “What the hell, James? You’ve been ignoring my calls and texts for days.”“I&r

James stood in the kitchen, the faint aroma of rosemary and garlic filling the air. He wiped his hands on a towel, glancing nervously at the clock. Emma would be home soon. He had spent the entire day preparing her favorite meal—grilled salmon with creamy mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus. It wasn’t just about the food; it was about the message he hoped to send.He wanted her to know he was trying. That he was sorry. That he couldn’t lose her.When the front door opened, James quickly straightened his shirt, running a hand through his hair. He plastered a smile on his face as Emma stepped into the living room, her heels clicking against the wooden floor.“Emma,” he greeted warmly. “You’re home.”She paused, her sharp gaze cutting through him. “I can see that, James. What is it this time?”He gestured toward the dining table, which was set with candles and her favorite white-and-gold china. &ldqu

Emma laughed softly as she adjusted the collar of Mark’s suit, her fingers brushing against his chest. They stood in the office conference room, the sunlight streaming through the glass walls, casting a golden hue over them. Mark grinned at her, his eyes filled with warmth, as if they shared an inside joke no one else could understand. “Honestly, Mark,” Emma teased, stepping back to admire her handiwork, “if I didn’t step in to save you, you’d walk into this meeting looking like a wrinkled mess.” Mark chuckled, his voice low and smooth. “That’s why I keep you around, Emma. You’re not just the brains of this operation—you’re also the style police.” Their laughter echoed through the room, a stark contrast to the tension radiating from James, who stood just outside the conference room, watching them through the glass. His jaw clenched as he saw Emma place a hand on Mark’s arm, her touch lingering just a second too long. When the meeting concluded, Emma and Mark