CHAPTER 8 - Family Ties and Gut Feeling

Emma didn’t expect a handwritten note from Eleanor Blacke. It arrived two days after the brunch, on thick cream stationery and sealed with the family crest. Maria brought it to her that morning, smiling more than usual.

“A letter for you, ma’am. From Madam Eleanor herself.”

Emma thanked her, though her fingers tensed around the paper. She waited until she was alone before reading it.

My dear Emma,

I hope this note finds you well. It was such a pleasure having you at the family brunch. I meant it when I said you were a breath of fresh air.

I know these events can be overwhelming. So I’ve taken the liberty of inviting just a few close friends over this weekend. I do hope you’ll come. No pressure, of course, but I would be so pleased to spend time with you.

Yours,

Eleanor Blacke

Emma closed the letter slowly.

This wasn’t part of the contract. This wasn’t the cold marriage Ace promised. And yet… she couldn’t ignore how warmly Eleanor had looked at her. How much she reminded her of someone she’d once loved and lost, her grandmother, with the same gentle smile, the same warm embrace. Emma sighed, setting the letter down beside her laptop. She’d have to talk to Ace.

Ace wasn’t in his usual seat at breakfast, which meant he was upstairs, probably going over investor decks or buried in emails. But as Emma knocked gently and stepped inside his home office, she found him standing by the window, suit jacket slung over the arm of a chair.

“You got her letter,” he said without turning around. 

Emma blinked. “You knew she’d write?” she asked, her voice laced with surprise.

“She always follows up,” he replied evenly.

“I didn’t expect a follow-up invitation,” she murmured, still trying to read between the lines.

“She likes you,” he said simply, finally glancing over his shoulder.

Emma took a breath. “She invited me. Just me. Small gathering of family friends.”

Ace finally turned. “You don’t have to go.”

“I know,” she said. “But I want to.”

He watched her closely. “She’ll ask questions.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“You’re already doing too much.”

That landed heavier than she expected.

“I’m trying to be respectful,” she replied, voice low. “This is your family. I didn’t ask to be paraded. But I also won’t ignore them. Not when they’ve done nothing wrong.”

Ace didn’t respond.

Just nodded once, then looked away.

The weekend came, and Emma dressed in a soft floral dress this time, which was very elegant and classy. It was a lot warmer than what she wore for the brunch. 

She arrived at the Blacke estate in no time. Maria had offered to drive her, and for once, Emma accepted.

The housekeeper opened the door, beaming. “Mrs. Blacke. Welcome .”

Emma swallowed the instinct to correct her.

In the garden, Eleanor waved her over immediately. “There she is!”

A small group of women and older gentlemen sat with her, sipping iced tea and nibbling tiny pastries. The conversation was casual but curious. Emma answered lightly when asked how she met Ace.

“I knew him in college,” she said.

Eleanor’s eyes twinkled. “And reconnected recently?”

“Something like that.”

They didn’t press. Not directly. But she could feel Patricia’s absence hanging like a ghost behind every word.

One of the older women leaned in. “I’m just so happy Ace finally settled down. We all thought Patricia…”

Eleanor cleared her throat gently, shutting that down.

Emma smiled. “Ace is full of surprises.”

They laughed, but Emma’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

—-----------------

Meanwhile, across town, Ace sat in a private meeting with board members at Blacke Tech, tapping a pen harder than necessary. He hadn’t told Emma, but Patricia had come by again. Uninvited. With wine and questions.

"Patricia is planning for the future. She does not want small wins. She is doing things slowly, making deals, and getting people to like her. She acts like your friend. But later you will see what she really wants. And then it will be too late to stop her." Brian had warned.

But Ace didn’t like games he couldn’t control. And what bothered him more than Patricia… was the way Emma had fit into his family like she belonged. Like she wasn’t pretending. She was too good at this. Too believable. And for reasons he didn’t want to name, that scared him.

—----------------

Back at the estate, Eleanor pulled Emma aside just before she left.

“I don’t know what your arrangement with Ace is,” she said gently. “And I’m not asking.”

Emma blinked. “Pardon?”

Eleanor smiled and said, “You’re intelligent, poised, and private. I see things, dear, and I respect your choices.”

Emma didn’t know what to say.

“I only want you to know this: You’re welcome here. Not because you married Ace, but because you’ve earned your place at this table.”

Emma nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

“And Emma?” Eleanor added, softer. “Whatever it is, don’t let him push you out. Ace needs someone who won’t let go when things get hard.”

That stayed with her all night.

Later, Emma returned to the penthouse and found Ace working again. She leaned on the doorframe, arms folded. “Your grandmother’s scarier than you,” she said.

Ace looked up from his laptop. “She likes you,” he said.

Emma raised an eyebrow. “I can’t tell if that’s a compliment,” she said.

Ace gave a small smile. “It is. She doesn’t like many people.” 

Emma walked into the room and sat on the couch. “She asked me a lot of questions. Felt like an interview.” 

There was a pause.

“She knows something,” Emma said. “Not the details, though, but… she suspects.”

Ace didn’t flinch. “She always suspects.”

Emma stood up and walked towards him. “She told me not to let you push me away.”

His jaw tightened. “Mhmm.”

Emma tilted her head. “Why do you push people away?” she said in a quiet voice.

He didn’t say anything; he didn’t have to because they both knew the answer.