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Chapter 47: Blood in the Water
Last Updated:
2025-08-09 23:12:29
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Claiming Emery Chapter 49: Claimed Territory
“Victory tastes like champagne and feels like Killian's hands on my waist.”“That’s the idea,” he says against my ear, his voice rich with satisfaction as we stand at the penthouse window watching the city spread below us like a conquered kingdom. “Not a single dissenting vote.”The boardroom had been electric two hours ago, but not with the hostile energy we'd grown accustomed to. This was different—the charged atmosphere of powerful men realizing they'd nearly destroyed something valuable, now scrambling to prove their worth to the predator who'd just reminded them exactly who controlled their world.“Margaret looked like she might faint when she proposed expanding your executive powers,” I say, remembering how the usually unflappable board member had stumbled over her carefully prepared speech.“Good. Fear keeps them focused.” His fingers trace lazy patterns on my hip through the silk of my dress. “And focused board members make better decisions.”Killian's phone lights up on the m
Claiming Emery Chapter 48: The Reckoning
“The boardroom feels like a gladiator arena, and you're dressed for war.”I stood beside Killian as he adjusted his charcoal suit jacket, the morning light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Wolfe Tower's thirty-second floor. Below us, the city bustled with ordinary Friday morning chaos—coffee runs, taxi horns, people rushing to meetings that wouldn't change their lives forever.“Good,’’ he said, his voice carrying that particular edge that meant someone was about to have a very bad day. “That's exactly what this is.”The boardroom stretched before us like a battlefield, its mahogany table polished to mirror brightness. Twelve leather chairs waited for their occupants, but only eleven would leave with their dignity intact. David Henley entered first, with briefcase in hand, wearing the kind of confident smile that meant he still thought he was orchestrating this meeting. Behind him came the other board members—Harold Thorne, Patricia Kim—all trying to look casual while
Claiming Emery Chapter 47: Blood in the Water
“The photos are everywhere, but your smile is sharper than any headline.”Mel spread five different newspapers across the kitchen counter like she was dealing cards in a poker game where everyone was about to lose. The images were brutal—me standing in my wine-stained dress and composed while Killian looked ready to commit murder, and the crowd watching our humiliation like spectators at a gladiator match.But something was different in these headlines. Where I'd expected mockery, but I found something entirely different.“Sinclair Stands Strong Under Attack,” I read aloud. “Grace Under Fire: How Emery Handled Society's Cruelest Test.”Killian leaned against the marble counter, with a coffee cup in his hand, with a sharp smile. He'd been making calls since five AM, his voice carrying through the penthouse in low, dangerous tones that made my stomach flutter with something between excitement and fear.“The narrative shifted overnight,” Mel said, clearly still processing the turn of ev
Claiming Emery Chapter 46: Masks and Fractures
I grip the makeup brush handle so tightly that it left lines in my palm. I sat on my dressing mirror and watched as Killian paceed behind me, his phone pressed to his ear, already deep in damage control mode for a night that hadn't even started.His tuxedo jacket hung over the chair like a costume waiting for its actor. Everything about tonight would be a performance—the smiles, the small talk, the carefully display of unity. My red dress was chosen not because I loved it, but because it photographed well under harsh camera lights.“Smile tonight,” I said without looking up from my reflection. “Just for the cameras.”His pacing stopped. “smiling isn't really nmy thing, you know that.”I met his eyes in the mirror. The makeup brush trembled slightly in my hand.“Then that's going to be a problem.”Neither of us smiled.~~~~The Whitmore Gala sprawled across the entire top floor of the Meridian Hotel, crystal chandeliers casting rainbow patterns on marble floors while string quartets pl
Claiming Emery Chapter 45: The Choice
The city stretched below me like broken glass catching morning light. Steam rose from coffee cups on distant balconies, taxis honked through invisible traffic jams, and somewhere down there, people were living ordinary lives that didn't revolve around board meetings, hostile takeovers, and press briefings.I pressed my palm against the cool window and watched Killian's reflection as he moved behind me. He had been on the phone for over twenty minutes, his voice low and clipped, shoulders had gone rigid. Even in reflection, I could see the tension carved into every line of his body.He ended the call and set the phone down with the kind of careful control that meant he wanted to throw it through the wall.“Whatever it is,” I said without turning around, “just say it. I would rather bleed with you than be left in the dark.”His silence lasted for more than three minutes.“If you bleed, I lose,” he said finally, each word measured. “If I lose, they win.”I didn't ask who ‘they’ were. We
Claiming Emery Chapter 44: Ghosts Who Knew My Name
“You're staring at that phone like it might bite you.”Killian's voice cuts through the morning silence. He has been at his desk for hours, going through the files Alec had left behind, and his concentration was sharp. He has gotten up from the chair since Alec left. But he's watching me too, always watching.I gripped my coffee mug tighter, staring at the contact name on my screen accusingly: Harper. The woman I told my secret to, the woman who was there even during my college days, who painted my nails during the college final. The same woman advised me to stay strong after my divorce from Tobias, the same person who held my hand at charity galas when others poured champagne on me.That same woman who sold me out.“I need to make a call.”“About last night?”“About everything.”Killian finally set down his papers, his piercing blue-gray eyes stared at mine from across the room, and I saw the question in his eye that he had refused to ask. Trust had been a fragile glass between us—on
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