EMILIA The days on the cruise go by quickly. Or maybe I’m the only one who sees it like that, maybe time isn’t passing quickly, it’s just that I don’t care enough anymore about everything that would have once killed me on the inside. And this time feels different. Because this time… I have Liam. Liam, who isn’t scared to post public statements defending me. Liam, who shares pictures of us on his socials — even if it doesn’t stop the whispers from those articles or that mysterious “source,” he does it anyway, like he’s proud to be seen with me. And I don’t feel anything for him. Obviously. Still, somehow, he’s managed to become this… constant. Someone I know will be there when everything else gets loud. Someone who shows up, even when I don’t ask. I’ve tried to ignore it. Tried to pretend I don’t notice the small things. Like yesterday, when I finally asked him why he always picks the non-seafood meals. I mean, it’s not like he has to. It’s just me with the seafood allergy. H
The silence makes my skin crawl.I anxiously drum my fingers against the railing, while Adrian stays quiet on the other end. It takes a few long, fumbling seconds before I finally hear him breathe out, “Oh.”“Yeah.”“Um— shit. Sorry. I just… wasn’t expecting this. At all.” He sounds like he's scrambling, words tripping over each other. “How are you? Wait — no, is that even the right thing to ask? Should I still call you Emily? Or it’s Emilia now, right? God, I’m messing this up, aren’t I?”“Adrian,” I laugh softly, almost despite myself. The awkwardness in his voice is achingly familiar. Some things really don’t change. “Emily, Emilia — it doesn’t matter. And you can relax. My parents still don’t know you’re the one with the rest of his sculptures.”I hear the nervousness leave him all at once, like a balloon deflating. “Oh. Well… that’s a relief.”“Did I catch you at a bad time?” I ask, guilt creeping in. “I can call back later if—”“No! No, you’re fine. It’s fine.” Honestly, I would
EMILIAIt hurts. God, it hurts to hear her say that. But I also know exactly what it’s like to love someone who never chooses you. And I think of Liam, who I can never choose. My chest twists and that wound he left starts stinging again. So I take a breath and say the only thing I can. “…Okay.” “Can we please talk about this mess now?” I hear a loud thud, like something heavy just hit her desk. Yep — she’s definitely in her home office. Because Tessa, unlike normal human beings, thinks stress is a hobby and work is therapy. Sometimes, I wonder if she throws herself into work because she’s chasing the stable life her dad never gave her… Or if it’s just her way of coping — trying to fill the emptiness he left behind when he made her feel like she was never enough. “What the hell happened?” she snaps. “I swear to God, I’m going to kill that bastard.” I pause, chewing on my bottom lip. There’s no easy way to say this. No cute joke to soften the blow. So I do the hard thing. The
EMILIAIf you ask, I probably won’t be able to explain what the hell just happened.The image of Liam, screaming back at me, shouting declarations I’m sure he doesn’t even mean, then giving me a smile that steals the breath from my lungs like I didn’t just turn him down.Christ.I push Liam to the very back of my mind, holding the blanket tighter to me.First thing I do is check my phone.[BREAKING: Sources Claim Emily Vanderbilt, Billionaire Heiress and Liam Calloway’s Girlfriend, Allegedly Cheated With Chicago Blizzards’ Stone Maxwell last night!] [EXCLUSIVE: Insider Claims Emily Vanderbilt Cheated on Liam Calloway With Hockey Star Stone Maxwell][Puck Bunny or Heartbreaker? Sources Allege Emily Vanderbilt’s Secret Affair With Stone Maxwell] [JUST IN: Allegations Fly as Emily Vanderbilt Accused of Cheating on Liam Calloway With Zane Whitmoore’s Teammate][Sources Spill: Liam Calloway’s Blow-Up With Stone Maxwell Allegedly Tied to Emily Vanderbilt]Me. Liam. Stone. And some mysteri
EMILIAWhat the hell do I even say to that?I just... stare at him. Like an idiot. My mouth opens, but no words come out.Liam gives me this small, sad smile — dimples and all — and somehow that’s worse. It knocks the air right out of my lungs.“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs. His thumb brushes lightly against my hand, like he’s trying to memorize the feel of me. “I didn’t say it because I expected you to.”A million responses spin through my brain — yes, no, maybe, kiss me — but none of them make it out.So instead, I blurt out, “I still don’t forgive you.”His lips twitch. “Deserved.”“And you’re going to have to work for it,” I add, trying — and failing — to sound stern.Liam leans in just a little, like he can’t help himself. His voice drops low, almost like a secret. “Well,” he says, that crooked smile stealing the air from my lungs, “I’d look better begging on my knees anyway.”My heart absolutely short-circuits. And judging by the wicked glint in his eyes, he knows
EMILIAPRESENT TIMEI wake up with a sharp breath, like I’ve just hit the surface after drowning.He's gone again.My chest rises and falls like I’ve been running, chasing something I can’t have. I don’t scream, even though I want to. The pain sits there, right beneath my ribcage, steady and sharp.I feel the wetness on my face. My pillow is soaked. I’m not surprised — I don’t even try to wipe the tears away this time. I just lie there in the silence, with my eyes closed letting the ache settle.Letting the cloud of nostalgia and longing pass so I can finally remember where I am.Where I’m supposed to be.But I don’t fall apart.Not like I used to.I take a deep breath and put a hand over my chest, like I’m trying to hold myself together. The grief is still there. It probably always will be. But so is something else.Me.For a second, I don’t know where I am. I’m still half in the dream — chocolate on our fingers, Luther’s laugh echoing in the kitchen, his hand in my hair, warm and fa
EMILIALuther always leaves the kitchen lights on.Every. Single. Time.It’s why Diana says he has the stealth of a dying elephant and why Mum cuts his allowance every time she finds out he’s raided the fridge at midnight.“Everything in life is a choice,” Mum always says, flipping through her morning paper, while Dad rubs her shoulders and nods like she’s preaching gospel. “And unfortunately, that includes your poor career decisions. If you choose to be a criminal, at least be a competent one.”So yeah — tonight is no different.I tiptoe down the stairs, socked feet silent on the wood, already mentally preparing my ‘caught you red-handed’ speech.The kitchen lights are on. The fridge door’s wide open.And someone’s standing there.I scowl. Rookie mistake, Luther. Mum would’ve had your head if the staff weren’t all gone for the holidays.When I walk into the kitchen, I find Luther sitting on the counter.He’s sketching something on his iPad with his Apple Pencil, completely in his own
EMILIAThey say ignorance is bliss.Whoever said that has never buried their brother.I stand in the rain, dressed in all black, clutching an umbrella like it can hold me together. But nothing can. Not today.My eyes blur as I stare at the headstone:Luther Christian Vanderbilt(1995–2018)Just seeing it makes it hard to breathe.In front of me, my mother — always perfect, always cold — is on the ground, sobbing like a child. Her elegant coat is soaked, her hands shaking as she reaches for the gravestone like she can pull him back.My father stands beside her, trying to hold the umbrella over them both, but he’s crying too hard to see straight.And then there’s my little sister, Diana, standing beside me, shaking with anger and grief. She looks so much like Luther when she smiles and like me when she cries.But she’s not smiling now.She’s sobbing — and every tear feels like a dagger.“Was it worth it?” she snaps. Her voice is loud enough for people to turn. She doesn’t care. “Tell me
LIAMEIGHT HOURS AGOI don’t think.I can’t.Because if I let myself process what I’m seeing — what he was trying to do to her — I’ll lose it completely.Stone has Emilia backed against the wall, and the look on her face? Pure fear. Her eyes are wide, glassy. She’s frozen, small, shaking.My heart nearly stops.Then something inside me snaps.I yank him off her, and without hesitating, I throw my fist at his jaw.CRACK.The sound is sickening, but satisfying.“Shit!” Stone stumbles, clutching his face. He looks at me like he’s just now realising he messed with the wrong person.But I’m not even close to done.All I can see is her — Emilia. Scared. Cornered. Pressed against that damn wall by someone who thought he had the right to touch her.My vision goes red.I grab him by the collar and slam him back against the wall.“Touch her again,” I growl, my voice low and shaking with rage, “and I swear to God, I’ll kill you.”Another punch. Harder this time.Stone drops to the floor, groanin