Chapter 3

Emily had security throw me out.

My belongings were dumped at the company entrance like a pile of trash.

I was on my hands and knees, picking them up like some kind of beggar.

Leo ran over to help. His voice was full of pity.

"Mr. Kirkwood… everyone knows how much Ms. Stanton cares about her husband. That's why no one said anything. Someone as hard as her—her private Instagram is nothing but pictures of him and their kid."

"Private Instagram?"

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

Leo handed me his phone.

That was when I learned the truth. Emily had made Ryan public long ago. He was her husband—officially, openly.

The Instagram account she had shared with me was a dead sea. Just her "work profile."

I don't remember how I got home. I was in a fog.

At the villa, the staff was running around, moving my things out of the bedroom.

I frowned and stopped them. "What's going on? Why are you moving my stuff?"

They stammered, eyes darting sideways.

"I told them to."

I turned around. Emily was walking in with Ryan on her arm.

"Ryan got hurt. Your room faces south, best light in the house. It's perfect for him."

She wasn't looking at me. She was focused on straightening Ryan's collar, her fingers brushing gently over the small cut on his forehead.

"Didn't you tell them to move out? Fine. Ryan and Jamie live here now."

I stepped right in front of her, forcing her to look at me.

"Emily, this is our home. You promised you'd give me a home."

Her eyes flickered. She didn't say anything.

My heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles.

My father was a gambler. He drove my mother to her grave. Emily was the one who saved me from that house.

She was just a teenager then. Rain pouring down. She took my hand and made me a promise.

"Daniel, you don't like that home. So I'll give you one."

"Mommy, me and Daddy have nowhere to go."

Jamie's voice pulled me back. He was tugging on Emily's shirt, already crying. Ryan started sniffling too.

The softness in Emily's eyes faded. It turned to ice.

"He's just staying here. Why can't you let it go? Don't forget. I was the one who moved your mother's grave."

My eyes went wide. I heard exactly what she was threatening.

"You're using that against me?"

My voice shook. I couldn't help asking.

Ryan sensed the tension. He grabbed Emily's sleeve, all false concern.

"Emily, don't fight with him because of me. This is your home. He's right not to want me here."

"Home?" Emily laughed. It was cold.

"He doesn't have a home."

My skull rang like a bell.

I had followed her all the way to Seacrest, a thousand miles from anywhere I'd ever known. And now she was telling me I was homeless.

She took Ryan's hand and brushed past me.

"Ryan, I ordered you some suits. All new season. Want to see them?"

She kept going. "The manager position opened up. Take it if you want it."

Jamie ran after them. A perfect little family.

And then there was me. The extra. The outsider.

My nails dug into my palms.

Right then, I finally understood. The girl I loved—she was gone.

My fingers hovered over Stanton Industries' confidential files.

Then I clicked Send.