Chapter Seven

Emilia

The moment I turned to face the gossipers, my gaze locked onto one of the women in particular.  

Nora.

Recognition hit me instantly.  

It wasn’t just the name—it was the way she carried herself, the sharp cheekbones, the haughty expression, the carefully styled hair that looked like it took an hour to perfect.  

She looked like her.  

Katherine.  

My lips curled slightly. Of course. 

Wasn’t it always the case? People like Katherine surrounded themselves with others who mirrored their own worst traits. If Katherine was an entitled, manipulative snake, then Nora was her eager apprentice. They are cousins 

And now, she was standing here, running her mouth about me.  

How predictable.  

Nora’s gaze met mine, her brown eyes flashing with something between challenge and curiosity. But just as quickly, she masked it, settling into a smug expression, lips curling into a knowing smirk.  

She wasn’t expecting me to confront her.  

I took my time, letting the silence stretch between us, watching her reaction. The longer I stood there, unmoving, the more I noticed the subtle signs of discomfort in her stance—the way her fingers flexed around the papers in her hands, the way she shifted her weight just slightly.  

She was trying to act unaffected, but I saw through it.  

Good.  

"Do you have something to say to me, or do you only speak when you think no one’s listening?"

My voice was smooth, calm—but it carried just enough of an edge to make her flinch.  

Around us, a few employees had gone still. Their whispered conversations ceased as they sensed the shift in atmosphere.  

The redhead who had been whispering with her earlier suddenly found her paperwork very interesting, her gaze flicking between me and Nora like she wished she could disappear.  

But Nora?  

Nora recovered quickly.  

She crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her chin up as if that could somehow keep her from looking small in this situation. "I just think it’s interesting how some people get ahead so quickly. Almost as if they have… external help."

Her lips curled into a knowing smirk.  

There it was. The insinuation.

I could have laughed.  

How unoriginal.  

I tilted my head slightly, pretending to consider her words. "External help? You mean actual talent? Competence? Hard work?"

Her smirk didn’t falter. "You know exactly what I mean."

Oh, I did.  

The accusation was so tired.  

I had heard it before. I had seen it before. Women in power—women who worked their asses off to earn their place—always had their success questioned. If they had connections, people claimed they used them unfairly. If they had a man in their life, people whispered that they slept their way to the top.  

And now, here I was, standing in front of another woman who was so desperate to discredit me that she had resorted to the oldest, most baseless insult in the book.  

I let out a soft chuckle, shaking my head. "Ah. So you mean to say I slept my way here, right?" I arched a brow. "You can say it directly, no need to dance around it."

A flicker of surprise crossed her face—clearly, she hadn’t expected me to call her out so bluntly. But she covered it up quickly with a casual shrug. "If the shoe fits."  

A silence settled between us, stretching for just a beat too long.  

Then, I took a step closer.  

Not enough to touch, but just enough to invade her personal space. Just enough to make her uncomfortable.  

She stiffened.  

"It’s funny," I mused, my voice pleasant—too pleasant. "How people like you love to assume things. You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve done to get here. But let me make something clear, Nora—if I wanted to get ahead using connections, I wouldn’t be standing here talking to you. I’d be sitting in an office much higher than yours, giving orders."

Her expression faltered.  

I saw it.  

That flash of uncertainty.  

The realization that she had underestimated me.  

But she was too proud to back down. Instead, she rolled her eyes and scoffed. "We’ll see how long you last." She muttered it under her breath, as if that would soften the impact.  

Oh, she really thought she had a point, didn’t she?

I smirked, tilting my head slightly. "Oh, you don’t have to wonder." My voice was light, almost playful. "You’ll be seeing me around for a long time. Get used to it."

Then, without another word, I turned and walked away.  

I didn’t bother looking back.  

I didn’t need to.  

I could feel their stares boring into my back.  

I could hear the hushed whispers starting up again, voices filled with speculation, curiosity, maybe even a hint of respect.  

Let them talk. 

They had no idea who I was.  

But soon, they would.

What no one in this company knew—except for Richard and a select few—was that I wasn’t just another employee. I wasn’t some intern, nor was I here on a whim.

I was working alongside Richard.

Behind the scenes, I was his right hand, handling things no one else could.

The deals that needed a delicate touch. The problems that required swift, decisive action. The strategic decisions that would shape the future of the Kane Group.

I was the CEO’s wife.

And when the time was right, everyone would find out exactly what that meant.

But not yet.

For now, I was content letting them underestimate me. Let them whisper. Let them sneer. Let them believe I was nothing more than a pretty face who had gotten lucky.

Because when the truth came out?

Their realization would be all the more satisfying.

—

Later that afternoon, I found myself seated across from Richard in a private dining room at one of the city's most exclusive restaurants.

It was a place where the rich and powerful came not just to eat but to negotiate, scheme, and close multimillion-dollar deals over a glass of aged wine.

The lighting was soft, the furniture sleek, the air thick with quiet conversations and the occasional clink of cutlery against fine china. It was luxurious, but not flashy—much like Richard himself.

As always, he looked effortlessly composed, his suit tailored to perfection, his presence commanding without him even needing to say a word.

He studied me for a moment before setting down his fork. “You seem… irritated.”

I sighed, absently pushing my food around my plate with my fork. “Just people talking.”

His brow lifted slightly, a subtle but unmistakable shift in his expression. “Who?”

I hesitated. Did I really want to bring this up?

It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle it—I could.

But Richard had a way of eliminating problems with terrifying efficiency.

I shook my head. “It’s not important.”

His jaw tensed slightly, his piercing gaze unwavering. “Emilia.” His voice was calm, but firm. “If someone is giving you a hard time—”

“I can handle it,” I cut in smoothly.

Because I could.

I had been through worse.

A few jealous whispers? A couple of smug office gossips who thought they could rattle me?

They were nothing compared to what I had already endured.

Richard leaned back slightly, his eyes studying me in that quiet, unreadable way of his. “That’s not the point.”

I knew what he meant.

It wasn’t about whether I could handle it. It was about whether I should have to.

And for Richard? Allowing disrespect was never an option.

“If someone needs a reminder of their place,” he said smoothly, “I can make that happen.”

His tone was casual, but I knew better.

A reminder of their place.

Richard wasn’t the type to engage in petty power plays, but when it came to people stepping out of line? He had zero tolerance.

I smiled slightly, appreciating the protectiveness in his tone. But that wasn’t what I wanted.

Not yet.

Not until the right moment.

Not until it would make the most impact.

I picked up my glass of water, swirling it slightly before taking a sip. Then, meeting his gaze, I said, “Not yet.”

A single dark brow arched. “No?”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to be revealed too soon.” I set the glass down gently, leaning forward just slightly. “Let them think whatever they want. It’ll be more fun watching their reactions when they finally realize the truth.”

He smirked, the expression slow, knowing. “You enjoy proving people wrong, don’t you?”

I shrugged, mirroring his smirk. “You married me. You should know by now.”

His gaze darkened slightly, something amused yet dangerous flickering in his expression.

“That I did.”

A small shiver ran down my spine.

This.

This was why Richard Kane was highly esteemed.

Because while his power was undeniable, it was the way he wielded it that set him apart.

And the most terrifying part?

He hadn’t even begun yet.

For a moment, we just looked at each other, the weight of the conversation lingering between us.

The whispers. The assumptions. The challenges ahead.

None of it mattered.

Because there was one thing I knew for certain.

I wasn’t alone in this.

Richard was on my side.