I hadn’t seen Emilie in over a year.
Not since the night she disappeared without warning, leaving nothing but an aching silence in her place. I told myself I’d moved on. Buried the memories. Convinced myself that she didn’t matter.
I was wrong.
I was fucking wrong.
I never moved on. Emilie is a part of me that I can't let go. It's like she took a piece of me, cause no matter what I did or do, she's always on my mind.
But still I lied to myself that I didn't need her. That she and I won't be together.
And then, once more, I was wrong.
Because today, I saw her again.
She was the first person I saw as I walked into the house.
The glass in her hand trembled slightly. Her eyes widened—not in happiness or even anger. Just shock. Like she’d seen a ghost. Or maybe she had hoped never to see me again.
“What the hell…” I whispered, the words barely audible.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. No excuses. No fake smiles. No welcome home. Nothing.
The weight of disbelief settled on my chest like a brick. “What are you doing here?”
"I see you guys have met." Said Irina, as she walked downstairs.
"Andrew" she called out calmly.
"Emilie here, is your father's property." Irina said
"How? What do you mean by property?" To Emilie. " I thought you… were gone. I thought that something happened to you…. What did Irina mean by property?"
"Your father's wife." Irina added.
I turned to Emilie, fury replacing the confusion. “You married him? You. Married. Milo?”
She met my gaze for the first time. “It wasn’t about love, Andrew. It was…..”
“Don’t.” My voice turned to ice. “Don’t even try to explain it.” I laughed hysterically.
My first love, the only girl I've ever loved, my ex girlfriend and the one girl I can't seem to get off my mind is now married to my father?
This…. This I never imagined.
“I had no choice.”
“Bullshit! Bullshit Emi. You fucking had a choice. What stopped you from running to me? What stopped you from asking me for help. You …. You chose to run to my father.”
I took a step closer and she stepped back, her hand reaching for the wall like she needed something to lean on.
“You think I don’t know who he is? What he does?” I hissed. “You think marrying him was your only option?”
“It was the only way to save my father.”
I stared at her.
She continued, quieter now. “He was going to lose everything, Andrew. They would’ve ruined him. Killed him, maybe. I made a deal with Milo Petrov. He has the power you don't have. He was my only option”
I scoffed. “Of all people, him?”
“I didn’t have time to think. I just... I did what I had to do.”
“And slept in his bed.”
Her eyes flared. “I never said that.”
“Oh, so you sleep in separate rooms? Does that make it better?”
Her silence was answer enough.
She flinched. “You think I wanted this?”
“I think you let it happen.”
Her jaw clenched. “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”
“Then explain it to me!” I snapped. “Explain why the woman I trusted, who said she loved me, vanished only to show up as my father’s fucking possession.”
The silence between us felt like a blade.
Her eyes filled, but she didn’t let the tears fall.
“I didn’t come here to hurt you,” she said, voice barely audible. “But I won’t apologize for surviving.”
“Is that what you call this?” I spat. “Survival?”
She took a shaky breath, then stepped toward me.
“I’m not the same girl you knew,” she said. “And you’re not the boy who kissed me behind the cathedral and promised me a future. We don’t belong to each other anymore.”
I shook my head, heart pounding. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true.”
“I don’t believe you,” I whispered.
She looked away.
Irina stepped between us, her voice stern for once. “That’s enough. This isn’t helping anyone.”
I turned away, clenching my fists. My heart thundered in my chest, part rage, part heartbreak.
“I left to build something,” I muttered. “To make a name outside of this family. And I come back to this?”
“You didn’t write,” Emilie said, barely audible. “Not once. You vanished too.”
I turned back to her. “There was no way to reach you. Is that what gave you the right to marry him?”
“You weren’t coming back.”
“You didn’t wait long to assume that.”
Her throat bobbed. “It was six months.”
“I would’ve come back. For you.”
The words left me before I could stop them. Emilie flinched. Irina’s eyes widened.
"I'm out of here." Irina said as she went back upstairs.
Silence again.
I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly too exhausted to stay in the same room. “Where is he?”
“Out,” Emi said softly. “He’ll be back late.”
I nodded slowly.
“Good,” I muttered. “Let him find me here. You still love me. Right?"
"I…. I" She couldn't find the right word to utter
"Don’t stand there and tell me you feel nothing.”
Her eyes snapped to mine, full of unspoken pain. “What I feel doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Yes, it does,” I said, stepping closer. “Because I still see you, Emilie. Even under the lies and dresses. I see the girl who used to laugh at my stupid jokes and sneak me pastries from the kitchen.”
“I’m not her anymore,” she whispered.
“Then tell me you don’t love me,” I challenged. “Look me in the eye and say it.”
Her lips parted, but no words came.
Instead, she turned away.
That was answer enough.
As I walked away from that balcony, something inside me cracked open.
It wasn’t just jealousy. It was betrayal. It was fury.
And beneath it all, it was heartbreak.
Because deep down, I knew I’d just lost the only person I ever truly loved.
And
worse?
She hadn’t been stolen.
She had chosen to stay.
And without another word, I turned and walked toward my old room, every step heavier than the last.
Andrew’s POVI sat in a dark corner of a rundown bar, the kind of place where nobody asks your name. The air smelled like old beer and cigarette smoke. My glass of whiskey sat half-empty on the sticky table, but it wasn’t helping. Emilie’s words from last night kept playing in my head, over and over, like a song I couldn’t stop: “It’s too late, Andrew. I’m his wife now.” Every time I heard them, my chest tightened, like someone was squeezing my heart. I’d told her I still loved her, spilled my guts on that balcony, and she’d pushed me away. Her eyes had been full of guilt, but there was something else too, something for him. My father, milo Petrov. The man who’d taken her from me.Last night’s party was a blur of fancy suits and fake smiles, everyone watching Emilie like she was a prize to be won. She’d worn that green dress, looking beautiful but scared, like she was trying to hide how much she didn’t belong. I’d seen the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t noticing, and
Emilie’s POVThe penthouse felt like a cage tonight, its opulent walls closing in as I stood by the window, the city’s restless pulse mocking my own. Milo’s words from earlier, “There is no way out. You belong to me now”, echoed in my mind, each syllable a chain tightening around my heart. His touch, the way his fingers had lingered on my jaw, had ignited something dangerous, a spark I couldn’t extinguish. I hated myself for it. I was supposed to be a prisoner, a pawn traded for my father’s debts, not a woman who felt her pulse quicken at the sound of his voice.The memory of Andrew’s pain on the balcony last night twisted the knife deeper. “I never stopped loving you,” he’d said, his voice raw with desperation. I’d pushed him away, told him it was too late, but the truth was messier. I still cared for him, for the boy who’d once been my safe haven, but I was no longer that girl, and he was no longer that boy. We were both trapped in Milo’s world now, and every choice felt like a
Milo’s POVThe meeting room was a den of wolves, each man at the table cloaked in ambition and deceit. The air hung heavy with cigar smoke, the acrid scent mingling with the faint metallic tang of tension. I sat at the head, my posture relaxed but my eyes sharp, scanning the faces of Russia’s most ruthless bosses. They spoke of territories, shipments, and profits, their voices a low rumble of greed, but my mind was elsewhere, back on that balcony, where Emilie’s trembling voice had declared her loyalty to me, even as her eyes betrayed a flicker of doubt. “I’m your wife. That’s where my loyalty lies.” The words should have anchored me, but they didn’t. They stirred a restlessness I hadn’t felt since the early days of building my empire, when every shadow held a knife.Dimitri’s voice sliced through my thoughts, his tone dripping with mockery. “Petrov, you’re awfully quiet tonight. Is it the new wife keeping you distracted?” The scar across his cheek twitched as he smirked, his eyes
Emilie’s POV:The cool night air brushed against my skin as I stood on the balcony, the city lights sprawling below like a constellation of secrets. My fingers still tingled where Milo had touched my cheek, his words…“Something worth keeping”, echoing in my mind like a dangerous lullaby. I should hate him. He was the devil who’d bought me, the man who’d trapped me in his gilded cage to settle my father’s debts. But that moment, the way his dark eyes softened, the way his voice dropped to a murmur, had stirred something inside me I couldn’t name. Desire? Fear? Or something far more treacherous?I pressed my hands against the cold stone railing, trying to ground myself. The gala’s opulence lingered in my senses, the clink of champagne glasses, the predatory smiles of mafia wives, the weight of every gaze sizing me up as Milo Petrov’s new possession. I’d held my own tonight, deflecting their veiled barbs, but now, alone, I felt the cracks in my facade. How long could I play this role
Emilie’s POV:The morning sun filtered through the penthouse windows, casting long shadows across the marble floor. I stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the fabric of the deep emerald gown Milo had chosen for me. It hugged my frame tightly, the neckline plunging just enough to make me feel exposed, yet the elegance of it was undeniable. Tonight, I wasn’t just Emilie, the girl who’d traded her freedom for her father’s life. Tonight, I was Milo Petrov’s wife, and he intended for the world to know it.“Stop fidgeting,” Irina snapped, her voice sharp as she adjusted the diamond necklace around my throat. The stones glittered coldly, matching her gaze in the reflection. “You’ll ruin the look.”“I’m not fidgeting,” I replied, though my fingers betrayed me, twisting the hem of the dress. “I just don’t see why this is necessary.”Irina’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s a gathering of the families. Milo’s allies, his enemies—everyone who matters in this world. You’re not just arm ca
I hadn’t seen Emilie in over a year.Not since the night she disappeared without warning, leaving nothing but an aching silence in her place. I told myself I’d moved on. Buried the memories. Convinced myself that she didn’t matter.I was wrong.I was fucking wrong.I never moved on. Emilie is a part of me that I can't let go. It's like she took a piece of me, cause no matter what I did or do, she's always on my mind.But still I lied to myself that I didn't need her. That she and I won't be together.And then, once more, I was wrong.Because today, I saw her again.She was the first person I saw as I walked into the house.The glass in her hand trembled slightly. Her eyes widened—not in happiness or even anger. Just shock. Like she’d seen a ghost. Or maybe she had hoped never to see me again.“What the hell…” I whispered, the words barely audible.She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. No excuses. No fake smiles. No welcome home. Nothing.The weight of disbelief settled on my che