Emma’s POVThere was something in the air that morning.Not the usual stillness. Not the calm I’d grown used to since the pregnancy.Something… off.Like static before a storm.I stood by the window, watching the clouds roll slowly across Manhattan’s skyline. Grey and thick like warning smoke.Xander was still asleep, one arm lazily curled around my waist, his breath steady and warm against my back. I should have stayed. I should’ve let myself sink into the peace of that moment.But my heart was pacing. Restless. And I didn’t know why.---I padded into the kitchen barefoot, craving orange juice with a sudden vengeance only pregnancy hormones could explain. The fridge offered none.Of course.I sighed, grabbed my phone, and dialed down to the concierge to send some up.And that’s when I saw it.My name.Plastered across a gossip blog headline that made my blood run cold.> EMMA DAVIS-BLAKE: A PAST BUILT ON LIES? Sources say the beloved wife of billionaire CEO Xander Blake may have a s
Diane’s POV They think I’ve lost. They think I’m crawling in the shadows, licking my wounds. They think betrayal has finally caught up with me. Let them think that. Because when people think you’re broken, they stop watching your hands. And that’s when you strike. I watched from the tinted window of the black car as Emma’s face flashed across a news screen outside a storefront. Glowing. Smiling. Pregnant. Of course, they hadn’t announced it yet — but I could tell. Her face had changed. Softer around the edges. Protective. I knew that look. I had once worn it too. Before the world chewed me up and spat me out. Before I learned that kindness doesn’t save you. Power does. And I will never be powerless again. --- “She believes you betrayed Robert.” The voice beside me was smooth as silk. Male. Deep. Dangerous. I didn’t flinch. “Of course she does. That was the point.” “She doesn’t know what you’re planning, does she?” I turned to him — to him, the man I’d partnered with
Emma’s POV The days after the baby shower had been quiet—eerily so. There was a strange kind of stillness in our home, like the air was holding its breath. And maybe I was too. I tried to ignore it. I spent my mornings sketching, afternoons preparing the nursery, and evenings watching Xander make awkward dad jokes while assembling baby furniture. He was terrible at it, but so damn proud every time he got something right. And still, that feeling lingered. Like something was approaching. Something cold. --- It came with a knock. A single, sharp knock at the gate that echoed like a warning bell through the intercom system. It was late evening. The sky outside had turned a deep plum, and the first stars had begun to blink through the clouds. Xander was upstairs, showering. I was in the living room, running my fingers over fabric swatches when the chime rang. I frowned and stood, crossing to the wall screen. At first, I saw nothing. Then the figure stepped into view. And my
Emma’s POV The Blake Estate looked like something out of a dream. Twinkling lights danced through the trees like fireflies. A string quartet played something soft and elegant under a white canopy adorned with wildflowers and golden drapes. There were crystal flutes of non-alcoholic rosé, gourmet finger foods shaped like tiny animals, and—because it was Danielle—three separate photo booths, each with its own “vibe.” Bohemian Luxe didn’t even begin to cover it. It was magic. “Tell me again this isn’t a wedding,” I muttered as I stepped out of the car. Xander chuckled beside me and took my hand. “Because you didn’t wear white this time.” I smirked, then immediately flinched. “Ugh. She’s kicking again.” “Or protesting all the attention,” he said. We walked through the garden arch together, hand in hand. Guests turned. Smiled. Cameras flashed, but for once I didn’t feel the need to flinch or duck away. This wasn’t like the forced events we used to attend. This felt… warm. Intent
Emma’s POVI was halfway through my lemon tea — because that was the only thing that didn't make me want to hurl in the mornings — when the doorbell rang.Xander beat me to it."Stay put," he called over his shoulder. "I’ve got it."I did stay put. Mostly because getting up too fast these days made my head spin. And also because it was one of those rare quiet mornings when the city felt like it had exhaled.He returned moments later with a curious smile and a cream-colored envelope in his hand.“Fancy envelope for a Saturday,” I muttered.He dropped it into my palm with an amused shrug. “Addressed to both of us.”I peeled it open slowly, half-expecting another gala invite or an unnecessary board brunch.Instead, in sweeping gold cursive were the words:> You are cordially invited to an exclusive celebration in honor of Emma Davis-Blake and Baby Blake.Hosted by: Danielle BlakeDate: Two weeks from now.Location: The Blake Estate – Garden PavilionMy eyes widened.“Did you know about t
Xander’s POV I hadn’t planned to visit my father’s grave that afternoon. But something in me needed quiet. Not silence. Quiet. The kind that wraps around your shoulders without pressing on your chest. The kind that lets your thoughts settle instead of suffocate. Emma had fallen asleep beside me during our drive back from the interview taping, hand resting on her stomach. Her body, so small, now carried two hearts. Two lives. And I knew that when she woke up, she’d pretend she wasn’t tired. She’d push herself. Smile through the storm. Be brave for the world. But I knew her brave came at a cost. So while she slept, I let the driver detour. The cemetery gates were open. The air held that bittersweet crispness that comes with impending fall. I walked the winding path to the plot I knew by heart. Alexander Blake Sr. Beloved husband. Respected entrepreneur. A man of vision. And underneath all that… A father I never fully understood. I stood there for a while, hands in my coat