The room was quiet when Emily slowly opened her eyes again. Her head throbbed. Her body ached.
The bright light above her made her squint. For a moment, she didn’t remember where she was — until everything came flooding back. Charles. Julie. The lies. The baby. Everyone else knows except her which means that Even her own family know. She sat up slowly, pain shooting through her back, but she didn’t cry this time. Her eyes were dry. Her heart felt cold. They betrayed her They used her. They drugged her. They took her body, her trust, and now... her child. A baby she carried for nine months. A baby she sang to in the dark. A baby she dreamed of holding. And now they were saying that baby wasn’t hers? Emily stayed in the hospital for hours, lying in that cold, quiet room. She stared at the wall. She tried to cry, but no tears came. Her chest felt tight, her throat dry, but nothing came out. Her heart was cold now. Too much pain, too much betrayal — it had numbed her. Everyone had lied to her. Charles. Julie. Even her own family. Julie’s words kept echoing in her mind: “Everyone knows. You’re the only one who didn’t.” That hurt the most. Her stepmother. Her stepsister. Maybe even her father… Did they all know? She didn’t want to believe her dad knew. He had always been kind. But doubt had already started to creep in, and it hurt more than anything else. Finally, without saying a word to anyone, she got dressed, walked out of the hospital, and got into a cab. The ride home was silent. She looked out the window, watching people walking on the street — laughing, talking, living normal lives. She felt like a ghost sitting there. When the cab stopped in front of her house — the house she thought was her safe place — her heart sank. It didn’t feel like home anymore. From inside the house, she heard music. Laughter. The sound of clinking glasses. Celebration. Her stepsister’s voice was loud, full of joy. Then came her stepmother’s voice, talking excitedly. Emily stood outside, holding her bag tight. Her eyes stared at the front door as the sounds of happiness filled her ears. They were celebrating. Maybe her pain was their victory. As the laughter continued inside the house, the front door slowly opened. Emily stood there, silent. Her eyes were calm, but her heart was breaking inside. The room went quiet when they noticed her. She stepped forward slightly and asked in a soft but cold voice, “What’s the celebration for?” Everyone turned to look at her. Evelyn, her stepsister, stood up quickly and took a step toward her. “Sis…” she said with a fake smile. But Emily raised her hand, stopping her. She walked inside slowly, quietly — like a storm waiting to explode. Her eyes scanned the faces in the room. The same people she had loved, helped, and trusted for years. “Do you all know?” Emily asked, her voice calm, too calm. They looked confused, or pretended to. “Do you all know?” she asked again, a little louder this time. “Know what, sweetie?” her stepmother, Mrs. Carter, asked. “What are you saying, sis?” Evelyn added, her voice pretending to sound sweet. Emily’s eyes burned with hurt. She took a deep breath, then spoke clearly, her voice no longer soft. “I won’t repeat myself again. Do you all know that Julie and Charles are lovers — and that the child I gave birth to isn’t even mine?” The room went dead silent. Nobody spoke. No one denied it. That silence told her everything she needed to know. Then her father finally said, “Calm down, Emily,” his voice flat, without any care. Emily stared at him. “So you all knew…” she whispered, the pain cracking her voice. Suddenly, she screamed, “YOU ALL KNEW!” She grabbed the flower vase next to her and threw it hard on the floor — it shattered into pieces. Everyone flinched. Emily started throwing things — a lamp, a glass, anything she could grab — while shouting: “You all betrayed me!” “Why?!” “I thought you were my family!” “What did I ever do to deserve this?” “I worked myself to the bone for all of you!” “I gave you everything! I obeyed every word!” “And this is what I get?” She turned to her father, breathing heavily, her eyes red and wide. “Answer me!” He finally spoke, not with guilt, but with bitterness. “Blame your dead mother,” he said coldly. “She left all the company shares in your name. I was her husband, but she ignored me — gave everything to you.” Emily froze. Tears filled her eyes. “And that’s a good reason to destroy your own daughter?” she asked, her voice shaking. Her father stepped closer, eyes hard. “You’re just like her. Stubborn. You refused to hand over the shares to me. So yes, we needed Charles to get close to you.” Emily stared at them — her stepmother looking away, Evelyn with her fake face, and her father, full of hate. None of them denied it. None of them cared. She laughed. A cold, bitter laugh that didn’t sound like her at all. “Alright,” she said, wiping her tears away. “Now that you’ve taken everything from me… I have nothing left.” She looked each of them in the eye. “From today, we’re no longer family.” “I have nothing to do with any of you again.”“Vivienne.”Her name rolled off his tongue for the third time. Daniel’s voice was low but edged with impatience, and his narrowed eyes studied her.Vivienne finally blinked, pulling herself out of the shock that had frozen her at the sight of him. Her heart had skipped a beat, not from longing but from an old wound reopening.“Why are you here?” she asked. Her tone was calm, almost cold, though inside she was unsettled.Daniel shifted his weight, one hand stuffed into his pocket. “I thought I saw someone who looked like you passing by. I came to check if it was really you.” His words were casual, but his arrogance bled through. He had always spoken as if the world belonged to him.“Okay, that’s me. You’ve seen me now—you can go.” Vivienne’s voice was firm. She had no intention of entertaining him. Not anymore. Not after everything.She didn’t hate him; hate required energy she no longer wanted to waste. But she didn’t want him in her space either. They had once been friends, yes. Chil
Chapter 155“Mom, Dad, I’m home,” Vivienne called a little louder than usual as she pushed open the door and stepped into the villa.The air inside was cool and filled with the faint smell of polished wood. The living room alone showed the wealth of the owners—soft cream couches, a glass center table, a chandelier hanging above, and expensive paintings decorating the walls. Anyone walking in would immediately know that the family who lived here was not poor. Yet, to a stranger looking from the outside, Vivienne herself could have been mistaken for a maid because of the simple clothes she wore.“My daughter is home!” a man’s joyful voice rang from one corner.Mr. Lukeman, in his fifties, walked out with a wide smile on his face. His eyes lit up with warmth as he hurried toward her.“Dad!” Vivienne dropped her bag onto the desk by the door and rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him. “How are you doing?”“I’m very well,” he said with pride, holding her tightly. “And even if I wasn’
Denovon carefully slipped out of the bed, making sure not to disturb Emily, who was sleeping soundly beside him. Her soft breathing filled the quiet room, and the gentle rise and fall of her chest was enough to make him pause for a moment, staring at her with tenderness in his eyes.It was already late in the evening, yet they had been asleep for hours after another round of love making. Earlier that morning, they had returned to their room right after breakfast. Emily had been unsettled, her face pale, her hands shaking, when he told her about the threat messages. She had nearly broken down, her fear obvious, but Denovon had held her close, whispering words of comfort until she finally calmed down. Somehow, in their closeness, in their need for one another, comfort had turned into passion, and passion into exhaustion. They had given in to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.Now Denovon gently pulled the duvet higher to cover her fragile frame. His eyes softened as he leaned closer a
The water around Emily was warm, wrapping her body like a comforting blanket. The faint movement of the bath made her feel as if she were floating on a calm ocean. Slowly, her muscles began to relax, the soreness in her body fading.She let out a soft sigh. For the first time since last night, she was beginning to feel at ease. But still, her eyelids grew heavy. Sleep tugged at her, tempting her to drift away. She hadn’t rested properly. How could she? The man behind her had not let her.Emily leaned back against the sturdy chest that supported her. She shifted slightly, snuggling against him until she found a comfortable position. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her ear made her feel safe.“Are you still sore,” Denovon asked, his deep voice brushing against her ear, “or are you feeling sleepy again?” His tone carried a trace of happiness that couldn’t be hidden.Emily’s eyes snapped open, and she scowled. She twisted her head sharply to glare at him. “Isn’t it because of y
Leo sat in his car, staring at the glowing screen of his phone. He had typed out, “Are you free tonight?” but his thumb hovered above the send button like it weighed a hundred pounds. His chest felt tight, his heartbeat uneven. Why was he suddenly nervous?He had spoken to plenty of women before. Women had approached him, smiled at him, tried to hold his attention. It had never made him pause like this. So why, with Vivienne, did it feel different? Why did his hands sweat at the thought of sending a simple text?With a sharp sigh, he deleted the words. His jaw tightened as he typed again. “Vivienne, this is Leo. Do you have time for coffee?” He stared at the short sentence for what felt like forever, then finally pressed send.The message whooshed away. Immediately, regret stabbed at him. What if she ignored it? What if she thought he was bothering her? What if she had already decided to forget about him after the wedding? His hand tightened on the phone as doubt coiled in his stomach
Leo sat quietly in the living room of his family house, his body leaning slightly forward as he stared at the glowing screen of his phone. His fingers rested loosely around it, but his mind was far away. His eyes were narrowed, as if he were caught in some deep thought he couldn’t untangle. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, and he dragged his hand back through his hair, frustration flickering across his face.“Are you expecting a call?”The sudden voice pulled him back to reality. He blinked and lifted his head, realizing that he wasn’t alone. His father, Mr. Blake, was sitting across from him, watching him with a calm but probing look.“No, Dad,” Leo answered quickly, clearing his throat as if to shake off his distraction. Embarrassed, he slid the phone to his side on the sofa. He had almost forgotten that his father was there with him.Mr. Blake nodded slowly, his eyes still fixed on his son.“Mr. Turner called me,” he said after a pause, his voice steady but carrying weight. “He told