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.”The silence in the car was thick, but not uncomfortable. The city lights passed in flashes as the car moved smoothly through the night. Emily leaned against the seat, her fingers resting gently over the ring now on her finger. A symbol that still didn’t feel real.Denovon glanced at her briefly before turning back to the road.“It’s late,” he finally said, voice low but firm. “We’ll go to my villa tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll send someone to your apartment to get your things.”Emily sat up straighter. “But… I don’t have clothes to wear. And I need to prepare for work tomorrow.”“You’re not working tomorrow,” Denovon replied without missing a beat. “We’re going to my family house in the morning.”Her heart stopped for a moment. She turned slowly to face him.“Your… your family house?”Denovon nodded. “Yes. It’s time you meet them.”Emily swallowed hard, eyes drifting to the window. She didn’t say anything, but a thousand thoughts rushed through her mind.Will they accept me? What if they as
Emily stood in front of the glass case, her eyes moving slowly over the rows of wedding rings. Each one sparkled under the lights, some delicate, some bold, all of them beautiful. But her gaze paused on a single ring—less shiny than the others, simple but elegant. A thin platinum band with a tiny diamond resting like a star on top. It didn’t scream for attention. It just existed—quiet and refined. "This one," she said softly, almost to herself.Denovon, who had been standing behind her, smiled faintly. It was exactly the one he had picked out in his head when they walked in, but he hadn't said a word. He wanted her to choose. And just as he thought, she wasn’t the flashy type. She was graceful. Classy."Perfect," he said.The attendant quickly packaged the ring, placing it carefully into a velvet box before handing it to Denovon. He thanked her with a slight nod and turned to Emily."Let’s go."They walked out of Jewelry Empire and returned to the car. Emily sat on the passenger side
Emily stepped out of the company building, the sun already low in the sky. The wind tugged gently at her coat, and her heels tapped lightly on the pavement. She was exhausted after spending hours reviewing documents, but her posture remained graceful.She made her way down the sidewalk, heading toward the bus stop.No car. No driver. Just herself and the quiet hum of the street.It was strange — just this morning, she had signed papers that made her someone’s wife. Now, she was walking to the bus like nothing had changed.A loud car honk cut through the street, making her stop abruptly.She turned.A sleek black car had pulled up beside her. The window rolled down.Denovon.He leaned slightly to the side, one hand on the steering wheel, his dark eyes calm but unreadable. A small, knowing smile played at the edge of his lips.“It seems Miss Carter has forgotten that she’s now Mrs. Rowland,” he said smoothly.Emily froze, blinking.He was right. She had forgotten. For a moment, the rea
The Rowland Enterprises penthouse office was sleek, cold, and intimidating—much like the man who owned it.Emily stepped out of the elevator, every inch of her calm exterior carefully arranged. Her soft beige blouse flowed like silk over tailored black pants, her hair pulled into a low knot. There were still traces of the girl who cried last night, but something else sat in her eyes now—steel.Denovon was seated behind his massive glass desk, typing something on his tablet. He looked up when she entered, and for a moment, his cold blue eyes assessed her.Then he stood."You came," he said.She nodded, stepping forward until they were just a few feet apart."I have my answer," she said softly.His brow lifted, just slightly. “I’m listening.”Emily took a breath. “I’ll marry you, Mr. Rowland.”There was a pause, heavy and silent. Then, Denovon gave a slow nod, a small smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “I see.”“But,” she continued, her voice steady, “it won’t be just a marriage
Emily sat quietly in the cab, staring out the window but not seeing anything.Denovon's words kept replaying in her head:“I, Denovon Rowland, need a wife.”“So if you’re willing, let’s get married.”“You won’t be at a disadvantage.”It felt like a dream. No—a strange scene from a drama. But it was real. He said it. He actually asked her to marry him.Her heart beat fast. Confused. Shocked. A little scared.“Sleep over it... I’ll be waiting for your reply.”Her fingers trembled slightly as she held her bag tighter.The cab stopped. “We’re here, ma’am,” the driver said.She paid and stepped out slowly. Her thoughts were still wrapped around Denovon’s face when she saw them—Charles. Julie.Standing in front of her apartment building.Her steps froze.Her chest tightened instantly.Months. It had been months since she last saw Charles. Since that day at the hospital… the day she found out it had all been a lie.Her stomach turned, but she stood still. Her face calm. She refused to cry.
Denovon sat back in his chair, fingers loosely tapping on the armrest as he watched Emily walk out of his office. There was something about her—something quiet but strong—that lingered even after she left the room.Just then, his phone rang.He checked the screen.Grandfather.He sighed and picked it up.Denovon:“Grandpa.”Grandfather (chuckling):“Ah! How does it feel sitting in the big chair now, Chairman Rowland?”Denovon:“It feels... normal. Work is work.”Grandfather:“Don’t play tough with me, boy. I know it excites you. I built that company with my sweat. You better take care of it.”Denovon (smirking):“I will. I plan to.”There was a short pause before the real agenda began.Grandfather:“And now that work is going smoothly, when are you getting married?”Denovon (sighs):“Grandpa...”Grandfather (cutting him off):“No excuses. You’re thirty, Denovon. You’ve handled the business in America, you’re running Rowland now. What next? You want me to carry great-grandchildren in a