LOGINEmily's POV The mansion was silent when I returned.Not the calm silence of empty houses. It was a heavy, dense silence, as if the stone walls were holding their breath, waiting for the next blow.Nathalie was sitting on the bed. Her face swollen from crying. Her eyes red. Suitcases open on the floor."You took long enough," she said. Her voice came out hoarse."I know."She stood up. Hugged me.The hug was tight. Desperate. The kind of hug you give when you don't know if you'll see the person again."Thank you," I whispered against her shoulder. "For everything. For supporting me. For not judging me. For being here.""Don't thank me, you idiot," she answered, her voice breaking. "You're my best friend. I'd go to the end of the world with you.""That's where we're going," I said, trying to laugh. "Almost."Nathalie pulled back. Looked at my face. Her eyes traced my features as if she were memorizing every detail."Emily," she said, her voice more serious now. "What's really going on?
Arthur's POVThe silence between us was a rope about to snap.Marcus stood on the other side of the desk, his fists clenched, his chest rising and falling as if he'd run a marathon. His face was red, but it wasn't just anger. It was something uglier. Deeper.He didn't call me father.Arthur Sterling.As if I were a stranger. As if the thirty years I'd spent building an empire for him meant nothing."You're losing your grip," Marcus said. His voice was trembling, but his eyes were hard. "The scene you made at the fashion show... contradicting my mother in front of everyone. Do you know what the shareholders are saying?"I didn't move. Didn't answer right away. Just stared at him."The shareholders weren't there," I said, my voice low, controlled. "You were. And still, you did nothing.""What was I supposed to do?" He stepped forward. The chair scraped back. "That woman assaulted Claire!""Did you see it?" I stood slowly. The glass desk separated us. "Did you see her assault anyone?"Ma
Arthur's POVThe message.I had seen her face when her phone vibrated. The fear. The panic. Something had scared her, and she tried to hide it."Emily," I called. My voice came out lower than I wanted. "What happened?"She didn't answer right away. Her fingers played with her bag strap, rolling and unrolling the leather."Nothing," she said. "It's nothing.""You went pale. Your hand was shaking. It's not nothing."She sighed. Her shoulders fell."Nathalie sent a message," she said. Her eyes still fixed on the windshield. "She's worried. Everyone at the mansion is freaking out. Claire made up that story, and now... now everyone thinks I'm a violent lunatic."She lied.I knew she was lying. Not by what she said, but by how she said it. Her eyes didn't meet mine. Her fingers squeezed her bag too hard.But I didn't push.It wasn't the time. She would trust me when she was ready. Or she wouldn't. But pushing wouldn't help."Emily," I said. I turned my body on the seat to face her. "We can'
Emily's POVHis hand closed around mine. Firm. Warm. Certain."Come with me," he said.It wasn't a question. It wasn't an order. Something in between. Something that made my legs move before my brain could process it.We ran.Through the empty hallway. Past the boarding gates. Past the confused looks from airport staff who didn't know whether to stop us or pretend they hadn't seen anything.Arthur didn't let go of my hand.Not once.The parking garage was cold. Concrete. The echo of our footsteps bouncing off the walls. He pulled a key from his pocket. The car alarm beeped. Headlights flashed.A black Mercedes. Discreet. Anonymous. Perfect.He opened the passenger door. Pushed me inside. Not violently. Hurriedly. Desperately.Seconds later, he was beside me. The door closed. Silence fell between us like a veil.Both of us breathless. Both of us staring at the windshield. No one spoke.Then he turned.His dark eyes found mine. There was no stone there. No control. Just hunger. Just the
Emily's POV"Arthur," Vivienne said. Her voice trembled for the first time. "How dare you embarrass me in front of everyone here? This whore ruined our main model's face and you're defending her?"Arthur didn't move. His dark eyes met Vivienne's blue ones."I don't believe Parker did this to that girl," he said.He pointed at Claire. His long, steady finger.Claire stepped back. Her swollen face twisted."But... I... I..." Her voice failed. Her green eyes widened. She looked at me. At Arthur. At Vivienne. At Marcus.That's when I saw it.Her look. The way her green eyes pierced through me. It wasn't the look of a victim. It was the look of someone being exposed.What if it was her? The thought came like lightning. What if she was the one who took the photos?The flash in the garden. The envelope under the door with the message.Did she know? Had she always known?"The fashion show will continue," Arthur announced. His voice echoed through the hall. "This setback will be resolved. But
Emily's POVThe giant screen behind the stage was still showing Claire's face when she appeared.Not on the screen. In person.She emerged from behind the black curtain, limping. One dragging step. Another. Her right heel hung crooked, broken. Her red dress was wrinkled, stained with dried blood on the lap. Her red hair fell in damp strands over her swollen face.Her nose bandaged. Both eyes blackened. Her lip split.She looked like she had walked out of a car crash.The entire audience held its breath. Two hundred mouths opened at once. Two hundred pairs of eyes went from her face to me, and from me to her face.Claire kept walking. Limping. Groaning with every step."Listen to me, everyone!" she shouted. Her voice broke in the middle. "This woman was jealous. Because of my friendship with my Marcus. Because of the fashion show. This savage found me on the Sterling terrace and beat me. Beat me as if I were..."She didn't finish. Covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders trembled







