MasukEmily's POVThe air in the café felt strange, heavy. Like the oxygen had run out all at once.Arthur didn't move. He remained standing, his gaze still fixed on Sebastian's hand that was still touching my face. You could see the muscle in his jaw twitching, locked, but the rest of his body was a statue.It was a silence more frightening than any scream.Sebastian didn't back down either. He kept his hand on my cheek, acting as if there wasn't an imminent danger just inches away. He looked at Arthur, then at me, and his earlier smile disappeared, replaced by a serious, defiant expression.I could feel the warmth of his fingers on my skin, but my focus was all on Arthur's gaze, which seemed to burn. My heart was beating so hard I felt like the two of them could hear it.Carefully, I held Sebastian's fingers and slowly moved his hand away from my face. He let me, without resisting, but tilted his head as if he found the situation curious.I stood up and faced Arthur. A chill ran down my s
Emily's POVThe studio was still buzzing around me, but I wasn't really there anymore.People rushed back and forth with folders in their hands. Lights shifted under the command of hurried assistants. Models came and went from the sets, changing clothes in seconds like it was the most normal thing in the world. The noise faded into a distant hum, drowned out by the blood pounding in my ears.Marcus just found out I'm carrying his child.I squeezed the phone in my pocket, my fingers still shaking. His voice echoed in my head. The desperation. The anger. The confusion. "Emily? Is Emily expecting my child?"I put the phone away and took a deep breath. I tried to go back to shooting. Raised the camera to my eye. Click. The image came out blurry. My hand wasn't steady. Click again. The focus was all wrong. The photo was just a mess of colors and lights."Emily."The voice came from behind me, close. I turned around.Sebastian stood a few feet away, his green eyes locked on me, his head til
Emily's POVWhy is the only thing I want right now for him to touch me again?His gaze was still on me. Heavy. Devouring. But there was something else there, something I couldn't name , a contained hunger, a tremor in his jaw, an internal battle he was losing by the second.He didn't need to say anything. I felt every unspoken word."Arthur, I…""Do you expect me to believe that you really want me to stay away?" He took a step forward. His shadow covered mine. His voice was low, but carried something that hurt. "About this person sending those photos, I'm not worried. I don't care. And if this continues, I swear I'll destroy anyone who dares to hurt you.""You can't destroy the whole world.""Try me.""Arthur…""You don't need to worry about me." His hand touched my face. Soft. Warm. Different from what he had done to the rest of my body. His thumb slowly traced my cheek. "I can take care of myself. You just need to take care of yourself. And this baby.""Arthur… the baby…"My phone v
Emily's POV"Is the baby mine?"The question came direct. No beating around the bush. No preparation. His voice was so low now that it sounded like a whisper from the bottom of an abyss."Arthur...""Answer." He took another step. Now there was no space between us. My chest almost touched his. His breath hit my face – warm, fast, uncontrolled, full of hunger. "Is the baby mine?""I don't want to talk about this," I said, my voice breaking. "You shouldn't be here. Much less asking me that."The words came out dry. Cutting. A knife.He didn't back away. Didn't blink. Just looked at me. His dark eyes traveled across my face — my eyes, my mouth, my chin, my neck. As if devouring me with his gaze."I left a million-dollar contract in Italy," he said. His voice was hoarse, tired, but had a sharp edge. "I came to New York without knowing if you would receive me. Without knowing if you would even look at my face. I only knew I needed to see you. Needed to smell you. Needed to know if you stil
Emily's POV One week.One week since I fled Italy. One week since I left Arthur and everything behind. Two weeks since the anonymous message first appeared on my phone.New York was gray and cold. Nathalie's apartment was messy and cramped, but it was the only place where I felt safe.I couldn't go back to my old apartment. Marcus paid the rent. Marcus chose the furniture. Marcus had the key.That place was never mine. I only realized that now."You're not going to stay here all day again, are you?"Nathalie stood in the doorway, her bag hanging from her shoulder, her hair tied up in a high bun. She looked at me with that expression of someone who wanted to say more but was holding back. Her fingers tapped against her bag strap. A nervous tic."I need to find a job," I answered, my eyes fixed on the floor."You're a photographer, Emily." She leaned forward, trying to catch my gaze. "Start shooting. Reach out to agencies.""And how do I pay the bills while I do that?""I'll lend you m
Arthur's POV "What are you doing in that wretched woman's room?" Vivienne's voice cut through the air like a blade. She stood in the doorway, her blue eyes icy, her face pale with anger. The simple black dress, no jewels, but her presence filled the doorframe as if she owned everything there. And, in a way, she did. But I didn't get up. Didn't look away. I just sat on Emily's bed, my hand still on the still-warm sheet, and let her see that I wasn't leaving until I was ready. This was my territory now, even if she thought otherwise. "I'm asking," she repeated, her voice louder now, impatient. "What are you doing here?" "Since when do I need to answer to you about where I step?" My voice came out low, but carried a coldness that made Vivienne hesitate for a second. "This house is mine. I go where I want, when I want." Vivienne walked into the room anyway. Her footsteps echoed on the wooden floor, each click a challenge. "Did you see the television?" she asked. Her voice trembled
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 g
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
Emily's POV"IF I LOOK AT YOU AGAIN, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU."Claire's scream echoed off the stone walls. Blood streamed from her nose, ran down her chin, dripped onto her dress stained red.She turned. Her high heels clicked on the terrace floor. Her dress flew behind her.Before disappearing into
Emily's POVHe waited.One second. Two. Three.Marcus's chest rose and fell as if he'd run a marathon. His blue eyes were glazed, red, desperate, fixed on mine.Waiting for an answer that wouldn't come."Emily," he whispered. His voice broke in the middle of my name. "Please. Just tell me. Just tel







