Chapter 4.

"Okay, let's take this slowly," Stephanie finally broke the silence. "She's your what?!" she burst out, disbelief etched across her face.

"Really, nothing is impossible," Sara said, still reeling from the shock Dylan had just delivered to them.

No one ever expected him to get married before Daryl. Daryl was the quintessential nice guy—warm, light-hearted, and gentle, always surrounded by the presence of women who gravitated towards his charm. But Dylan... he was the exact opposite. Cold, arrogant, ruthless—no woman dared to go near him, even though they secretly admired his brooding demeanor.

"I'm Emily Green," Emily  introduced herself, her heart racing from the intensity of the gazes fixed upon her.

"Charles Green's daughter?" Dylan's father, Robert, finally spoke, his voice low and measured.

"Yes, sir," Emily replied, maintaining her composure despite the weight of the moment.

"Nice job, son." Robert nodded at Dylan, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes as he assessed his son's choice. He recognized the potential for business expansion that Emily’s family name signified, and it only solidified his approval.

"Welcome to the Blackwood family," Sara smiled warmly at Emily, her kindness wrapping around her like a comforting blanket.

A wave of relief washed over Emily, finally feeling accepted into a family that had been a source of anxiety since she had fallen for Daryl. As she stood there, the tensions from earlier began to dissipate.

"Really, sis, how did you manage to snag this rascal?" Stephanie asked Emily, her curiosity evident as her wide eyes took in the scene.

"There's no woman who wouldn't want a man like him," Emily replied, smiling as she glanced briefly at Dylan, trying to put on a brave front despite the swirl of emotions within her.

"Come with me," Dylan said, and without hesitation, she nodded.

He led her upstairs to a  bedroom, where her suitcases were already packed. "Get settled. I'll be back," he said before leaving her alone, and Emily felt a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

As Dylan stepped into the living room, he exchanged a knowing look with his sister before proceeding to confront their father. "Dad, can I have a word with you?" He strode toward the couch opposite his parents, a confident air surrounding him.

"The inheritance, right?" Robert raised a brow, immediately understanding his son’s underlying agenda.

"That'd be when your brother returns," Robert said firmly.

“And why do we need his presence? If I remember correctly, you’re the head of the family, not Daryl," Dylan countered, his tone dripping with defiance.

With a hard look, Robert declared with finality, “We’ll wait for your brother.”

“And what if he never returns?” Dylan challenged, a sly grin creeping onto his lips.

"Dylan Blackwood!" Sara’s voice cut through the tension like a knife.

Dylan rose from the couch, exuding an air of defiance. “I’m your heir… start making the preparations,” he said coldly as he strode out of the living room, leaving a storm of frustration and worry in his wake.

“That little brat,” Robert muttered, watching Dylan leave. “Why did Daryl slack off and let him marry first?”

“He’s still your son,” Sara reminded him gently, her voice softening.

Daryl had always held the title of the beloved son. His soft and tender nature endearing him to everyone. While Dylan's prickly demeanor had kept him isolated, especially from their father.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of deep purple and soft pink, Emily stood in Dylan's bedroom, her heart racing. The room was dimly lit, casting gentle shadows across the walls, while the faint scent of fresh linen wafted through the air.

She took a deep breath, reminding herself of the love that had blossomed between her and Daryl. This was a night she had pictured in her dreams—a night she would finally be one with Daryl, the man who stole her heart away.

Her mind was clear, determined. Striding to the bathroom, she slipped into the warm bath, infused with fragrant oils and delicate petals. The water enveloped her, soothing her nerves, a sanctuary of serenity. After luxuriating in the bath, she rinsed off and returned to the bedroom, wrapped snugly in a towel.

Next, she pampered herself with scented oils, the silkiness of her skin glowing under the soft light. Opening the wardrobe, she carefully selected a delicate lace lingerie she had chosen months ago, hoping that one day she would wear it for the special person in her heart. It was soft against her skin, flowing gracefully, accentuating her figure while maintaining an air of elegance. She looked at herself in the mirror, feeling the flutter of nerves intensifying as she brushed her blonde hair into soft waves.

Next, she turned her attention to the small desk by the window, where she found a vase that she had brought along. She filled it with some fresh flowers she had gathered earlier from the garden wanting to create a romantic atmosphere for the two of them. She placed it on the bedside table, letting the colors brighten up the space.

Feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiety, she moved to the bed. She drew back the plush comforter, revealing the crisp, white sheets underneath. She tucked the comforter at the foot of the bed, ensuring everything looked inviting. With each careful movement, she envisioned the moment to come, hoping it would bring them closer together than they were before.

With everything in place, she set out of the room to find her husband. Walking down the hallway she bumped into Stephanie. "Hi," Emily greeted, flashing a bright smile.

"Wow! My brother is in trouble tonight!" Stephanie exclaimed, admiring Emily's alluring look with genuine admiration.

A blush crept up Emily's cheeks, caught off guard by Stephanie's playful comment.

"So, what are you doing out here instead of in the bedroom?" Stephanie asked with a teasing lilt in her voice.

"I'm looking for your brother; I can't seem to find him anywhere," Emily replied, her smile fading slightly.

"That guy," Stephanie said, shaking her head with exasperation. "Try his study; he’s probably buried in work again."

"Okay, thank you!" Emily replied, grateful for the guidance as she started to continue down the hallway.

“Wait! Hold on,” Stephanie suddenly halted her in her tracks, a slight pout forming on her lips. “You’re going the wrong way. He’s on the third floor. He lives there.”

“Third floor?” Emily felt a knot of confusion tighten in her stomach.

“Yeah, you didn’t know?” Stephanie chuckled softly, her surprise evident.

“He dropped me off in that room when we arrived, and then he just vanished,” Emily said, pointing at the adjacent door, feeling a wave of frustration wash over her.

Stephanie let out a resigned "oh," the weight of the situation clearly sinking in.

“He better have a good explanation for this,” Emily muttered under her breath, her annoyance bubbling to the surface.

“Yeah, he really should…” Stephanie agreed, a hint of concern in her voice.

With a determined set to her jaw, Emily turned on her heels and headed toward the staircase that led to the third floor. 

“Have a wonderful and romantic wedding night!” Stephanie called after her, hoping they would have a blissful night and not a battle.