LOGINMorning arrived quietly.
A pale ribbon of sunlight slipped through the gap in the curtains, stretching across the wooden floor before slowly climbing toward the bed. The rain had stopped. The mansion was silent. Only the soft ticking of the clock broke the stillness. Rowan stirred. His eyes opened slowly. For a few seconds, he simply lay there, letEmma stepped out into the hallway before answering the call. “Mr. Whitmore.” “Good afternoon, Emma.” His familiar, warm voice made her smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting your work.” “Not at all.” “How are you?” “Very well, thank you.” “And how is Mr. Blackwood?” Emma glanced through the glass wall that overlooked the executive corridor. Rowan’s office stood directly across from hers. Through the tinted windows, she could just make out his silhouette moving behind the desk. “He’s doing much better.” “The doctor cleared him a few days ago.” “We’re both back at work.” “That’s wonderful to hear.” “I was quite concerned when I heard he’d fallen ill.” “So was I.” A brief silence followed.
Rowan Blackwood rarely took time away from work. Which explained why, the moment he stepped into the lobby of Blackwood Industries, the atmosphere subtly shifted. Conversations paused. Heads turned. Employees straightened instinctively as he walked past. “Good morning, Mr. Blackwood.” “Welcome back, sir.” “It’s good to see you again.” Rowan acknowledged each greeting with a brief nod, his expression as composed as ever. Walking beside him, Emma smiled. “I think they’re happier to see you than you realize.” “They’re happier to see the backlog of decisions finally being made,” Rowan replied evenly. Emma laughed. “You really know how to ruin a nice moment.” “I prefer realism.” “I’ve missed your optimism.” A faint smil
Blackwood Mansion stood in complete silence. The wrought-iron gates opened without a sound, allowing Rowan’s car to glide through. Stephanie stared out the window. The mansion had always looked impressive in photographs. In person… It was something else entirely. Stone walls rose beneath the evening sky. Warm lights glowed through towering windows. Perfectly trimmed gardens stretched across the grounds, interrupted only by ancient oak trees swaying gently in the breeze. It looked less like a home… And more like a private estate hidden away from the rest of the world. The car rolled to a stop beneath the grand entrance. Before anyone could reach for the doors, two members of the household staff stepped forward. One opened Rowan’s door. Another greeted Emma with a
The living room fell into complete silence. No one spoke. Emma couldn’t take her eyes off the tiny black object resting among the broken pieces of the vase. It looked… Ordinary. Too ordinary. Something so small shouldn’t have been capable of making her home suddenly feel unfamiliar. Stephanie stood beside her, arms wrapped tightly around herself. “I almost threw it away,” she admitted quietly. “I thought it was just another piece of the vase.” Emma didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her mind refused to process what she was looking at. A listening device. Someone had planted it. In her house. Without realizing it… Everything else faded into the background. Laura’s interview. The accusations. The headlines. For the first time since leaving Rowan’s mansion… Emma wasn’t thinking about any of it. There was room in her mind for only one question. Who had been inside her home? Rowan broke the silence. “I’m calling security.” His voice was steady. Unhurried. He took out
The study fell silent once more. Emma quietly closed the door behind her. Rowan’s final words lingered in her mind. She has no idea… what she just started. He was probably talking about lawyers. The media. Another public statement. Whatever came next… Rowan would handle it. He always did. Emma let out a quiet breath and walked toward the living room. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, washing the room in a warm glow. Everything felt… ordinary. Her phone vibrated. She glanced at the screen. Stephanie. A smile tugged at her lips. She answered immediately. “Hey, Steph.” There was no reply. Only breathing. Uneven.
The study fell quiet once more. Emma disappeared toward the kitchen. Rowan remained where he was, his hand still resting on the edge of the desk. His phone vibrated. Then again. And again. He frowned. The screen lit up. 184 unread messages. 37 missed calls. His brows drew together. He’d only been away for two days. Not long enough for this. His thumb moved down the screen. Board members. Executives. Investors. Then— Mr. Warner 23 Missed Calls Before Rowan could return the call, the phone rang again. He answered. “Warner.” “Sir..” “What happened?” A brief pause. “I think you should watch it yourself.”
The silence outside the bedroom door did not feel like absence. It felt like pressure. Emma Laurent stood in the center of the room, staring at the locked door as if she could see through it…see him. Dominic Sterling did not shout. He did not pound on the wood like a jealous husband. He did not
The Laurent estate had always felt larger at night. Not grander. Just heavier. The chandeliers cast gold across polished marble floors, across portraits of men who had built empires and lost them, across women who had smiled through wars no one ever wrote about. Emma stood at the entrance be
Morning in the Sterling mansion did not arrive with sunlight. It arrived with silence. Emma woke to stillness so complete it felt curated. The curtains were half drawn, the light filtered into something pale and artificial. The air smelled faintly of Dominic Sterling’s cologne….dark, expensive,
The hospital smelled like antiseptic and fear. Emma hated it. She went alone. She doesn’t have the energy to deal with him. The white walls. The hushed footsteps. The way nurses spoke softly, as if grief might be contagious. She sat on the edge of the examination bed, hands folded in her







