Emily's POV.
The air in my father’s study was thick with tension, and my voice rose so high that I thought the walls might actually crack. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I yelled, pacing back and forth across the hardwood floor, my heels clicking like gunfire. “You expect me to marry Cole Grayson? That arrogant, self-absorbed…” I stopped mid-rant, my chest heaving, and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You can’t be serious!” My father, ever the picture of calmness, sat in his leather chair, his elbows resting on the armrests, his hands folded neatly in front of him. He regarded me with the same infuriating neutrality he used in board meetings. It was like yelling at a wall. “Yes, Emily,” he said, his voice maddeningly steady. “I mean it. You’re going to marry Cole Grayson.” My jaw dropped. I felt like I’d just been punched in the gut. “You’re actually serious?” I demanded, the disbelief clear in my voice. “You want me to marry him? Today, I meet him for the first time in years, and tonight you decide to play matchmaker?” His calm nod was the last straw. “This isn’t about romance, Emily. It’s business. A partnership between the Hart Enterprise and Grayson Corp’s is what’s best for both families. For the companies.” I let out a bitter laugh, throwing my hands up. “Best for you maybe! Have you lost your mind? I’m not ready to get married! I have a company to run, a life to live. I don’t have time for this.” My father’s gaze didn’t waver. “You’ll have time. And the marriage won’t interfere with your work. On the contrary, it will strengthen your position.” “Strengthen my position?” I spat, pacing again. My heels dug into the floor as I turned sharply to face him. “Dad, I’m already CEO of Hart Enterprise. I’ve earned my position. I don’t need to marry some…some man to validate that!” His silence only fueled my rage. My breaths came fast and shallow, and my hands shook as I ran them through my hair. I felt trapped, like a caged animal. “And why him?” I demanded, my voice cracking with the force of my anger. “Of all people, why Cole Grayson? I despise him! He’s arrogant, insufferable, and so full of himself he doesn’t even have room for basic human decency.” I stopped pacing, glaring at my father. My voice dropped to a lower, more desperate tone. “This is insane. You can’t make me do this.” My father sighed, his calm demeanor finally breaking as he leaned forward in his chair. “Emily, listen to me. This isn’t just about you or Cole. This is about securing the future of our company…your company. The alliance with Grayson Corp will put us on the global map in ways we can’t achieve alone. It’s the logical step forward.” “Logical?” I echoed, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “You mean convenient. Convenient for you and Nicholas Grayson.” “Yes,” he said simply, his expression unflinching. “And for you too, if you let go of your stubbornness and see the bigger picture.” Tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him. My throat tightened, and I clenched my fists at my sides, forcing the emotions back. “You’ve already discussed this with him, haven’t you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “You and Cole’s father have planned everything, and Cole…he knows?” “Yes,” my father admitted. “Cole is aware, and he’s agreed. This alliance will solidify both companies’ legacies. You must do this, Emily.” “Must?” I repeated, my voice trembling with a mixture of fury and despair. I stared at him, my vision blurring as the tears I’d been holding back threatened to spill. “You’re not giving me a choice.” “No,” he said firmly. “I’m not. Because this is bigger than you, Emily. It’s for the best.” The best. The words echoed in my head like a cruel joke. How could this be for the best? My father had just casually announced that I was to marry the one man I’d spent years despising, the man who had ruined my self-worth and humiliated me beyond repair. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision. But the tears won. They brimmed in my eyes, blurring the room around me. My voice cracked as I whispered, “You don’t care about what I want, do you?” My father stood, his expression softening just slightly. “I care about your future, Emily. And this is the right path. You’ll see that in time.” I stared at my father, wide-eyed, as though he’d just told me I had to wrestle a bear for breakfast. My heart pounded against my ribcage, and I couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. My lips parted to say something…anything…but no words came. And then he dropped the final bomb. “You’ll be meeting with Cole and his father tomorrow evening to discuss the arrangements,” he said, his tone calm and matter-of-factly, like he was announcing the weather. “The wedding will take place in a week.” I felt the air leave my lungs. My knees wobbled, and for a moment, I genuinely thought I might faint. “A week?” I choked out, my voice shaky. “Yes,” he said, his brow furrowing slightly as though he couldn’t understand why I wasn’t on board with his ridiculous plan. “It’s better to move quickly. There’s no reason to delay.” I pressed my hand to my chest, trying to steady my breathing, but my heart was hammering so hard it felt like it might explode. “You’re not serious,” I said, my voice trembling with disbelief. He folded his arms across his chest, his expression firm. “I’ve never been more serious, Emily. This is happening. Tomorrow evening, we’ll finalize the details.” I took a step back, shaking my head like that would somehow erase everything he’d just said. My breathing quickened, and my stomach twisted into knots. “A week?” I repeated, my voice rising with panic. “You’re giving me a week to get married to a man I can’t even stand?” “Emily,” he said sharply, his voice like a blade cutting through my protests. “This isn’t up for debate. I expect you to be at that meeting tomorrow evening. And I expect you to act like the professional I raised you to be.” Professional? Professional?! I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw something, to smash the pristine vase on the desk into a thousand pieces. Instead, I clenched my fists so tightly my nails bit into my palms, and I glared at him, my chest heaving. “You can’t do this to me,” I said, my voice cracking. “You can’t just decide my life for me like this. I’m not a pawn you can move around for your stupid business deals.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was the one who was exhausted. “Emily, this is for your own good. You’ll see that eventually.” “No,” I snapped, my voice rising with fury. “I won’t see that. I’ll never see that. This is insane! How do you expect me to marry someone I barely know? Someone I despise?” My father didn’t flinch, his expression as unreadable as ever. “Because you’re a Hart,” he said simply. “And Harts do what’s necessary.” I let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and filled with anger. “Necessary? This is necessary to you? Selling me off like a business transaction?” His expression darkened, and he pointed a finger at me. “Enough, Emily. You’ll do this, or you’ll face the consequences.” My jaw tightened, and tears pricked at my eyes again. I felt like the ground was spinning beneath me, like I might collapse under the weight of everything. My throat tightened, and I pressed my fingers to my temples, willing the growing headache to stop. Tomorrow evening. One week. The room felt too small, the walls too close. My pulse thundered in my ears as I stumbled back a step. “I can’t…” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I can’t do this.” But his response was final, delivered with a coldness that made my stomach churn. “You don’t have a choice.” I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole.Smith's POV. I didn’t want to come here.I had been putting it off for months. Every time Stevie-lou brought it up, I changed the topic or acted like my phone rang. She never pushed. She just looked at me with those calm eyes, nodded, and said, "Okay. When you're ready."But the truth was, I wasn’t sure I'd ever be ready.Now I was standing on a patch of grass, next to a headstone with the name Raymond Parker carved into it.1969 - 2025.It was a nice headstone. Clean with black granite with gold lettering. There were fresh flowers by the side. A little wooden frame with a picture of him smiling at what looked like a birthday party.I remember that face. That was the same man who came to my office looking like life had chewed him up and spat him back out. He had looked desperate. He had looked broken. He had stood right in front of my desk, holding his cap in his hand like a man holding out hope. And I turned him away like he was nothing.Stevie-lou was kneeling by the grave. Her han
Stevie-lou's POV. I remember the moment they told me I was finally being discharged. Like waking from a long nightmare but still feeling trapped inside it. My legs shook when I tried to stand, and Smith was right there, steady as ever, catching me before I fell.“You don’t have to be a hero today,” he said softly, brushing my hair back from my face. His eyes were tired, but full of something fierce…like he’d been holding it together for both of us.“I just want to go home,” I whispered. My voice cracked, thick with everything I’d been holding in.He nodded and helped me sit up, then carefully hooked my arm around his shoulder as we walked out of the hospital. The quiet buzz of the city outside felt strange, almost like it didn’t belong to me anymore.The ride back to the penthouse was quiet. Smith didn’t say much, just held my hand on the leather seat. I could feel him watching me, his thumb tracing slow circles on my skin, like he was trying to remind me I was real, right there besi
Stevie-lou's POV. Everything hurt.That was the first thing I knew when I opened my eyes. A dull, throbbing pain in my shoulder, like someone had shoved a hot poker through it and decided to leave it there. My head was foggy, my mouth dry, and the light in the room was way too bright. I squinted against it, trying to sit up, but my body protested with every tiny movement.And then I heard him."Easy, baby. Don’t move too much."Smith.His voice cut through the haze, and I turned my head slowly to find him sitting beside my bed. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His hair was a mess, his eyes bloodshot, his jaw lined with exhaustion and something deeper...something raw. His hand reached out, brushed a few strands of hair from my face."You’re awake," he breathed, almost like he couldn’t believe it.I blinked at him, my vision sharpening. "Hey..."That one word took all the energy I had. My voice was hoarse, barely there, but it made him smile anyway. And God, that smile. Soft. Ti
Smith's POVThe second his finger twitched, I moved.I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t have the luxury to think. There was no logic, no plan, just raw instinct. My body surged forward before my brain could even register the danger. I lunged at Jeremy, both arms extended, grabbing for the barrel of the gun just as the shot rang out.The sound was deafening...sharp and violent. It tore through the air like an explosion, echoing off the walls and rattling in my skull. It was like a bomb had gone off in a confined space. My ears rang instantly, a high-pitched whine setting in as the immediate aftermath of the blast.Stevie-Lou screamed...a sound so piercing, so full of fear, it cut through everything else.Jeremy fought back, struggling like a man possessed, but I had the element of surprise. He wasn’t expecting me to close the distance so fast. His grip on the gun was sloppy, panicked. His hands trembled, his arms flailed wildly. I latched on tighter, wrapped my hands around his wrist and twis
Stevie-lou's POV.I pulled him closer again, like I couldn’t get enough of his touch, his warmth, his presence. My hands trembled as they roamed over his shoulders, down his back. His lips parted under mine, soft and urgent at the same time, like he’d been starving for this too. I kissed him harder, deeper, as if trying to erase all the distance, the hurt, the time we’d lost.I slid my fingers into his hair, tugging gently, wanting him to know I was here, that I was real...no more walls, no more hiding. I wanted him to see me...the real Stevie-lou, not the lying woman who had betrayed and used him. I reached down, pulling at the hem of my shirt, hoping maybe if I stripped away the last layers of myself, he’d feel like this was all true, all ours.But before I could get the shirt over my head, his hand caught my wrist. Firm but gentle, like he didn’t want to scare me off but had to stop me anyway.“Hey,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from my face. His eyes were softer than
Stevie-lou's POV.I stared at the door for a long second after it creaked open, like I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing.Smith.Tall, stiff, in that dark coat he always wore when he was working. He looked like he’d come straight from barking orders to a boardroom full of terrified execs. Only now, he was standing in my crappy little doorway, his jaw clenched and his eyes everywhere but on me. Like even being here pissed him off, but not enough to walk away.My hand was still on the doorknob. I didn’t say anything.He didn’t either.Just pushed the door wider and walked in. Like it was his place. Like nothing had changed.Like I hadn’t wrecked him."You changed the locks," he muttered, eyeing the new hardware with a frown.My throat dried up. "Yeah."He didn’t answer. Just kept walking in like he was looking for something to be mad about. His eyes scanned the small, crumbling living room. The faded couch with the sagging cushions. The cracked tile near the kitchen entrance. One