Chapter Eight

EMMAH’S POV

The next day started off normal. I stood by the glass wall of my bedroom, the city lights were scattered like stars flung across the earth, blinking silently in the distance. I should’ve felt calm and safe. But my chest was tight, and my thoughts wouldn’t settle.

Something was coming. I could feel it.

A knock sounded gently on the bedroom door.

“Come in,” I called softly.

One of the maids stepped in with a silver tray. On it was a single white envelope, sealed with wax. She looked curious but said nothing as she placed it on the table.

“It was left at the front gate, miss. No name, no return address. Just this.”

My heart thudded as I walked toward it. I could already feel something strange humming through the air. The envelope was thick and looked expensive, the kind you didn’t just buy at the store. The wax seal had no initials. Just a single rose embossed into it.

I broke the seal and unfolded the parchment inside.

“There are things you don’t know. Come to dinner. Bring no guards.”

I stared at the signature. Declan. My father had introduced me to him just the day before. His voice had been low and warm, his eyes sharp with intelligence. He had been calm, not pushy. I had dismissed the meeting as one of Father’s polite setups. But now... he knew something.

For a moment, I hesitated. I didn’t owe Damian anything. And I certainly didn’t owe anyone the truth. But something about the message gnawed at me.

“There are things you don’t know.”

And so, I dressed. Something simple, elegant. A deep emerald green silk dress that clung to my frame, soft waves in my hair, and a touch of gloss on my lips. I didn’t want to look like a girl chasing answers.

I wanted to look like a woman ready for the truth.

The rooftop restaurant was just as discreet as the invitation. No name on the entrance, no noisy valet, just a quiet lift that took me straight to the top of a building that smelled of power and old money.

Declan stood as I entered. He wore a black suit with no tie, the top two buttons undone. His dark hair was pushed back, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“You’re braver than most,” he said with a smirk. “I half expected you to send your brothers instead.”

“They offered,” I said as I sat, my voice cool. “But I don’t need them to meet with a man who asks nicely.”

He poured me a glass of wine and handed it to me across the table. “You look... strong. Not broken. That matters.”

I sipped the wine and arched a brow. “You said there were things I didn’t know. I’m here. Say them.”

He leaned back, his expression shifting into something darker. “I wasn’t always on your side. I want you to know that first. Tasha is my ex. And she came to me months ago, angry, humiliated. Said the Wright family owed her. She wanted help bringing you down.”

My fingers froze around the wine stem.

“You helped her?”

“Almost. She told me she was sleeping with Damian, and she wanted to twist it into something bigger. Spread rumours about you and make it look like you were crazy. Unstable. Manipulate the media, even leak a fake affair involving your father’s company.”

My jaw clenched.

“But I didn’t go through with it,” he added quickly. “Because then I saw you. Quiet. Alone. Smiling at people who didn’t deserve it. And I realized... they weren’t destroying a woman who had power. They were afraid of a woman who hadn’t discovered hers yet.”

I remained quiet as the city wind tugged at my hair.

“I didn’t bring you here to warn you, Emmah. I brought you here because I want to be on the right side of your story.”

His words stunned me. They weren’t flirtatious or manipulative. Just true.

He looked at me carefully. “Let me show you something.”

From his inner coat pocket, he pulled out a flash drive.

“This has audio recordings. Of conversations between Tasha and Damian from months ago. Before you even told him about the pregnancy. He was planning to file for divorce once the inheritance from his grandfather was secured.”

My throat tightened.

I didn’t ask to listen. I didn’t need to.

I already knew it was true.

What I didn’t know, was that outside the rooftop restaurant, in a matte black car parked two blocks away, Damian sat watching.

The PI he had hired had tracked me there and he had followed.

And now he sat behind the wheel, staring up at the glass enclosed rooftop where I sat with another man. I laughed lightly, and it echoed in his ears through the surveillance mic.

“She never laughed like that with me,” Damian muttered, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t gone up there. Why he hadn’t stormed into the restaurant. Maybe because he didn’t want to see the look in my eyes. The one that said I had moved on.

The one that said he didn’t matter anymore.

By the time I returned to the Richard mansion, it was past midnight.

Grandpa Richards was asleep, and the staff had long since turned in. The house was quiet, too quiet.

I made my way to my room, my heels clicking softly against the marble floors. Just as I opened the door, I felt the shift in the air.

He was there.

Damian sat on the edge of the bed with his shirt undone and his head in his hands.

He looked up when I entered, his eyes bloodshot. A mixture of anger, grief, and exhaustion filled his face.

“You were with him.”

I didn’t answer. I just walked past him and removed my earrings.

“Emmah, please. Talk to me.”

I turned slowly. “Why? So you can tell me more lies? Or maybe beg me to stay while you’re still hiding your betrayal in every corner of this house?”

He stood. “I ended things with Tasha. I swear to you. She means nothing to me.”

“She never had to mean anything to you,” I said softly. “You gave her what you never gave me. A piece of your truth.”

He stepped closer. “I want to fix this. I want to be a husband and a father. I’ll never hurt you again. Just... don’t shut me out.”

His hand reached for mine but I stepped back.

“It’s too late, Damian. I don’t want to raise this child in a house filled with ghosts.”

His face fell. “Don’t say that. Don’t take the baby away.”

“I haven’t made my decision yet,” I lied. I had. But I wanted to watch the hope die slowly in his eyes.

He moved to kiss me, desperation leaking through his lips.

“Let me show you how sorry I am,” he whispered.

I turned my face.

“Don’t touch me, Damian. Not now. Not like this.”

He stood frozen, breathing heavily with desire and regret radiating off him. But I walked away, entering the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.

And left him standing there.

Waiting.

The next morning, a sleek black SUV pulled into the Richard mansion.

My father had sent a convoy.

Damian watched from the window as I stepped out, dressed in white, my face unreadable. He didn’t try to stop me this time. He knew I needed space.

When I arrived at the Williamson mansion, my brothers were waiting.

But this time, Declan was too.

My father walked in with him, his hand on the younger man’s shoulder.

“I trust you met yesterday,” he said with a smile. “Declan’s father and I built our empires together. And I trust his son with my life.”

I nodded slowly.

Declan gave me a short bow. “No pressure, Emmah. Just... allow me to be part of your world, even if it’s only for a moment.”

I didn’t answer.

But I felt a strange warmth inside my chest. For once, I wasn’t a woman begging to be seen. I was a woman being chosen.

When I returned to the Richard mansion that night, no one asked where I had been.

But Damian noticed something.

The look in my eyes had changed and that scared him more than anything else ever could.