Chapter four

EMMAH’S POV

The black Maybach pulled up in front of our mansion so massive it looked like a five star resort. Large gold gates, marble statues, high fountains, none of it felt familiar, even though this was supposed to be home.

I barely stepped out before the staff began to gather, lined up like soldiers. Maids, chefs, gardeners, even the security, all bowing slightly as I passed.

“Welcome home, Miss Emmah.”

The words felt foreign. I’d been called “Emmah Carter,” wife of Damian Wright, a nobody receptionist from a lower class background. But here… here, I was someone else. Someone born into wealth, privilege and power.

My shoes clicked against the polished marble floors as I walked into the grand foyer. A chandelier glittered above my head, dripping with crystals like starlight caught in a cage. My heart beat like it wanted to escape my chest.

They all looked at me like I was fragile, like I was glass that had been shattered and glued together.

I hated that they were right.

“Emmah!”

Three voices called my name at once.

Then arms were around me. Strong arms, familiar scents of cologne, motor oil, a whiff of whiskey engulfed me. Liam, Jake and Miles, my older brothers.

Each one of them taller, broader, more furious than I remembered.

“Who gave him the right to touch you?” Liam growled, his jaw tightening.

“If I get my hands on that bastard, I’ll...” Jake started, fists clenched.

“He’s not even worth the prison time,” Miles muttered, but his voice shook with fury.

I tried to hold it together. I really did.

“I’m fine,” I whispered.

“No, you’re not,” Jake said gently, brushing my hair back from my face. “You don’t have to be.”

I looked up at them and forced a trembling smile. “Just don’t do anything, okay? Not for me.”

“What?” Liam barked. “He cheated on you and humiliated you. You want us to do nothing?”

“I want you to let it go,” I said quietly. “For Grandpa Richard’s sake. If you hurt Damian, his grandfather suffers. And that man was the only decent part of that family.”

The three of them glanced at each other. backing down. They would’ve burned the world for me I knew that but I wasn’t ready to light the match... at least not yet.

I was shown to my room, if you could call a wing of the house a “room.”

Soft velvet curtains, a walk in closet the size of my entire apartment and bed that could easily sleep ten. It smelled like fresh roses and old memories but no luxury could silence the ache in my chest.

I stared at myself in the full length mirror. My skin was pale and my eyes hollow. Damian’s betrayal had drained the light out of me.

And yet… I touched my stomach.

Just a small bump, nothing visible yet. But I felt it beneath my skin.

Almost two months pregnant.

I sat down at the vanity and held my breath. I hadn’t told anyone yet, not my father or my brothers. No one knew.

Because I hadn’t made peace with it yet.

My heart twisted in my chest but I didn’t cry but my hand trembled as I traced slow circles over my abdomen.

“I won’t keep it,” I whispered to myself.

Tears finally slipped free.

“I can’t keep it. That’s the only thing tying me to him. And once it’s gone, I’ll be free.”

I curled up on the velvet couch, cradling my knees. A single sob escaped me, sharp and raw.

“I didn’t ask for any of this.”

Later that night, my father came in. Quiet, stern and powerful like always.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stood by the window, watching the stars.

“Emmah Williamson, my only daughter,” he finally said without turning around.

“You’ve changed,” he added.

“So have you,” I replied, my voice barely audible.

He turned then, looking older than I remembered.

“I never should’ve agreed to that marriage,” he muttered. “I thought he’d rise to the challenge and prove himself but he failed.”

“He did worse than fail,” I said coldly.

Silence.

“I’ve already spoken to my lawyers. We’ll dissolve the contract, erase any public connection to him. He’ll be nothing but a man who could’ve had everything.”

I didn’t respond.

He sat beside me, awkwardly. My father was never good with emotion.

“I know you don’t want revenge. That’s not your way. But you should know… if you ever change your mind, I won’t stop you.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

Then, with surprising gentleness, he reached out and touched my hand.

“You are my only daughter. You are your mother’s last gift to me and I will protect you. Even from your own pain.”

Tears filled my eyes again but I blinked them back.

“Goodnight, Daddy.”

“Goodnight, Emmah darling.”

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I lay awake, the ceiling spinning slowly above me.

And still… my hand drifted to my belly again.

Damian didn’t deserve to be a father. But did that mean the child didn’t deserve to live?

I didn’t know yet.

But for now, I made one promise to myself, I would not be weak again.

I would rise from this.

And one day, whether I kept this baby or not Damian Wright would look back and realize what he threw away. And it would haunt him forever.