Claiming Emery 의 모든 챕터: 챕터 41 - 챕터 50

“Well, this was quickly handled.”Mel's voice rang throughout the silent room, while I watched the man handling the camera struggle to coil his cables. I stood glued to the ground paying a deaf ear to Mel's words. My focus was on the stranger who was dismantling his equipment.After they finished clearing up their equipment, the penthouse suddenly felt a little too big and too quiet without the low hum of their equipment. But the white couch where Killian and I had sat twenty minutes ago was still, holding our impression. They hadn't returned it back to its position.“Hello to you too, Mel.” I said. I didn't turn around, instead, I turned to one of the lighting technicians at my right who was struggling with a particularly stubborn tripod, and I found myself focused on his awareness hands instead of facing whatever information she'd brought me.“The early reactions are already live.” She dropped her tablet on the marble counter with a sh

“You're staring at that phone like it might bite you.”Killian's voice cuts through the morning silence. He has been at his desk for hours, going through the files Alec had left behind, and his concentration was sharp. He has gotten up from the chair since Alec left. But he's watching me too, always watching.I gripped my coffee mug tighter, staring at the contact name on my screen accusingly: Harper. The woman I told my secret to, the woman who was there even during my college days, who painted my nails during the college final. The same woman advised me to stay strong after my divorce from Tobias, the same person who held my hand at charity galas when others poured champagne on me.That same woman who sold me out.“I need to make a call.”“About last night?”“About everything.”Killian finally set down his papers, his piercing blue-gray eyes stared at mine from across the room, and I saw the question in his eye that he had refused to ask. Trust had been a fragile glass between us—on

I grip the makeup brush handle so tightly that it left lines in my palm. I sat on my dressing mirror and watched as Killian paceed behind me, his phone pressed to his ear, already deep in damage control mode for a night that hadn't even started.His tuxedo jacket hung over the chair like a costume waiting for its actor. Everything about tonight would be a performance—the smiles, the small talk, the carefully display of unity. My red dress was chosen not because I loved it, but because it photographed well under harsh camera lights.“Smile tonight,” I said without looking up from my reflection. “Just for the cameras.”His pacing stopped. “smiling isn't really nmy thing, you know that.”I met his eyes in the mirror. The makeup brush trembled slightly in my hand.“Then that's going to be a problem.”Neither of us smiled.~~~~The Whitmore Gala sprawled across the entire top floor of the Meridian Hotel, crystal chandeliers casting rainbow patterns on marble floors while string quartets pl

“The boardroom feels like a gladiator arena, and you're dressed for war.”I stood beside Killian as he adjusted his charcoal suit jacket, the morning light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Wolfe Tower's thirty-second floor. Below us, the city bustled with ordinary Friday morning chaos—coffee runs, taxi horns, people rushing to meetings that wouldn't change their lives forever.“Good,’’ he said, his voice carrying that particular edge that meant someone was about to have a very bad day. “That's exactly what this is.”The boardroom stretched before us like a battlefield, its mahogany table polished to mirror brightness. Twelve leather chairs waited for their occupants, but only eleven would leave with their dignity intact. David Henley entered first, with briefcase in hand, wearing the kind of confident smile that meant he still thought he was orchestrating this meeting. Behind him came the other board members—Harold Thorne, Patricia Kim—all trying to look casual while

Killian doesn't just want to win. He wants to obliterate.I could see it in the way his fingers tapped against his coffee cup, in the stillness that settled over him when Alec spread new intelligence across our dining table. The morning light that streamed through the penthouse windows catches the sharp angles of his face, highlighting the cold calculating in his eyes.“Seventeen companies,” Alec says, pointing to red pins scattered across a map of the United States. “All tech startups, all targeted in the past eighteen months. Same pattern—board infiltration, strategic leaks, hostile takeover attempts.”“All Vivian's work?” I ask, studying the geographic spread.“Her and her consortium. They've been systematically acquiring promising tech companies, gutting the leadership, then flipping them for massive profits.” Alec's finger traces connections between the pins. “Your company was just the biggest prize.”Killian sets down his cup with controlled precision. “How many succeeded?”“Twe