Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 71 - Chapitre 80

Emma's POV The days following my visit to my mother’s apartment were a blur of emotions, headlines, and haunting memories I thought I had long buried. But perhaps the strangest thing was the calm I felt once I left her building. Not peace, exactly—no, nothing about that woman could bring peace—but a strange kind of closure. Like I had finally faced the monster under my bed and found it smaller than I remembered. But even monsters had teeth. And I was about to learn just how sharp hers still were. Xander tried to distract me. He did everything in his power. He took me out, booked a spa day, even had my favorite pastries flown in from that tiny bakery in Paris I’d only ever mentioned once. I knew he meant well—knew he was trying to pull me into his light—but the shadows from my past were thick, clinging, and eager to remind me that no amount of affection could erase what had been done. I still smiled. I still kissed him. I still let him hold me at night. But I also knew something

Chapter 74: Echoes of a Name Xander’s POV I used to think silence was a kind of peace. But in the past twenty-four hours, I’d learned otherwise. Silence could be rage. Silence could be grief. Silence could be the scream of a soul unraveling. Emma hadn't spoken since the photo. She hadn’t cried, either. She just folded into herself, like something small and soft curling away from a storm it couldn’t outrun. Even in sleep—if you could call that rest—she shivered beneath the covers, her fingers twitching like they remembered pain even if her mouth refused to speak it. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched her breathe. One inhale. One exhale. Tense. Measured. Fragile. And I made a decision. This ends now. --- Danielle was still up when I walked into the study. She didn’t ask if I was okay. She knew the answer. “Talk to me,” I said. She spun the laptop around. “I started with her stepfather. Dug deeper into his transactions. It wasn’t just hush money.” She clicked, an

Xander’s POV She slept in longer than usual. I didn’t wake her. I sat near the window, laptop open, coffee cooling untouched, my eyes more on her than the screen. She lay curled under the blanket, cheek pressed to the pillow, one arm stretched toward the empty space I’d just left. Emma. There was something sacred about watching someone sleep when they trusted you enough to do it deeply. She hadn’t flinched when I moved. Hadn’t stirred when I kissed her shoulder and whispered I’d be in the other room. It wasn’t just peace. It was progress. And I would protect it at all costs. Even if it meant war. Danielle’s name lit up my phone. I answered on the second ring. “Tell me you’ve got something good,” I muttered. There was a pause on the other end. Then: “That depends. How do you feel about front-page news?” I stood slowly, already reaching for the remote. “The article dropped?” “Not ours,” she said darkly. “Theirs.” My stomach sank. I turned on the TV. There it was. B

Emma’s POV The day after the pregnancy scare felt like walking through a dream that was finally quiet. No one was chasing me. No headlines. No betrayal. No ghosts. Just sunlight, soft air, and Xander’s oversized hoodie wrapped around my body like a shield. I didn’t know what I wanted from the day. But I knew what I didn’t want. No planning. No press. No war meetings or contingency strategies. No rehearsing what to say if someone tried to use my past against me. Just… air. Peace. Him. And pancakes, maybe. --- I stood barefoot by the window, staring out at Manhattan. I used to hate this view. Too high. Too exposed. Too much. Now, it felt like the only place that made sense. Because no matter how loud the world got, up here—it was just us. Xander appeared behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” I leaned back into him. “I want to do nothing today.” “Define nothing.” “No press, no talk of family, no emails or

Emma’s POV The world looked different from up here. I stood on the rooftop of Blake Tower, thirty-nine floors above Manhattan, wrapped in the kind of silence that only exists in high places—soft, reverent, detached from the chaos below. The sun had just dipped beneath the skyline, and in its place, the city had come alive with light. Thousands of windows flickered like stars in steel constellations. Headlights wove through traffic in ribbons. The breeze tugged at the silk of my dress as if reminding me: I was no longer the girl who hid from herself. I was no longer Diane’s shadow. No longer a forgotten name on a graduation list. No longer just “the girl who got a second chance.” I was Emma Davis. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like I was running from anything. I felt like I was walking into something. --- My phone buzzed beside me, but I didn’t look at it. I knew who it was. Xander. He’d been with me through everything—the secrets, the scars, the night I