The rain hadn't stopped.
It painted the windows in relentless streaks, blurring the outside world like a dream Emma couldn't wake from. She stood still, one hand pressed against the cold glass, but her thoughts were anything but calm.
Celeste.
The name had become a shadow that followed her slipping into her mind, poisoning the few moments of peace she tried to hold on to.
And Alexander
He kept shutting her out, locking pieces of himself behind a wall of silence. Each time she thought she was close to breaking through, he'd disappear again emotionally, if not physically.
Behind her, Lila sat cross legged on the bed, swirling a spoon through her cup of tea with infuriating elegance.
"You've been quiet since the last night" she said, not looking up. Let me guess. Still thinking about Celeste?
Emma turned slowly. Do you know more about her than you are telling me?
Lila's eyes flicked up, unreadable. More than you, clearly.
That hit a nerve. Emma didn't respond right away. She grabbed her coat instead.
Let's go, she said sharply.
Where? Lila asked, setting her cup down.
To find someone who's not playing games with me.
An hour later, Emma and Lila stood in the drizzle outside the dormant Blackwood Foundation headquarters. The building's lights were dim, but a single glow flickered from the upper floor.
Lila knocked. No answer.
She knocked again. Then, just as they turned to leave, the door creaked open.
Gerald Klein stood in the frame, older than Emma had imagined. Gray at the temples. Suspicious eyes.
What the hell are you two doing here? he asked.
I need answers about Celeste, Emma said plainly.
At the name, Gerald's entire demeanor changed. He stepped back without a word, ushering them in and locking the door behind them.
Inside, the air smelled of paper and dust. The room was lined with file cabinets and the occasional glass frame photos of Alexander's father shaking hands with powerful men.
She was trouble, Gerald said after a long silence. "Smart. Ruthless. She got into people's heads and knew exactly where to press. She had Alexander wrapped around her finger once. Until she got greedy."
What did she want? Emma asked.
Control, he replied. And she nearly had it. But Mr. Blackwood Senior figured it out she was laundering money through the Foundation, using Alexander as her front.
And when she got caught?
Gerald's jaw tightened. "A month later, the old man was dead. A heart attack, they said. But it was too clean. Too convenient."
"You think she had him killed?"
Gerald didn't answer. He just looked at Emma and said, "If Celeste is back, you're not safe. And neither is Alexander."
Lila looked up sharply. "She's already started. Emma's getting threats. And I don't think she's done."
Gerald turned to Emma, voice low. "Then you need to ask yourself: is this marriage worth dying for?"
They returned just after midnight.
The house was dark, except for a single light in the entryway and Alexander standing beneath it, waiting like a shadow come to life.
Emma stepped inside, soaked from the rain. He didn't move.
Where were you? he asked, voice cold.
Digging up your past, Emma answered just as coldly. "Since you refuse to tell me about it."
With her? His gaze turned to Lila, who stood behind Emma like a ghost.
She had answers you didn't.
Alexander's fists clenched. "She's manipulating you."
And you're not? Emma shot back. "Every time I ask about Celeste, you treat me like a child. Like I don't deserve to know what I've been dragged into."
I didn't want you involved.
Too late.
There was silence. Then, softly, Emma asked, "Did she kill your father?"
Alexander didn't speak at first. His eyes drifted to the floor, then back to her.
I don't have proof, he finally said. But I believe she did. And I believe she's capable of worse.
And me? Her voice cracked slightly.
Was marrying me really just to protect your empire? Or was it your way of keeping me close without trusting me?
His jaw clenched. I am trying to keep you safe.
Safe, she echoed, stepping forward. "From what, Alexander? The world? Or your own guilt?"
His voice dropped. "From her. She knows who you are now. And she won't stop until she ruins you or uses you to get to me."
Emma's chest rose and fell with the weight of realization.
Then let me help you fight her.
Alexander shook his head, but she didn't let him turn away.
You think you're protecting me by shutting me out, but all you're doing is making me an easier target. I'm in this now. And I'm not walking away."
A long silence passed between them.
Then, for the first time in what felt like days, his eyes softened.
You're braver than I gave you credit for, he murmured. "And that terrifies me."
Outside the gates, rain kissed the hood of a sleek black car.
Inside, Celeste watched the mansion through a telescope lens, a wicked smile painted across her face.
She flicked through the photos on the seat beside her Emma stepping out of a car, talking with Gerald, arguing with Alexander.
On the last page, a contract.
Alexander's signature. Emma's name.
Celeste's plan was no longer a whisper in the dark. It was a storm gathering speed.
"You're not a threat, Emma," she whispered. "You're just leverage."
Then she picked up her phone and made a single call.
"It's time."
The next morning was unusually still.
Emma awoke earlier than usual, the dream of Alexander's voice whispering "Don't get close" still ringing in her ears. She sat up slowly, brushing her hair away from her face. The sky was pale with morning light, but her chest felt heavy.
Something had changed between them.
He didn't just push her away he warned her. And part of her believed it wasn't just about emotions. There was something else. Something darker he hadn't said.
She padded downstairs barefoot, hoping for a quiet moment. But as she stepped into the hallway, she heard voices sharp, familiar, and distinctly female.
" this is ridiculous. You didn't even tell me you were back in town." Alexander said
Emma froze.
That voice. She didn't know who it was, but the tone carried too much history. Too much ownership.
She peeked around the corner. And there she was.
Tall, stunning, and dressed like a magazine cover in a silky beige set that screamed effortless wealth stood a woman with jet black hair and striking green eyes. She was leaning against the edge of the kitchen island like she belonged there.
Emma stepped into view.
Alexander noticed her first. His expression tightened not in the usual cold way, but like he'd been caught between two storms.
"Emma," he said evenly. "This is Celeste."
Celeste turned, her eyes scanning Emma from head to toe. Something flickered in her gaze not surprise, not quite curiosity. More like assessment.
"Oh," Celeste said with a perfectly arched brow. "The Emma."
Emma offered a polite nod. "Nice to meet you."
Celeste smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I didn't know Alexander had company."
"Wife," Emma corrected calmly. "I'm his wife."
That got a reaction.
A subtle shift in Lila's expression the kind only women catch. As if a line had been drawn in the sand and she hadn't expected to be on the other side.
"Wife?" Celeste echoed, voice sweet but sharp. "Interesting."
Alexander's voice cut in, low and firm. "Celeste was just leaving."
"Was I?" she asked, tilting her head.
He didn't answer. His gaze was on Emma now unreadable, guarded. Emma didn't flinch.
"Well," Celeste said, grabbing her purse with a little dramatic flair, "this just made my morning. I'll be seeing you, Alex. And you too Emma."
As she brushed past, Emma caught the faintest whiff of expensive perfume and something else beneath it. A silent challenge.
When the door closed behind her, silence filled the kitchen again.
Emma leaned against the counter. "She's beautiful."
Alexander said nothing.
"And bold. Does she always walk into people's houses unannounced?"
"She used to live here," he said simply.
Emma blinked. "She what?"
Alexander's jaw clenched. "A long time ago."
"You know what? Forget it," she said, pushing away from the counter. "You don't want me close, remember?"
He stepped forward. "It's not what you think."
"No?" she turned to him. "Then what is it, Alexander? She walks in like she owns the place. You look like you've seen a ghost. And me? I'm standing here trying to pretend I don't feel like the outsider in my own fake marriage."
"It's not fake."
His voice was so low she almost missed it.
Emma stared at him. "What?"
"This marriage… maybe it started as a contract. But now?" He looked at her then, really looked at her. "Now it's something else."
Her heart beat faster. "Then why do you keep pushing me away?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he turned and poured himself a glass of water like that question didn't burn holes through the silence.
Later that afternoon, Marissa brought Emma a folder.
"Mr. Blackwood said you should look through this. It's the background information on the charity event he mentioned."
Emma accepted it with a nod, flipping through the pages. She needed the distraction. Anything to keep her from replaying Celeste's smirk over and over in her head.
Inside were documents, dress options, venue layouts and photos. Photos of Alexander at past events. Smiling. Standing beside Celeste.
Her throat tightened. They looked good together.
Too good.
That evening, Emma stood in front of the full-length mirror in her closet, trying on a sleek black gown Marissa had laid out.
It was stunning a daring open back, with a slit that ran up her thigh. Classic. Elegant. Powerful.
And yet she still felt like the girl playing dress up in someone else's life.
A soft knock came at the door.
She turned. Alexander stood there, dressed in a perfectly tailored navy suit, his expression unreadable.
"You look" He stopped himself. "Ready?"
Emma nodded. "As I'll ever be."
He offered his arm. She hesitated then took it.
The charity gala was at the Grand Orchid Hotel, where the city's elite swam through champagne fountains and secrets. The media flashes were instant when they stepped out of the car Emma's fingers tightening slightly around Alexander's arm.
He leaned down. "Smile. They're watching."
She gave the cameras her most polished smile, wondering how many of these people already knew about the rushed wedding. Wondering how many of them would whisper behind flutes of champagne.
Inside, the ballroom was a sea of gold and crystal. Music floated from a live orchestra. Waiters glided with silver trays. And already, eyes were turning toward them.
But then
"Alex!" came a familiar voice.
Celeste.
In another show stopping gown, this one deep red, fitting like a second skin.
Emma's stomach dropped.
She breezed over, ignoring Emma completely as she leaned in to kiss Alexander on the cheek.
"Twice in one day," she purred. "You must miss me."
Emma stepped slightly closer, not touching him but close enough to be a reminder.
Alexander gave Celeste a polite nod. "celeste, this isn't the time."
"Is it ever?" she smiled. "You're always so serious. But if you ever need something real again you know where to find me."
She turned to Emma. "Enjoy your night, sweetheart."
Emma stared after her as she walked away. "Wow."
"I told you she was trouble," Alexander murmured beside her.
"And yet you almost looked like you missed it."
He looked at her then, sharply. "I didn't."
Emma's heart was thudding. "Why won't you let yourself feel anything for me?"
He stepped in closer, his voice low, intense. "Because I already do, Emma. And I can't afford to."
"Why not?" she whispered.
"Because the last time I loved someone, I lost her. And I swore I'd never feel that kind of pain again."
Emma stared at him. "I'm not her."
"I know. That's what scares me."
There, under the sparkling chandelier, surrounded by lies and laughter, Emma realized something.
Alexander wasn't cold because he didn't feel.
He was cold because he felt too much and he was terrified of letting it show.
And maybe just maybe she was the one person who could melt that ice.
Meanwhile Celeste in a corner of the room seems to be lost in thoughts and stares plotting her next plan.