Emma’s POV

"Shh." He pressed a finger to my lips. "No more questions tonight. Just dance with me."

So I did. I danced with Marcus Blackwood until my feet hurt and my head spun and I couldn't remember why this was supposed to be fake.

But in the back of my mind, Victoria's words echoed: "Blackwood men have a habit of keeping secrets."

And I had a terrible feeling I was about to find out exactly what secrets Marcus was hiding.

"Take me home," I said finally.

"Your home or mine?"

"Mine. Alone. We have rules, remember?"

"Rules you're already breaking."

"What do you mean?"

He pulled me closer, so close I could feel his heartbeat. "You're falling for me, Emma Chen."

"I'm not—"

"And the worst part?" He lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. "I'm falling for you too."

Before I could respond, before I could process what that meant, a woman's scream cut through the music.

We turned to see Victoria standing by the bar, champagne dripping from her hair, Sophia beside her with an empty glass and a vicious smile.

"Oops," Sophia said loudly. "How clumsy of me."

And I realized with horrible clarity that my stepsister and Marcus's ex had just joined forces.

This was about to get so much worse.

The hangover from last night's chaos felt like karma kicking me in the teeth. Sophia and Victoria together was a nightmare I hadn't seen coming. They'd spent the rest of the night at Eclipse whispering in corners, shooting looks at Marcus and me that promised trouble.

Now, sitting in my empty apartment, surrounded by boxes Ryan had packed while I was gone, reality hit hard. The locks had been changed. My key didn't work. The doorman, Paul, who'd always been kind to me, had to let me in with the spare.

"Mrs. Blackwood... I mean, Ms. Chen," Paul had stammered. "Mr. Blackwood said you'd be by for your things. The movers are coming at noon."

Three years of my life reduced to boxes labeled in Ryan's messy handwriting. "Emma's junk." "Garbage?" "Salvation Army."

My design portfolios were in the trash pile. Of course they were.

My phone buzzed. Marcus: "Car will be there in twenty minutes. You're staying at my penthouse."

I typed back: "That's not part of our deal."

"Your apartment locks have been changed. It's practical."

How did he know about the locks?

Another text: "James found you a better place. You can move in Tuesday. Until then, you're with me."

"People will talk."

"That's the point."

I wanted to argue, but where else could I go? My stepmother would slam the door in my face. I had no real friends anymore, Ryan had made sure of that.

A knock interrupted my pity party. I opened the door to find James holding coffee and a bakery bag.

"Mr. Blackwood thought you might need these," he said kindly.

"He sent you to check on me."

"He's concerned." James stepped inside, surveying the boxes with disgust. "Your husband is a small, petty man."

"Soon to be ex-husband." I took the coffee gratefully. "James? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Marcus's brother. Is it someone I should worry about?"

James was quiet for a long moment. "Mr. Blackwood hasn't seen his family in ten years. That kind of pain changes a person."

"But who is his brother?"

"That's not my story to tell." He pulled out an envelope. "But this might interest you. Preliminary paperwork for your divorce. Mr. Blackwood's lawyers drew it up."

"Marcus hired me lawyers?"

"The best in Chicago." James smiled. "Your husband is about to learn what happens when he discards something precious."

The paperwork was thick, full of legal terms, but one thing stood out: Ryan owed me half of everything, including his company shares.

"He'll never agree to this."

"He will when he realizes the alternative is Mr. Blackwood destroying him completely." James checked his watch. "The car will be here soon. Pack what matters. Leave the rest."

What mattered fit in two suitcases. My mother's jewelry box. Photo albums from before Dad died. My laptop with all my real design work. The wedding dress I didn't know why I was keeping.

The car was exactly what I expected: black, expensive, screaming money. The driver didn't speak as we wound through Chicago toward the Gold Coast.

Marcus's building touched the sky. The doorman knew my name. The elevator required a special key. The penthouse was a temple of glass and steel with views that made me dizzy.

Marcus stood by the windows, phone to his ear, gesturing sharply. He was in jeans and a black sweater, more casual than I'd seen him, but somehow more dangerous too.

"No, the contracts need revision. I don't care what legal says." He turned, saw me, and his expression softened. "Handle it, James. I'm done for today."

He hung up, crossing to me in three strides. "You okay?"

"You didn't have to send James."

"Yes, I did." He took my suitcases like they weighed nothing. "Guest room is this way."

The guest room was bigger than my entire old apartment. The closet was already full of shopping bags from yesterday.

"This is too much," I said.

"It's not enough." He set my bags down, then surprised me by pulling me into a hug.

I stiffened, then melted. He smelled like safety and danger mixed together.

"What are you doing?" I mumbled against his chest.

"You looked like you needed it."

"This is supposed to be fake."

"So is this." But his arms tightened around me.

My phone rang. Unknown number. I answered without thinking.

"Emma?" My stepmother's shrill voice made me flinch. "What have you done? Sophia is crying! Ryan says you're ruining everything with your selfishness!"

"He cheated on me, Linda."

"So? Men cheat. You hold your head high and keep your family together."

"With my stepsister?"

"Sophia loves him. She's carrying his baby. You need to step aside gracefully."

"Gracefully?" I laughed, but it came out broken. "He threw out my things. Changed the locks."

"Because you're being difficult. Sign the papers, Emma. Take the twenty thousand he's offering and go away."

"Twenty thousand?" Marcus grabbed the phone. "This is Emma's attorney. She's not signing anything. If you contact her again, we'll consider it harassment."

He hung up and handed the phone back.

"You're not my attorney."

"I'm better." He tilted my chin up. "I'm your revenge."

"I don't want revenge. I want to disappear."

"No, you don't." His thumb traced my cheek. "You want to show them all they were wrong about you. That you're not the mouse they thought you were."

"How do you know?"

"Because I was you once. Betrayed by family. Discarded. Told I wasn't enough." His eyes went dark with memory. "I know what it's like to want to burn it all down."

"What did you do?"

"I became someone they couldn't ignore. Someone they'd regret losing." He stepped back. "Dinner's in an hour. Wear the blue dress."

"We're going out?"

"We're being seen. Ryan's partner is hosting a party tonight. Black tie, very exclusive."

"Ryan will be there."