The morning after her interview aired, Emily woke to a surprising stillness.
No media frenzy outside.No new scandal headlines.Just silence.
And the eerie calm made her uneasy.
She walked barefoot into the kitchen, expecting to see Alexander sipping coffee with a tablet in hand, but the penthouse was empty.
Only a note on the counter:
Meeting downtown. Back by noon. Proud of you.— A.
She smiled softly.Even his handwriting was composed.
But peace never lasted long.
At exactly 10:42 AM, the doorbell rang.
She assumed it was a delivery.She assumed wrong.
When she opened the door, Nathan Blake stood on the other side — hands in his pockets, expensive coat, and the same boyish smirk she used to fall for.
He looked at her like he hadn't just vanished from her world years ago.
"Hi," he said.
Emily blinked. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I needed to see you."
She tried to close the door. He blocked it with his foot.
"Please," he added. "Just five minutes."
She hesitated.
Then, against her better judgment, she stepped aside.
They sat across from each other in the sunroom. She kept her arms folded; he looked too comfortable for someone uninvited.
"I watched your interview," he said.
"Good. Then you know I've moved on."
Nathan leaned forward. "That's what I came to talk about."
She narrowed her eyes. "Nathan—"
"Look, Em. I know I screwed up. Leaving like that, when everything crashed… it was cowardly."
She said nothing.
He continued, "But Alexander Knight? A contract marriage? Don't you see what he's doing? He's using you."
She stood abruptly. "We're done here."
He stood too. "Just think about it! The kiss at the gala, the interview — it's perfect PR. His company's stock spiked 6% overnight. You're his golden story."
Emily's fists clenched. "You don't know anything about him."
"I know men like him," Nathan snapped. "And I know you. You need something real, not another strategy."
She laughed bitterly. "You have no right to talk about 'real.' You left when I had nothing."
"I was scared."
"You were selfish."
He moved toward her. "I still love you."
She flinched.
Then — a voice behind them:
"You need to leave. Now."
They both turned.
Alexander stood at the doorway, eyes like ice, jaw rigid.
Nathan smirked. "Speak of the devil."
Alexander didn't respond. He simply walked forward and placed a hand on Emily's back. Protective. Possessive. Calm.
"I won't ask again."
Nathan glanced at Emily. "He's not what you think he is."
She didn't reply.
He left.
Silence followed.
Back inside, Emily faced Alexander in the living room.
"I didn't invite him," she said first.
"I know."
"I didn't even know he'd show up."
"I believe you."
She looked away. "But what he said—"
"No," Alexander interrupted. "We're not doing that."
Her eyes flicked to his.
"You don't get to question what we've built because someone from your past decided to stir the dirt," he said.
She swallowed. "I'm scared."
"So am I."
She whispered, "Do you love me?"
He didn't answer immediately.Instead, he stepped closer, brushed his thumb gently across her cheek.
"I don't say things I'm not ready to prove," he said.
"Then prove it," she breathed.
He kissed her.
This time, no hesitation. No contract. No cameras.Just need.Want.Truth.
And in that moment, the past crumbled.Only they remained.
Later, as they lay on the couch, limbs entangled, silence stretching between deep breaths, Emily whispered:
"He said you're using me."
Alexander turned his head. "Then he's a fool."
"Are you?"
He looked at her. "I'd burn the whole deal if it meant keeping you."
She nodded once. "Then I'm staying."