Emma's POV
I drove away from the penthouse with shaking hands, tears blurring the city lights into streaks of gold and white.
Lily was staying with Julian tonight—our daughter needed to see her father actually parent for once. I'd left detailed instructions on the counter: bedtime routine, favorite stuffed animal, the specific way she liked her nightlight angled. Julian had looked at the list like I'd handed him instructions for building a rocket ship.
Good. Let him figure out how hard it is to raise a child alone.
My Brooklyn apartment felt too quiet when I walked in. For three years, this had been my secret sanctuary—the place where I could be Emma Hart, the designer, instead of Emma Pierce, the invisible wife. But tonight, even my haven felt hollow.
I dropped my purse and pulled out my phone. Seventeen missed calls. Twelve from Julian. Three from his mother Diana. Two from numbers I didn't recognize.
I ignored all of them and scrolled to the text from earlier.
Rachel Chen, Hart Holdings.
My father's company. The empire I'd walked away from when I was twenty-two, determined to make it on my own without the Hart family name. I'd built my design business from nothing, using a pseudonym so no one would accuse me of trading on family connections.
And Julian never knew. Never asked. Never cared enough to wonder where I went during the day or why I always had paint under my fingernails.
I stared at Rachel's number for a long moment, then pressed call before I could change my mind.
She answered on the first ring. "Mrs. Pierce. I was hoping you'd call."
"How did you get my number?"
"Your father has had people watching over you since you married Julian Pierce." Rachel's voice was kind but firm. "He wanted to make sure you were safe. And honestly? He's been waiting for you to wake up and leave that man for five years."
Something in my chest loosened. "My father knew how bad it was?"
"Everyone knew, honey. Everyone except you, because you kept hoping he'd change." Papers rustled in the background. "But you're done hoping now, aren't you?"
"Yes." The word came out steady. Strong. "I want a divorce. Full custody. And I want him to understand what he threw away."
"Good." I could hear Rachel's smile through the phone. "Then let's destroy him legally. I've already drafted the initial papers—they're sitting on his lap right now, actually. But Emma, there's something you need to know."
My stomach tightened. "What?"
"Your father is dying."
The world tilted sideways. "What?"
"Pancreatic cancer. Stage four. He has maybe six months, probably less." Rachel's voice gentled. "He didn't want to tell you while you were trapped in that marriage. He was afraid Julian would use it as leverage, or that you'd stay out of guilt. But now that you're leaving... Emma, your father wants to see you. Tonight if possible."
I couldn't breathe. My father—the man I'd barely spoken to in five years because he'd disapproved of Julian—was dying, and I'd wasted all this time.
"Where is he?"
"Hart Estate. I'll text you the address. Emma?" Rachel paused. "He's so proud of you. Everything you built on your own, your design work, the way you've raised Lily. He brags about you constantly to anyone who'll listen. He just wants to tell you himself before it's too late."
Tears streamed down my face. "I'll be there in thirty minutes."
I hung up and grabbed my keys with shaking hands. My phone buzzed immediately—Julian calling again. I rejected it and started typing a text to my father's number, but another message came through first.
Unknown number: Emma, this is Marcus Chen. Rachel's brother. I'm the architect you've been collaborating with on the Riverside project under your E. Hart name. Rachel told me what's happening. I just want you to know—you're not alone in this. If you need anything, and I mean ANYTHING, call me. You deserve so much better than how that man treated you.
I stared at the message. Marcus Chen. We'd worked together for two years, designing buildings and interiors that won awards. He'd always been professional, kind, respectful. He'd never once treated me like I was less than him.
Unlike my own husband.
I typed back: Thank you. That means more than you know.
His response was immediate: I mean it. You're brilliant, Emma. Don't let anyone make you forget that.
I wiped my eyes and drove to Hart Estate—the family mansion I'd avoided for five years. The gate opened automatically when I pulled up, like it had been waiting for me.
My father stood on the front steps.
Robert Hart was sixty-five but looked older now, thinner, his face hollow. When he saw me, though, his whole face lit up like I'd hung the moon.
"Emma." His voice cracked. "My girl."
I ran to him like I was ten years old again, and he caught me in a hug that smelled like home—cigars and expensive cologne and safety.
"I'm sorry," I sobbed into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry I stayed away. I'm sorry I chose him over you. I'm sorry—"
"Shh." He stroked my hair like he used to when I was little. "You have nothing to apologize for. You followed your heart. That's what I raised you to do."
"But you were right about Julian. You said he'd never appreciate me, and you were right."
"I hate being right about this." He pulled back and cupped my face. "But I'm so proud of you for leaving. That takes more courage than staying ever did."
We went inside, and my father showed me something I'd never seen before—a whole room dedicated to my work. Every design I'd ever published as E. Hart was framed on the walls. Articles about my projects. Awards I'd won. Photos of me with Lily that I didn't even know he had.
"You've been following my career?" I whispered.
"Every single day." He smiled sadly. "I couldn't be in your life, but I could celebrate your success from a distance. Emma, you built an empire without the Hart name. That's more impressive than anything I ever did."
"Dad—"
"I'm dying, sweetheart. We don't have time for polite denials." He sat down heavily in his chair. "I have six months if I'm lucky. And before I go, I need to make sure you and Lily are protected. That's why I'm giving you everything."
"What?"
"Hart Holdings. All of it. The company shares, the real estate, the investments. Forty percent of Pierce Industries included." His eyes were fierce now. "You're my only child, Emma. It's always been yours. I was just keeping it warm until you were ready."
"I can't run a company. I'm a designer—"
"You're a Hart. You can do anything." He pulled out a folder thick with documents. "Rachel will help you. She's brilliant, and she's loyal to our family. Marcus Chen too—that boy's been in love with you for a year, by the way. Didn't think I noticed, but I did."
My face burned. "Marcus is just a colleague—"
"Marcus is a good man who sees your worth. Unlike that waste of space you married." My father's voice turned cold. "Which brings me to Julian Pierce. Emma, I want you to understand something. When you divorce him, you hold all the power. The Hart family controls his company. We can vote him out as CEO tomorrow if we want."
The implications hit me like a truck. "You want me to destroy him?"
"I want you to have options." He met my eyes. "If he fights you on custody, we can crush him financially. If he drags this out, we can make his life hell. But Emma—" his voice softened, "—I also want you to be happy. Don't let revenge consume you. Get your freedom, protect Lily, and build the life you deserve."
I nodded, unable to speak.
My father handed me the folder. "These are the divorce papers with all our requirements. Full custody, generous settlement, and a clause that Sophie Hart is never allowed near Lily unsupervised."
"How did you know about Sophie?"
"Baby girl, I've had investigators watching Julian since the day you married him. I know about every lunch with Sophie, every late night at the office that was really dinner with her, every time he chose her over you." His eyes hardened. "And now he's going to pay for it."
My phone exploded with calls. Julian, over and over.
Then a voicemail notification popped up. I put it on speaker.
Julian's voice came through, desperate and broken: "Emma, please. I know I messed up. I know I've been the worst husband. But don't do this. Don't take Lily away from me. Don't destroy my company. I'll do anything. Please just... please call me back. I love—"
The message cut off.
My father raised an eyebrow. "He couldn't even finish saying he loves you."
I looked at the divorce papers in my hands, then at my phone where Julian's name kept lighting up the screen with more calls.
And then another text came through. Not from Julian.
From Sophie: Enjoy your little power play, Emma. But Julian will come back to me. He always does. You were just a placeholder until I was ready to settle down. Don't worry though—I'll be a much better mother to Lily than you ever were. :)
I showed my father the message.
His face went dangerous. "That girl just made a very stupid mistake."
"What do you mean?"
"Threatening you? Threatening my granddaughter?" He pulled out his phone and made a call. "Rachel, it's Robert. Sophie Hart just sent Emma a threatening message about taking Lily. I want a restraining order filed by tomorrow morning. And dig up everything on her—financials, social media, everything. If she wants to play dirty, we'll bury her."
He hung up and looked at me. "No one threatens my family, Emma. No one."
My phone rang again. This time it was a number I didn't recognize, but it had a Manhattan area code.
I answered. "Hello?"
"Mrs. Pierce?" A young woman's voice, nervous. "My name is Casey Martin. I... I work at Pierce Industries. I know I shouldn't be calling you, but I overheard Mr. Pierce and Sophie Hart talking today, and I think you need to know something."
My blood went cold. "What did you hear?"
"They've been having an affair for six years. Since before you got married. And Mrs. Pierce... Sophie is pregnant. She told Mr. Pierce today. She's twelve weeks along, and she says it's his baby."