Chapter 9

The quiet café felt unusually heavy with silence. After what felt like forever, Daniel finally broke it. "Emily… you should get a divorce." The metallic clink of the spoon hitting her coffee cup felt like nails on a chalkboard. Emily's hand froze mid-motion. Divorce… The man she had loved for so long had become the source of her deepest wounds. Maybe it really was time to let go. But what about Grandpa? Oliver was already gone. She couldn't lose Grandpa too. “I can't,” she said, shaking her head. The smile she gave was faint, but unshakably firm. “I won't.” “Why not?!” Daniel blurted out. His heart ached at the sight of the bruise on her forehead and her swollen lips. He had a bad gut feeling the moment James invited him over, and the second he walked into that office and saw what was happening—he lost it. The girl he'd always protected… now crushed under that man's heel. If he'd known things would end like this, he would've dragged her away the day before her wedding. He grabbed her hand, holding on tight. “Leaving that bastard isn't such a bad thing, right? You'll have me. I'll take care of you… I promise.” It was the second time he'd confessed his feelings. The first was before her wedding. She turned him down. And now… He could only watch as she gently slipped her hand away, the warmth gone in an instant. “I'm sorry, Daniel. I've always seen you as a brother.” Her voice was soft. Apologetic, yet so resolute. She couldn't let him get entangled in her mess. She couldn't give him false hope. Daniel felt like all the blood had drained from his face. He had to swallow hard before he could speak again. “He's done all this to you… and you still love him?” Emily took a sip of her coffee. The bitter taste spread deep inside her chest. Love? She wasn't even sure anymore. But hate? That she could feel, crystal clear. Daniel left like his soul had already given up. Emily sat there for a long time after he left, emotionless, just staring. When she finally got up and walked into the rain, it felt like everything was weighing her down. Back at home, she found maids bustling around, moving things everywhere. “Throw all this crap out and burn it. It's bad luck.” Emily dashed forward and blocked their way. “Stop! Who told you you could touch Oliver's things?!” One of the maids scoffed at her and said, “Miss Taylor's orders. Young Ethan's recovering, and this stuff brings bad vibes.” Emily slapped the maid across the face. Her voice shook with rage.“Sophie, who the hell do you think you are? What gives you the right to touch Oliver's stuff?!” Smash— The sharp crack of glass hitting the floor cut through the air. Emily turned around to see Sophie standing there, ridiculously smug. “Oops. Butterfingers,” Sophie said with a smile dripping with fake innocence. Emily's eyes dropped to the ground—it was the only picture she had with Oliver. That one photo took her forever to convince him to take. He'd always been so self-conscious. And now Sophie's heel slowly pressed into Oliver's face on the photo. “Get the hell away from that!” Emily shouted, lunging forward, but the bodyguard blocked her path. Sophie stayed all smiles, mocking her. “Relax, Emily. Lose your cool again and it won't just be your brother James kicks out next time.” “What are you talking about?” Emily snapped. “You think I could toss that loser's junk without James green-lighting it first?” Sophie covered her mouth while letting out a laugh that was way too proud of itself. Then, waving to the servant, she added, “Keep going.” Emily struggled like crazy, but there was nothing she could do but watch them toss out everything Oliver ever owned. When the bodyguard finally let her go, she bolted to the storage room Oliver used to live in. Completely empty. Not even a trace left. She stormed back out and grabbed Sophie by the collar. “Where's Oliver's urn?!” Sophie tilted her head, lips curling, “The ashes? Oh, you mean that thing?” Emily's gaze followed where she gestured—the urn lay alone at the foot of the stairs. “You're evil! You little rat! Glad you're dead!” A small boy stomped up the stairs and stepped right on the urn, spitting on it with a loud “ptoo.” “Ethan, sweetie, if you keep doing that, Auntie Emily's gonna be mad,” Sophie giggled, eyes full of approval. “Get away! Don't touch it!” Emily screamed, trying to break past the guard, but he held her firm. The boy laughed, yanked down his pants, and literally peed on the urn. Emily lost it. “No! You monsters!!!” She pounced like a wild animal, clawing with her nails, biting like she'd lost her mind. One brutal kick hit her stomach, sending her hard to the floor. “My son honored your trashy brother. You should be thankful,” Sophie sneered, stepping up with a hard slap across Emily's face. “If it weren't for Ethan, that filthy kidney he donated would've burned to ash with the rest of him.” Emily let out a raw, broken scream. Her hand hit something sharp—glass. She leapt to her feet and stabbed the piece straight at Sophie's neck. Blood sprayed everywhere.