Chapter 6: Silent Tensions

Ethan had never liked being photographed. Most of the time, when Emily pointed her camera at him, he had no expression, and sometimes he even showed irritation. But no matter how much he frowned or looked annoyed, Emily always praised how photogenic he was. She carefully developed the photos, placed them into albums or frames, and whenever she flipped through those pictures, she would smile warmly, just like when she looked at him in person, with love and affection almost overflowing.

But now, whether she was looking at him or at the albums, Emily's face was cold and distant. Ethan noticed that the photos she had once taken with such care were now discarded like worthless scraps of paper.

"Defective products," she called them.

He closed his long eyes for a moment, as if trying to suppress something. When he opened them again, his gaze was clear and devoid of warmth.

"We need to talk," Ethan said calmly.

His words reminded Emily of something. "Is the agreement ready?" she asked eagerly. "Did you bring it?"

Ethan was silent for a moment. "Not yet," he lied, without any hint of guilt. "There are still some issues with the property division that need to be clarified."

Before Emily could respond, he changed the subject. "The doctor has informed me about your memory loss. He also mentioned that with selective amnesia, there is a good chance that your memories will eventually return."

He paused, his dark eyes observing her closely. "So, you don't need to worry."

Emily looked anything but worried. Her husband's sudden shift to a more considerate tone was almost laughable.

Should she be touched? After waking up to a cold shoulder, being ignored after he had used her like a lifeless doll, he finally remembered her amnesia and, with a straight face, told her not to worry.

How considerate.

Before she could say anything, he continued, "Since you've lost your memory, you should rest. Let's forget about what has happened recently. I can pretend it never occurred."

"What?" Emily blinked, thinking she had misheard him.

"Don't worry," Ethan repeated. "I won't hold it against you."

Emily was stunned into laughter. Where did this man get his unfounded confidence from? Did he really think that just because he had money, everyone would fawn over him like he was a walking banknote?

Taking a deep breath, Emily unleashed a torrent of words. "Forget about it? I haven't even started yet! Who do you think you are, telling me what to do? Just because you have money, you think that makes you desirable? Get a grip!"

Each sentence seemed to darken Ethan's expression further. By the end of her rant, his temple veins were visibly pulsing.

Emily, seeing his frustration, felt a surge of satisfaction. Finally, she had managed to annoy him.

When he finally spoke, it was in a calm, measured tone. "It's 'big words,' not 'big face.'"

Emily blinked. "Huh?"

"The phrase is 'big words,' not 'big face,'" he clarified, his tone condescending.

Emily was left speechless.

You think you're so clever, don't you? She thought. If you're so smart, why don't you just fly to the moon?

He let out a faint, dismissive snort. "I think you've lost your mind, not just your memory."

Emily shot back, "And you're out of your mind."

Ethan's jaw tightened, his voice dropping to a low warning. "Emily, don't push me."

Today, his patience had been tested far beyond its usual limits, largely due to the doctor's comments about her supposed trauma. But Emily wasn't interested in pushing his buttons; she was simply done with him.

Without another word, she walked toward the wardrobe, flipped on the light, and began packing a suitcase. Ethan's annoyance grew as he watched her move.

"What are you doing now?" he asked, exasperated by the sight of the suitcase.

"I'm leaving," she said simply, without turning around. "When the divorce papers are ready, let me know."

Ethan remained silent, watching her with a dark, unreadable expression. His patience was wearing thin. Emily had left home several times before, only to spend lavishly elsewhere before returning. He had always chosen to ignore it, never once going after her.

But this time, he couldn't hold back. "If you leave now, don't bother coming back."

Without hesitation, Emily pulled up the suitcase handle and strode past him without a glance. "Don't worry, even if you begged me on your knees, I wouldn't come back."

Not unless you call me "Daddy," she thought to herself.

**

Leaving the mansion wasn't an issue, but finding a place that wasn't under Ethan's watchful eye was trickier. Deciding to avoid his influence entirely, Emily hailed a cab and headed to Jessica's apartment.

Jessica's place was a luxurious 300-square-meter flat in the city center, the epitome of expensive real estate.

As Emily toured the state-of-the-art bathroom, she pouted. "No hot springs pool, ugh."

Jessica could only roll her eyes. As if everyone made thirty thousand dollars a minute like her husband.

The upside of staying at Jessica's was the convenience—it was close to the studio where they worked.

Today was the day for selecting and editing the photos from Olivia's shoot. Emily had been on a roll that day, capturing more shots than usual.

"Olivia's agent called earlier. She wants to see the final photos," Jessica mentioned.

"Let her come," Emily said, not looking up from the photos. Despite her personal dislike for Olivia, she had taken the shoot seriously, as she always did with her work.

For Emily, photography was more than just capturing images. Every time she pressed the shutter, her heart leaped. Looking at the moments she had captured gave her a deep sense of accomplishment. To her, each photo was unique, a testament to a fleeting moment that would never happen again.

This was why she always gave her all in every shoot, striving for perfection. Olivia's shoot was no exception.

Emily and Jessica had spent a lot of time discussing Olivia's styling. Olivia's sharp features suited bold, dramatic looks, yet she always tried to present herself as an innocent girl-next-door, which the audience never quite bought.

Emily decided to bring out Olivia's true, vibrant persona. The set was filled with high-saturation colors, and the retro, bright makeup was eye-catching. The photos were infused with energy, making Olivia appear lively and dynamic.

One shot, in particular, stood out to Emily—Olivia holding a lantern while eating cotton candy. The contrast of her vibrant red outfit with her innocent expression was striking.

When Olivia finally saw the final shots, her initial smugness melted away. She was amazed at how beautiful she looked, especially in the cotton candy shot.

"Hey, Bella, come here," Emily called out, using Olivia's old name.

"Don't call me Bella!" Olivia protested, though her tone lacked conviction.

Ignoring her, Emily pointed at two possible cover photos. "Which one do you prefer?"

Olivia looked at the photos, still admiring her own beauty. After a moment, she pointed at the cotton candy shot. "This one is better!"

Emily nodded in agreement. "I think so too. The cotton candy perfectly hides your plastic nose."

Olivia's smile vanished, and she shot Emily a glare.

Emily maintained an innocent expression. "Why are you looking at me like that, Bella?"

Olivia wanted to lash out but ultimately held back, storming off in a huff.

Jessica chuckled. "Why do you keep provoking her? Do you enjoy it?"

Emily shrugged. "Yes."

Jessica shook her head, amused. Given how well the photos had turned out, Olivia had no real reason to complain.

**

Jessica was right. When the magazine was published, Olivia's cover became an instant hit, dominating social media and trending for days. The shot of Olivia with the cotton candy went viral, reaching audiences far beyond the fashion world.

The magazine also released behind-the-scenes footage of the shoot, but to everyone's surprise, it was Emily's brief appearance that caused the biggest stir online.

The internet exploded with comments:

"Is this really the photographer? She's gorgeous!"

"Of course, people who are better than me also look way better than me."

"I'm swooning over how cool she looks with that camera."

"She could easily model herself—so talented and beautiful."

"Her name is Alisa, and after reading her bio, my mom asked why I was kneeling while looking at my phone."

"Chairman Harrison, should we have these posts about Mrs. Harrison taken down?" Jason asked cautiously. Ethan had been staring at the news for a long time, his expression unreadable.

Emily's popularity had skyrocketed, with her name and face everywhere online. Despite being a public figure, Ethan had always valued his privacy, keeping a low profile. If he wanted something hidden, it stayed hidden.

Ethan didn't look up from the screen, where Emily's images looped endlessly. "No need," he finally said. Then, as an afterthought, "Is she still at Miss Jessica's place?"

"Yes," Jason confirmed.

Ethan ran a hand over his chin, his long fingers brushing against the stubble. It had been nearly ten days.

She had never stayed away this long before.

Pulling up his phone, Ethan checked the notifications. The secondary card she used for expenses hadn't registered any activity for thirteen days.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, frowning as he pondered the situation.

Why wasn't she spending his money anymore?

"Chairman Harrison," Jason interrupted his thoughts, handing over the schedule. "Please take a look."

Ethan scanned the document quickly until his eyes landed on the final entry.

Next Sunday was his grandfather's birthday banquet.

Old Mr.

Harrison's birthday was always a major family event, and this year, his eightieth, was especially significant. The entire Harrison family was expected to attend, including Ethan and his wife.

Ethan pushed the schedule aside and rubbed his temples in frustration.

What had she said before she left?

Oh, yes. Even if he begged her on his knees, she wouldn't come back.