The Aftermath

The world outside Emma's apartment kept turning.

But inside?

Everything had shifted.

She could still feel his lips on hers, the possessiveness in his touch, the way he had claimed her in front of everyone.

Alexander Westwood was a man who never lost.

And last night?

He had made sure she knew it.

Emma lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing in a hundred different directions.

What had she done?

What had he done?

And more importantly—

What happened next?

—

A Morning of Uncertainty

The next morning, Emma woke up with a headache and too many questions.

She turned her head to the side, expecting to find an empty space.

Instead—

A folded piece of paper lay on her pillow.

Her stomach tightened.

With hesitant fingers, she picked it up and unfolded it.

Be ready at 7.

—A

Emma's breath caught.

She reread the words, heart pounding.

Be ready for what?

And why did she feel like she had just walked into another one of his games?

—

An Unwelcome Interruption

By 6:45, Emma was pacing.

She told herself she wasn't waiting for him.

She told herself she didn't care what he wanted.

And yet, here she was—

Dressed in a sleek black dress, heels that made her feel dangerous, and a stubborn set to her jaw.

Then—a knock.

Emma froze.

Her pulse spiked.

She took a slow breath, smoothing her dress, before opening the door.

But it wasn't Alexander.

It was Victoria.

Emma's stomach dropped.

The other woman leaned against the doorway, her lips curling into a smirk.

"Going somewhere?" she asked sweetly.

Emma crossed her arms. "What do you want, Victoria?"

Victoria tilted her head.

"You really think this is going to last?" she murmured.

Emma stiffened.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Victoria laughed.

"Oh, sweetheart. Of course you do."

Her eyes gleamed.

"You think you're different. Special. That Alexander actually cares."

Emma's fingers curled into fists.

Victoria stepped closer.

"But let me tell you something, darling," she whispered. "Men like him don't change. And when he's done with you—"

She leaned in, voice like silk.

"—he'll throw you away, just like the rest of us."

Emma's breath caught.

Her stomach twisted.

And for the first time—

Doubt crept in.

—

An Offer She Can't Refuse

Before Emma could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

"Leave."

Victoria froze.

Emma turned—

And found Alexander standing in the doorway.

His expression was ice.

And his eyes?

Locked on Victoria.

The other woman lifted her chin.

"Alexander," she purred. "I was just having a friendly chat with your new toy."

Alexander's jaw tightened.

"Get out."

Victoria smirked.

But Emma saw it—

The flicker of something vulnerable in her eyes.

For a split second, she looked almost hurt.

Then—just as quickly—it was gone.

She turned on her heel and walked away.

Alexander watched her leave.

Then, without a word, he stepped inside and closed the door.

Emma exhaled sharply.

"That was—"

"A waste of your time," Alexander finished.

His eyes burned into hers.

"Don't listen to her, Emma."

Emma swallowed.

"But what if she's right?"

Alexander's lips pressed into a thin line.

Then, to her surprise—

He softened.

He stepped closer, his fingers grazing her arm.

"She's not," he murmured.

Emma's heart skipped.

"How do you know?" she whispered.

Alexander's gaze darkened.

"Because I don't want anyone else."

Emma's breath hitched.

Her world tilted.

And just like that—

She was falling again.

Helpless against him.

—

Dinner with a Devil

An hour later, Emma found herself seated across from Alexander in a private restaurant.

No cameras.

No distractions.

Just them.

The tension was thick.

Emma poked at her food. "Are you going to tell me why we're here?"

Alexander took a sip of his whiskey, watching her.

"You and I need to talk."

Emma exhaled. "About what?"

Alexander leaned forward, elbows on the table.

"You."

Emma's pulse skipped.

"You're making a mistake," she murmured.

Alexander tilted his head.

"Am I?"

Emma forced herself to hold his gaze.

"I'm not like the women you date."

Alexander's lips curved.

"Good."

Emma blinked.

"Good?"

Alexander smirked.

"If I wanted them, I wouldn't be here with you."

Emma's chest tightened.

She hated how easily he got under her skin.

How one sentence could shake her walls.

She cleared her throat.

"And what exactly do you want from me, Alexander?"

His expression darkened.

Then—

He leaned in.

So close she could feel his breath.

"You," he murmured.

Emma's heart stumbled.

She opened her mouth—to argue, to push him away—

But before she could—

His phone rang.

Alexander ignored it.

Emma raised an eyebrow.

"You should get that."

He sighed.

Then, with clear reluctance, he pulled out his phone.

His expression shifted.

His grip tightened.

Emma frowned. "What is it?"

Alexander's jaw clenched.

"I have to go."

Emma's stomach sank.

Of course.

Of course he had other priorities.

He always did.

She forced a smile.

"Right. Wouldn't want to keep your empire waiting."

Alexander's eyes flicked to hers.

For a second—just a second—he looked like he wanted to say something.

Then—

He stood.

Pressed a kiss to her forehead.

And left.

Leaving Emma alone—

Wondering if she had just made a mistake letting him in.

—

A Scandal in the Making

The next morning, Emma's phone exploded with notifications.

Her stomach tightened as she opened the first message.

It was a link.

She clicked.

And froze.

Because there, on the screen—

Was a photo of her and Alexander.

The kiss.

The one from the gala.

Captured.

Published.

And already going viral.

Emma's blood ran cold.

This was bad.

Very, very bad.

And the worst part?

It was just the beginning.