Chapter 11: A matter of honour2

"Alexander stared at Emily, he didn't know how to react to what she has just said he simply stared at the pale green eyes that was now staring into his, as if it were staring into his soul, what caused his whole suspicion in the first place and how they got here, finally leaving his own head Alexander was about to respond."

Before Alexander could respond, the door creaked open once more. Footsteps entered with a quiet urgency, and Andrew stepped into the room, slightly out of breath, eyes darting between Alexander and Emily.

"Sorry," he said, adjusting the sleeve of his jacket. "Alexander—it was me. I sent for her."

Emily blinked, her expression flickering with surprise.

Alexander turned to him slowly, his voice dangerously low. "You did what?"

Andrew stepped further into the room, shoulders squared but tone cautious. "We needed to have a conversation. All of us. About what happened—and what's going to happen next."

Just then, as if summoned by fate itself, footsteps echoed down the hall.

The door opened again.

Mr. and Mrs. Velmonte entered with the composed grace of people used to being in charge. Mrs. Velmonte's emerald dress shimmered faintly under the chandelier's light as she stepped in, her eyes landing on Emily first—sharp, calculating, but not unkind. Mr. Velmonte followed behind, his gaze sweeping the room with quiet authority.

The air shifted. What had been a private confrontation was now a family affair. A silent stage with every player taking their position.

Mrs. Velmonte paused beside her husband, folding her hands in front of her. "Well," she said, voice smooth as silk, "I see we're all gathered."

Emily felt the weight of their gazes—the scrutiny, the judgment—but she didn't flinch. She stood a little taller, folding her arms with casual confidence.

Mr. Velmonte looked at Alexander, then at Andrew. "You brought her here?"

"Yes, sir," Andrew replied, calm but firm. "I believe we should be speaking openly if this engagement is going to be used as a shield."

"A shield?" Mrs. Velmonte echoed, arching a brow. "Or a weapon?"

Alexander's jaw clenched, but he didn't speak. Not yet.

Emily, sensing the storm brewing, turned toward them. "Look, I don't know what you've heard, or what assumptions you've made about me," she said, her voice measured, "but I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask to be dragged into your family's storm."

Mrs. Velmonte took a slow step forward, her eyes never leaving Emily's face. "And yet, here you are."

"I'm here because your son's employees dragged me off the road," Emily said plainly. "But if you think I'm going to curl up and play the role of the trembling little scandal—"

Alexander raised a hand, silencing her. "Enough."

The room fell quiet again.

He turned to his parents. "This is my fault. I'll handle it."

"You've been handling it poorly," his father replied, voice heavy with restrained disapproval. "You brought this on yourself, and now we must deal with the consequences—together."

Andrew glanced at Emily, then back at the Velmontes. "Then let's talk. All of us. Because this… isn't going to go away by pretending it didn't happen."

Mrs. Velmonte moved to the nearest chair and sat with the elegance of a woman who knew how to command a room without raising her voice. She crossed her legs slowly, adjusted her diamond-studded bracelet, and looked up with a quiet smile that never quite reached her eyes.

"Very well," she said. "Let's talk."

Alexander remained standing, his posture straight and unreadable, arms folded across his chest. Emily glanced around, uncertain if she should sit or remain where she stood. Andrew gave her a subtle nod, so she took a seat across from the Velmontes, her back straight, hands on her laps.

Mr. Velmonte was the first to break the silence.

"Miss Emily," he began, his tone formal but not unkind, "we are not unreasonable people. But this situation… it threatens to undo years of careful reputation-building. Not just for Alexander, but for this family. Do you understand the gravity of what has happened?"

Emily met his gaze. "I understand that something looked bad. But it wasn't what they thought it was. Your son didn't trying to take advantage of me neither did I try to seduce your son. I tripped. He caught me. People walked in. That's all."

Mrs. Velmonte gave a soft, almost amused chuckle. "And yet the entire board of Velmonte Technologies is buzzing with your name. The media is still picking at this like vultures at a fresh kill. If it was just a fall, why are we here?"

"Because someone took a photo," Alexander said coldly. "And they wanted to believe the worst."

"Someone?" Mr. Velmonte turned to his son. "Do you have any idea who?"

Alexander didn't answer.

Andrew cleared his throat. "It doesn't matter who took it. What matters is how we handle it. The image is already out there. What the public believes is more powerful than the truth at this point."

Mrs. Velmonte nodded slowly, folding her hands. "That's why we suggested the engagement be made public. To reshape the narrative."

Emily's brows shot up. "So you want me to pretend to be engaged? To a man who doesn't like me, barely knows me, whose parents think I'm a threat and who is also my boss?"

Mr. Velmonte raised a brow. "Would you rather the media label you as a seductress who slept her way into Velmonte Technologies?"

Emily froze. The harshness of the words hit harder than she expected.

Alexander's voice cut in, softer now. "Emily… I understand how this sounds. But this isn't about feelings. It's about control. We can't control what happened, but we can control what people think happened."

"And what happens when they start digging into my past?" Emily asked quietly, her gaze flickering to Alexander. "What if they find something I don't want them to?" Emily knew saying this will make Alexander more suspicious of her and this is exactly what she wanted at least for now.

There was a pause. One that lasted a second too long.

Alexander stared at her for a moment, something unspoken passing between them. "Then we'll clean it up before they do."

Emily leaned back in her chair, slowly. "You make it sound like I have no choice."

Mrs. Velmonte offered a smile. "You have a choice. You can walk away—and deal with the consequences alone. Or… you can walk with us. And we'll make sure you come out of this unscathed."

Andrew frowned. "You're asking her to lie to the world."

"No," Mr. Velmonte said. "We're asking her to survive it."

Emily looked down at her hands, her fingers lightly tracing a small scar on her palm. Then she raised her chin and looked around the room—at the man who'd caused the mess, the parents who wanted to package it, and the friend who tried to soften it.

Then, with a calmness that surprised even her, she said, "Fine. I'll play along. But if I'm going to be dragged into this family's performance, I get a say in my lines."

Mrs. Velmonte's smile deepened, this time with a hint of respect. "Fair enough."

Alexander finally sat, for the first time since the conversation began. He ran a hand through his dark hair and let out a slow breath. "We'll announce the engagement by the end of the week. Keep it quiet until then. No interviews. No photos."

"And what about the office?" Emily asked.

"I'll handle it," Alexander said simply. "You'll keep your head down. And I'll make sure no one crosses the line again."

Andrew stood. "And if anyone asks?"

"We say it's private. And we let them wonder."

Just as the conversation seemed to settle into some uneasy agreement, Mrs. Velmonte leaned forward, her voice smooth, yet probing.

"And what about your family, dear? Who are they?"

Emily's breath caught. She hadn't expected that question so soon, though she should have. She slowly bowed her head, her voice quiet but firm. "My parents are dead."

The room stilled.

Even the faint ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner seemed to hush for a beat.

"I have brought myself up," Emily continued, not raising her head. "Before you ask—no siblings. No relatives. Everyone abandoned me after my parents passed away. I've had no one for years."

A silence fell again, heavier this time. Andrew shifted slightly in his seat, eyes fixed on the marble-tiled floor. Alexander remained still, watching her with a stare that gave nothing away, but his jaw tightened—just a little.

It was Mrs. Velmonte who finally broke the silence. She let out a sigh that was more exasperation than sympathy and muttered under her breath, "Well, like it isn't enough that this whole incident had to happen… now a girl with no name."

Emily raised her eyes, her face calm, but her fingers dug lightly into the fabric of her dress.

Mr. Velmonte nodded slowly, arms crossed over his chest. "At least she'll make us look good in front of the press. They eat up those rags-to-riches stories."

But Mrs. Velmonte wasn't finished. "Oh yes," she said, voice laced with distaste. "We'll look like we're reaching across class lines. Like we're equals with the lower class. That'll be the headline—Velmonte heir engaged to orphan girl with no background. Perfect."

Emily's eyes flashed for the briefest second. She said nothing, her face still soft, still unreadable, but there was steel behind the silence. Her acting was perfect—subtle, gentle, wide-eyed innocence wrapped in quiet dignity. Not defiance, not pride. Just… stillness.

Mrs. Velmonte was about to speak again, but Alexander's voice cut through the room like a blade.

"Stop," he said.

It wasn't loud, but it landed hard. Sharp enough to silence his mother, pointed enough to command the attention of everyone present.

"That's enough already."

His eyes flicked to Emily, and something shifted in his gaze. Perhaps it was guilt. Perhaps it was irritation. Or perhaps—just for a second—it was something softer.

Mrs. Velmonte pursed her lips but said nothing further. Mr. Velmonte gave a short sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Emily kept her expression composed, letting her features fold into something soft and hurt. She was executing the innocent act flawlessly—her brows drawn in ever so slightly, her lips parted just enough to appear fragile, vulnerable, maybe even embarrassed. But inside, her thoughts were moving quickly.

So this is the Velmonte family… she thought. Polished, perfect, and proud. But cracked beneath the gold.

"I think this meeting is over," Alexander said after a pause. He stood, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I'll speak to the PR team. Andrew, make sure the office gets the revised internal memo."

Andrew gave a short nod. "Yes, sir."

Mrs. Velmonte stood with a smooth motion and turned to Emily with a too-bright smile. "We'll have to schedule a fitting soon. If you're to be engaged to my son, you'll need the right clothes. And the right jewelry."

Emily gave a quiet nod. "Of course, ma'am."

Mr. Velmonte gave Emily a long look—less judgmental than before, but still distant. "You'll be hearing from our lawyers. This arrangement will be… structured."

"I understand," Emily replied.

As the Velmonte parents exited the room, their designer shoes tapping against the marble, Andrew approached Emily and whispered, "You handled that better than I expected."

Emily looked up at him and smiled faintly. "I've been surviving people like them my whole life."

Alexander was still by the window, watching the last rays of light slip past the horizon.

"I'll have someone take you home," he said without looking at her. "Don't come to the office tomorrow. I'll handle the rest."

Emily hesitated for a moment. "You're not worried I'll run off?"

Alexander finally turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "No. You're smarter than that."

Emily gave a soft, almost amused smile. "You think you know me already."

"I don't," he said. "But I will."

Alexander opened the car door for her like a gentleman—though Emily suspected it was less about courtesy and more about control. She stepped in without looking at him, her jaw tight. She slid across the leather seat and stared out the opposite window, arms folded.

To her surprise, Alexander slid in after her, shutting the door with a sharp click before speaking a single word.

"Drive."

The silence inside the car stretched thin, like glass waiting to crack. The city lights slipped past them in flashes of amber and silver. Neither spoke. Emily didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was thinking about him—about what had just happened. And Alexander, as always, seemed content to let silence do the talking.

It wasn't until they were approaching her street that she broke it.

"How do you know where I live?"

Alexander didn't glance her way. "Remember, Emily… I'm your boss."

In her mind, Emily rolled her eyes. Sure you are, she thought.

The car slowed to a halt just outside her home. It wasn't an apartment—but a small, aged duplex that looked like it had stood through storms, wars, and time itself. The kind of house that carried stories in its walls, surviving everything that had been thrown at it. Quiet. Humble. But still standing. Both of their gazes—once fixed in opposite directions—shifted, almost in sync, until they finally faced each other.

There was a long pause, electricity hanging in the air.

Then Emily spoke, her voice steady but tinged with frustration. "This is all your fault, you know."

Alexander's brows lifted slightly, the subtle change in his expression saying how dare she. But Emily didn't stop.

"If not for your animalistic behavior, I wouldn't be in this position. I would have just been working at your company, making a name for myself, building a career."

She didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to. Her words carried weight, sharp like broken glass in soft hands.

Alexander stared at her, unreadable as ever.

"Are you done?" he finally said, voice cool and slow. "If what you're fishing for is an apology, Miss Emily, you won't get one."

He shifted slightly, straightening his jacket.

"In fact, I should be the one getting appreciated. Now you get to be more than just a researcher. You get to be married to me—Alexander Velmonte."

Emily blinked. Her brain had heard it, but her pride didn't want to register it.

She stared at him for a long moment. Then her lips parted, her voice low.

"You really are full of yourself."

He tilted his head, amused by her defiance.

But then she said it—before she could stop herself.

"Please," she scoffed, "we both know if not for their useless sons, the Velmontes wouldn't have noticed you. You were just… convenient. A convenient replacement."

The words hung in the air like a slap.

Alexander's gaze darkened instantly, the muscle in his jaw flexing. Emily saw it too late—what she'd just said. The emotion behind her words had slipped past the mask, and now it was too late to pull them back.

She swallowed hard. Shit.

Without waiting for his response, she pushed the door open.

"I'll see myself out," she muttered.

She stepped out, gripping her bag tightly as she shut the door behind her.

Inside the car, Alexander sat still for a moment, one hand resting on the door handle. His gaze was distant now, unfocused—not angry, not amused. Just… thinking.

When the driver looked at him through the rear-view mirror, waiting for instructions, Alexander finally spoke.

"This is a matter of Velmonte honor," he said softly. "Hers. And mine."

Even as he said it, the words felt strange in his mouth.

Velmonte honor.

He'd repeated it so many times throughout his life. Said it to the board, to the press, to strangers. Said it to himself, when no one else believed in him.

But he had never truly believed it—not deep down.

As the car pulled away, Emily stood there on the sidewalk, arms wrapped around herself.

She watched the tail lights fade into the distance, the night now still and strangely heavy. A sigh escaped her lips.

Her heart was still pounding—not just from what she said, but from the look in Alexander's eyes before she walked away.

Not fury. Not pride.

But something much harder to read.

Something dangerous.