Patrick was staring at Emma as he sat cramped beside her in the back seat. Emma kept her face Pointed straight ahead, trying her best to appear unfazed, but the tension in
the air was impossible to ignore. The awkwardness between them was palpable—and William noticed it immediately.
To break the ice, William asked, "You two know each other?" as he placed a hand on Emma's leg.
Emma shot him an annoyed look but replied, "From work."Her answer overlapped with Patrick's, who said the same thing at the same time.
"Oh, I see…" William drawled, suspicion creeping into his tone. "How long?"
"Six years," Emma said quickly, her voice steady but clipped.
Patrick, however, interjected with a slight grin. "Actually, it's been longer than that. You were my probationary trainee, remember?"
Emma gave a curt nod, clearly not wanting to elaborate.
"First blood, huh?" William muttered, his tone darkening. "One of those things where I wasn't first, huh?" He shot Emma a pointed look.
Patrick, sensing the tension but misreading its source, chuckled. "Yeah, she passed the initiation rites with flying colors."
William ignored the joke and pressed on, his voice sharp. "So, you started in Finance?" He eyed Emma closely. "Why'd you end up in Marketing?"
The question hung in the air like a storm cloud. Emma froze, swallowing the
lump that had formed in her throat. The reason for her transfer came rushing
back, a memory she had tried desperately to forget.
~(flashback)~
It was at a corporate Christmas party years ago. Emma, freshly confirmed as a regular employee, was euphoric. It was her first big company celebration, and she had thrown herself into the festivities without restraint.
The drinks flowed freely that night, and Emma drank far more than she could handle. As the evening wore on, she became visibly unsteady, her laughter louder and steps wobblier. It was Patrick who noticed and decided to step in.
When Emma looked as if she might throw up, Patrick quickly led her to the nearest washroom, keeping her hair back as she emptied her stomach.
When she was finished, Emma, still dazed, stumbled back to thank him. But as she leaned forward, she tripped over her own feet and fell into him.
Her hair somehow got tangled in the buttons of his shirt, and they ended up in an incredibly awkward and compromising position. Emma was crouched low in
front of Patrick, struggling to free herself while Patrick fumbled to help.
From the outside, it looked... scandalous.
As they wrestled with her hair, the washroom door swung open. A group of colleagues walked in and froze, their eyes wide with shock.
Emma's face burned with embarrassment as one of them cleared their throat awkwardly.
"It's not what it looks like!" Patrick had blurted, but the damage was already done.
The incident became the talk of the office, exaggerated with every retelling. It didn't take long for HR to recommend Emma's transfer to another department—Marketing.
~(end of flashback)~
Back in the present, Emma felt her cheeks flush. She couldn't bring herself to look at either man in the car.
William noticed the shift in her demeanor, his curiosity piqued even further. Patrick, meanwhile, sat quietly, as if he too remembered the incident and had chosen not to dredge it up.
The rest of the car ride was filled with a tension so thick, it was almost suffocating.
When they reached the villa, Emma finally realized that Patrick was married to William's cousin. If William's cousin was Patrick's wife, that meant William was also related to the Caraways—the filthy rich family everyone knew about. That explained his extravagant lifestyle, something she'd only vaguely
questioned until now.
Standing at the entrance of the grand manor was a slim woman in a pristine sky-blue dress. None other than Evelyn Caraway, the renowned fashion icon. She
radiated elegance, her gaze sharp and appraising.
As the car came to a stop, William stepped out briskly while Patrick opened their side of the door. Without a glance back, Patrick strode toward Evelyn, William reach his hands over Emma as she goes out of the car.
Evelyn smirked as she walks towards them, with Patrick by her side, her eyes flicked from William to Emma. "Is this your date?" she asked, her voice smooth but edged with amusement.
"She isn't my date," William replied casually, placing an arm firmly around Emma's waist. "She's my future wife."
Evelyn chuckled, a sound that was equal parts amusement and disbelief. "As always…" she murmured before turning to Emma, extending her hand with a perfectly curated smile.
"Hi, I'm Evelyn. You can call me Eve."
Emma reached out to shake her hand, but Eve withdrew it almost immediately,
her fingers barely grazing Emma's. Emma blinked, taken aback, and shot a questioning glance at William, who simply shrugged as if to say, That's just Eve.
The three walked toward the entrance of the villa, and Emma couldn't help but take in her surroundings. The interior was breathtaking—marble floors that gleamed like mirrors, vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate chandeliers, and walls lined with priceless art. The dining room was even more stunning. A long, elegant table was set for a feast, with dishes arranged so perfectly it looked like a spread from a gourmet magazine.
When they reached the table, William introduced Emma to his father. She tilted her head, studying the man—there was something familiar about him. Then
William introduced her to his brother, who nodded politely. Emma still couldn't place them, but something nagged at her. Suddenly, a petite figure appeared beside William's brother.
"Nice to meet you! I'm Kimberly," the young woman said, extending her hand with a wide, almost childlike grin. "Let's be besties!"
Emma blinked. Kimberly looked barely 18, her youthful glow almost too much. For a brief moment, Emma wondered if she wa William's baby sister.
"She's my fiancée," William's brother announced, his voice matter-of-fact.
Emma's jaw nearly dropped. Fiancée?! She felt an unexpected pang of envy. Here she was, in her late twenties, just starting to figure things out, and this girl looked like she'd barely finished high school and was already
engaged.
Then it clicked. Emma's eyes widened as she suddenly recognized William's father and brother—they were the Chairman and CEO of her company. Her shock was written all over her face. She had no idea William was the son of the company's owners.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of another elegant woman, who entered the dining room with a graceful air. She kissed William's father on the cheek before her eyes landed on William. Her expression transformed into sheer joy.
"My baby boy!" she squealed, rushing over to William. He stood up, and she enveloped him in a tight hug. "How's my baby?"
Emma cringed inwardly. Baby? Seriously? She tried to stifle a laugh. This guy who is already making a baby with her and acting likr a rabbit in heat is a baby boy?What is he, a mama's boy?
The woman's attention then shifted to Emma, her sharp eyes scanning her from head to toe with the kind of scrutiny that made Emma feel like a stray dog that had wandered into a palace by mistake.
"And who's this?" she asked, her perfectly manicured finger pointing at Emma as if she were sizing up a questionable entrée on a menu.
"This is Emma, mother" William replied firmly, his tone leaving no room for debate. He glanced at Emma, subtly urging her to stand.
Emma rose to her feet, awkward but polite. "It's nice to meet you," she said, her voice steady despite the growing lump in her throat.
William didn't hesitate. "She's my girlfriend," he added, his arm brushing against Emma's as though to reassure her.
His mother's face fell instantly, her expression souring with the kind of disappointment usually reserved for discovering a stain on a designer dress.
"Oh, another one, huh?" she said, waving her hand dismissively as though Emma's presence were a fleeting inconvenience. She turned back to William, shushing him as though he were a child who'd just said something foolish.
Emma's mind whirled, her polite smile frozen in place as she sit back. What the actual f—