Emily

Assured that what happened remains between us, I tightened the robe around me and slipped out of the room, scanning the hallway for movements, I walked as fast as I could down the long corridor, all the rooms had the same doors, no wonder I went into the wrong room.

I tried to remember which room the the maid had taken my luggage to.

I couldn't

I could only guess.

The only main room on this floor other than Adrian's was Nathan's.

Others were guest rooms

Trying my luck, I open the first guest room beside Nathan's slightly, peeking inside.

It was empty.

I sighed in relief and slipped into the room, closing the door behind me.

At a corner of the room was my luggage.

Perfect, I'm in the right room.

It made sense though, placing my luggage in the room beside my fiancé's.

I looked around the room.

A modest bed, neutral walls, a single window letting in soft morning light.

Nice for a guest room.

The bathroom was small but functional. I turned on the shower and let the warm water hit my skin, letting the liquid run over me as though it could wash away my mistakes.

Then I noticed the marks.

I froze, gripping the edge of the tub. The evidence was everywhere: the faint, angry blush on my neck, the lingering traces on my shoulders, and the subtle hints along my chest.

How am I going to hide these?

I closed my eyes. I could think of scarves, high collars, turtlenecks—but this was summer, and the house was hot with sunlight pouring in. I could feel my pulse spike with panic.

I scrubbed at the marks under the hot water, but I knew it was pointless. They were still there, and worse, they were visible. The thought of the marks being seen, made my stomach knot.

I finished the shower quickly, letting the towel wrap around me tightly, pressing it to my body as though that could erase my worry.

The first thing I did after drying off was press the call button on the nightstand. My voice, when I asked for help, had to sound casual, distant—innocent.

“I’m feeling a bit chilly,” I told the maid when she answered.

“Could you bring me some clothes? Something long-sleeved… and perhaps a scarf or something to cover my neck?”

“Of course, Miss Emily. I’ll bring them immediately.”

I waited, pretending to read a book that wasn’t open, my mind racing. I didn’t want the Carter's—or anyone else—to see me like this, vulnerable, exposed.

Moments later, a soft knock echoed at the door. I peeked out just enough to see the maid place a folded set of clothes on the floor. My hands itched to snatch them immediately, but I stayed still until she left.

Once the door clicked shut, I moved fast, grabbing the clothes and scanning for the scarf—or high-necked blouse—that could hide the marks on my skin. I clutched it to my chest and let out a quiet, relieved sigh.

Safe. For now.

I dressed quickly, slipping into the long sleeves, letting the soft fabric shield my neck, chest, and shoulders. I checked myself in the mirror and tried not to panic at the subtle shadows of the hickeys. They were faint, but they were there.

I need to figure out a plan.

I made sure the room looked a little disorganized, as if I had just woken up normally.

The bell rang a short while later, and a second maid knocked politely.

“Miss Emily, breakfast is ready downstairs,” she said, her voice neutral. “The family would like you to join them.”

I nodded, keeping my composure. “Thank you. I’ll be down shortly.”

She left, and I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the bed for a moment. My pulse was still racing, and the events of last night felt surreal in the bright morning light.

As I made my way downstairs, each step felt heavier than the last. Every corner, every doorway seemed alive with possibility. What if someone noticed my neck? What if Nathan—God forbid—looked too closely?

I tried to calm myself with shallow breaths, keeping my hands lightly crossed over my chest. The scarf was a good cover. Long sleeves hid my shoulders. No one could see the evidence, but the knowledge of it pressed on me like a weight.

Breakfast was already in motion when I entered.

The long dining table gleamed beneath the morning light, silverware aligned with surgical precision. Freshly brewed coffee, buttered pastries, sliced fruit arranged like artwork. The Carters moved with the kind of effortless composure that came from generations of wealth.

Nathan was already seated, looking annoyingly composed. I know he didn't care, but part of me couldn’t stop the occasional flicker of guilt—or thrill—at last night.

He looked up first, smiling— a smile that obviously didn't reach his heart.

“Good morning, Emily. Sleep well?”

My fingers tightened subtly around the fabric at my neck.

“Yes,”

I slid into my chair, keeping my scarf tight, my posture deliberate. The mysterious man was nowhere to be seen, and a tiny part of me was grateful. Maybe he'd stay upstairs and spare me the unsettling feeling of his pressing gaze

Breakfast passed in a flurry of polite conversation. The Carters were warm but distant, like people who treated interactions as carefully choreographed dances. I kept my eyes mostly on my plate, speaking only when addressed.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a subtle shift in the room. Someone had arrived, I looked up, it was the mysterious man, moving slowly, purposefully, like he owned every step he took. He didn’t speak. He simply looked at me, his eyes flickering briefly to Nathan beside me.

He looked amused.

I turned slightly toward Nathan, keeping my voice soft. Casual.

“Who is that?”

Nathan glanced up, as if the answer were obvious.

“Oh. That’s my uncle.”

Uncle.

The word hit like ice water.

Nathan continued, oblivious to the way my pulse spiked.

“Adrian Carter. He doesn’t stay here often. He runs most of the Carter Group now.”

My heart stopped.

Adrian Carter.

Uncle.

Carter Group.

The man from last night.

The man whose marks were still burning beneath my clothes.

Adrian’s gaze never left me as he approached the table. Slowly. Deliberately.

He took the seat at the very edge — not at the head— but positioned in a way that allowed him to see everything.

Especially me.

A faint smirk touched his lips.

I felt exposed.

Nathan leaned slightly toward me, lowering his voice.

“Just a warning,” he murmured. “Don’t cross him.”

I swallowed.

“He may be my uncle, but he’s the real power behind the Carter Group. My father listens to him. Everyone does.”

I could barely hear him over the roaring in my ears.

Don’t cross him.

Too late.

I had crossed him.

In more ways than one.

Adrian picked up his coffee cup, his movements unhurried. Calculated. He didn’t greet me. Didn’t acknowledge last night.

But his eyes did.

They traced the scarf at my neck.

I forced myself to lift my cup, though my hands felt unsteady. If anyone noticed, they said nothing.

“Emily,” Mrs Carter said pleasantly, “I hope you’re settling in comfortably.”

“Yes,” I answered, somehow managing composure. “Everyone has been very kind.”

Adrian’s thumb brushed the rim of his cup.

Kind.

His lips curved slightly, as if he found that amusing.

"They should be" Nathan's mom continued, patting my hands from across the table, "you'll soon be the young madam of the family, they shouldn't just be kind, they should also show respect"

Nathan's dad laughed at her words, I didn't know what about it was funny.

I kept my eyes on my plate, but I could feel him — the weight of him — like a hand at the back of my neck.

Nathan resumed casual conversation, unaware of the silent war unfolding across the table.

Unaware that the man he admired, respected — feared — had pressed me against cold sheets hours ago.

Unaware that I now understood exactly why everyone in this house moved carefully when Adrian Carter entered a room.

Power.

It radiated off him.

And I had walked straight into it.

My pulse thudded against the marks hidden beneath silk and fabric.

Don’t cross him.

I hadn’t just crossed him.

I had let him cross me.

And the worst part?

When our eyes locked again — just for a second — I felt that same pull.

Dangerous.

Magnetic.

I looked away first.

But he smiled.

Emily

Nathan’s father cleared his throat, studying Adrian with an amused expression. “Breakfast with us, Adrian? Well, I suppose the sun does rise in the east after all,” he joked lightly, the corners of his mouth twitching.

I forced a polite smile. Adrian, of course, didn’t flinch. He simply leaned back slightly in his chair, one hand resting on the polished wood, the other clasped loosely in front of him. His dark eyes landed on me for a brief second, making the air between us suddenly heavier.

I had to look away. Fast.

“Time’s on my side today,” he said casually, voice calm but deliberate. His gaze lingered long enough to make me swallow hard and avert my eyes completely to my plate.

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and I tried not to tremble, tried not to think about last night. Every instinct in me screamed to run, to hide. Instead, I forced my posture straight, my expression composed, my movements careful.

Nathan’s mother, on the other hand, had the uncanny ability to notice everything. “And how was your night, Emily?” she asked sweetly, though there was a faint teasing in her tone.

I tensed immediately, aware of Adrian’s subtle smirk as he shifted slightly in his seat. God, I thought. Does he always have to make me feel exposed?

“It… was fine,” I replied carefully, keeping my voice steady, giving no hint of the storm beneath my calm exterior.

Her gaze softened, an amused glint in her eyes, but she wasn’t done. She reached into a small velvet pouch and drew out a delicate jade bracelet, holding it out to me.

“It’s customary,” she said gently. “A gift from the family.”

I froze. My hand hovered over the bracelet, but I couldn’t take it. The guilt of last night weighed heavily, coiling in my stomach like a living thing. My fingers trembled, and I shook my head faintly.

“I… I can’t,” I said quietly.

Her brow furrowed, but her voice remained calm. “Emily, it’s just a token. Please.”

I shook my head again, refusing. The weight of Adrian’s presence was a magnet; I felt his eyes on me, watching, judging, waiting. I couldn’t let myself be manipulated—or worse, made to feel complicit.

Nathan’s mother tried again, gently sliding the bracelet toward my wrists. “Don’t be stubborn, dear. You’ll wear it for a reason soon.”

I hesitated. My throat felt tight.

Then Adrian spoke, the sound of his voice silenced the room. “She shouldn’t be forced. There’s no rush. It’s not too late to give her this after the wedding.”

My chest heaved with a quiet sigh of relief. The tension that had been wrapping itself around my nerves began to ease, just slightly. Nathan’s mother looked like she wanted to protest, but finally, she nodded, conceding with a faint smile.

I exhaled, letting the tension in my shoulders go, thankful for Adrian’s intervention. I know it wasn't out of good will, but I was thankful nonetheless.

Adrian remained at table for a few more moments, calm, composed, eyes occasionally flicking to me, it kept me on the edge.

Finally, he stood, the sound of his movements drawing every eye to him. He adjusted his suit with a precision that reminded me, again, just how effortlessly commanding he was. Every motion was deliberate, purposeful, like the room itself bent to his presence.

“I have to leave for work,” he said simply, his voice low but carrying that weight that made it impossible to ignore. He didn’t look at me any longer than necessary, but I felt the tension linger in the air even after he excused himself. I sighed in relief.

I thought I could easily shake him off, that's why I stupidly suggested being with him in secret, but now, it didn't seem like I'd be able to shake him off anytime soon, I'd just play along and hope he gets tired of me soon, before whatever was about to start between us blows up in our face.

Breakfast continued, but Adrian’s absence left an odd void. The energy of the room shifted—slightly lighter, yet still charged, like a storm that had passed but left static in the air.

Nathan’s mother, never one to let silence go unfilled, leaned forward with a gentle smile. “Emily, once you’ve finished breakfast, I’d love for you to come down to the garden with me. The morning light is perfect, and it’s a good chance to relax before the day begins.”

I nodded politely, careful not to reveal how much my pulse still raced. The scarf around my neck and the long sleeves of my blouse kept the marks from last night hidden, but I couldn’t shake the lingering awareness of him—his presence, his gaze, the faint smirk that still haunted the corners of my mind.

Nathan’s father chuckled softly, reaching for his coffee. “A good idea. The garden could use some company, and the day will only get busier.”

I followed Nathan’s mother through the polished hallways, my steps light but measured. Each moment away from the table gave me a little more control over myself, a chance to steady my racing heart.

The garden was just as exquisite as I imagined it would be: neatly manicured paths, flowerbeds bursting with blooms, and sunlight streaming over the morning dew. I breathed in the scent of jasmine and rose, letting it calm me slightly.

Nathan’s mother gestured toward a shaded bench near a small fountain. “Sit, dear. It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?”

I lowered myself onto the bench, keeping my posture straight, hands folded in my lap. I tried to focus on the delicate trickle of water from the fountain, on the warmth of the sun against my skin, and not on the faint, undeniable pull I still felt from Adrian’s absence.

“Breakfast was lovely,” she said gently, placing a cup of tea in front of me. Her tone was soft, but there was a subtle curiosity in her eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

I tensed, she seemed oddly interested in how I spent my night.

I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. “Yes, thank you. The house is very… comfortable.”

She smiled, seemingly satisfied, and we settled into quiet conversation about lighter topics—the garden, plans for the day, distant family events. But beneath it all, I could feel the remnants of last night pressing at the edges of my mind.

I have to be careful, I reminded myself. Every word, every movement… it matters.

The garden was serene, but I couldn't relax. I sipped my tea, pretending to listen to Nathan’s mother while mentally rehearsing ways to maintain control over my emotions, over my body, over what little autonomy I still possessed.

For a moment, I let myself breathe. Let myself pretend that things were normal. The sun was warm. The garden smelled sweet. And for just a heartbeat, I allowed myself to imagine a world where nothing had changed, where Adrian’s gaze didn’t linger in my mind, where I could just be Emily—polite, composed, and in control.

But even as the thought passed, I knew it was fleeting. Adrian had already claimed a part of me, one I didn’t even know I could surrender. And no garden, no polite conversation, no morning sunlight could erase that.

I took another sip of tea, letting the liquid steady me. I would survive this morning. I would navigate this family. I would play my part. But deep down, I knew… everything had changed, and there was no going back.

Emily

The day passed in a haze of polite conversation, carefully curated activities, and subtle tension. I had spent the hours after breakfast wandering the Carter estate under Nathan’s mother’s guidance, helping in the garden, attending to small family errands, and sharing tea with Nathan’s parents.

I tried to stay composed, engaging only when necessary, smiling politely, nodding in agreement, and responding in measured tones. Yet, every laugh or gesture felt dampened by a lingering awareness of what had happened the night before.

Lunch was quiet, a meal filled with carefully selected topics: minor family events, distant relatives, and the occasional gentle tease about my engagement. Nathan was easy enough, keeping his tone distant yet polite. He seemed relieved to let the morning pass without the weight of pretense, giving me room to navigate my own thoughts.

The afternoon dragged, slow but intentionally pleasant. Nathan’s mother insisted we spend some time in the drawing room, and I complied, hiding my tension beneath polite smiles as she recounted old family anecdotes and history. The jade bracelet I had refused earlier lay untouched in her hand, a silent reminder of yesterday’s events and the small victories I had claimed in maintaining control.

By early evening, shadows had begun to stretch across the manicured lawns, and I felt the first stirrings of anticipation. The day had been long, and as much as I had enjoyed—or tolerated—the polite distractions, I longed for a moment of solitude.

It was at that moment Adrian returned.

The sound of the front doors opening caught my attention before I could fully process it. Nathan, sitting near the window, perked up instinctively, his polite demeanor stiffening.

I turned just in time to see Adrian enter, immaculate in his tailored suit, hair perfectly in place, and that impossible air of control radiating around him. My stomach constricted in a mixture of anticipation and nerves. I had spent hours managing myself, keeping my mind occupied, and yet just seeing him made everything else fade into the background.

Adrian’s gaze swept the room, pausing for a moment on me, and I felt my pulse accelerate. There was a faint curve of a smirk on his lips, just enough to suggest he knew exactly what he did to me, and the effect it had.

“Emily,” he greeted, his voice calm but deliberate, smooth like silk sliding across steel.

"Do you plan to stay the night again?" There was a glint in his eyes, he was teasing me.

"No..no... Uhm... I should get going." I stammered.

God

Breathe, Emily.

Breathe.

A maid came down with my bags a moment later and I almost snatched it from her.

"I'll drop you off," Nathan offered.

"Don't worry," Adrian replied, taking my bags from me, " It's on my way, I'll take her home"

Nathan’s expression shifted from polite concern to eager relief. “I… I suppose I’ll let you escort her, uncle,” he said quickly, attempting casual nonchalance. “Thanks.”

Adrian inclined his head, a subtle acknowledgment, but his dark gaze didn’t leave me. Nathan stood, bowed slightly, and muttered his thanks again before leaving the room without another word.

I watched him go, feeling a pang of something I couldn’t quite identify—relief, maybe, or frustration that Nathan didn’t have the same intensity Adrian did. I quickly focused back on Adrian.

“let's go” he said, turning with effortless authority.

I followed him, keeping pace, careful not to reveal the tumultuous mix of nerves and anticipation coiling in my stomach. Every movement he made, every step, was precise, measured, like a predator moving through familiar territory.

When we reached his car, I hesitated briefly, aware of the intensity that always seemed to radiate from him. He opened the door for me, his presence lingering close, almost magnetic, as I stepped inside.

The car started smoothly, the subtle hum of the engine filling the quiet space. For a long moment, neither of us spoke. I kept my hands folded neatly in my lap, trying to maintain composure while my mind buzzed with awareness of Adrian’s presence beside me.

Finally, I spoke, trying to suppress my anger and panic "Uncle?"

“I missed you.” He replied

I froze, surprised. “Missed me?” My voice came out quieter than intended, tinged with confusion. “It hasn’t even been—what—twenty-four hours? And what does that have to do with the situation, I just asked a question"

He turned to glance at me, dark eyes intent, unwavering. “I don’t care about the hours. I missed you. Does being his Uncle mean I can't miss you?”

"Being his Uncle, mean we can't be in bed together, I'd thought you're a friend on maybe a business partner of the Carter's at worst" I turned to him, folding my hands under my bossom, "But an 'Uncle'? That's family, and a whole generation of difference at that"

"We can't be together" I concluded, My eyes on him.

He simply watched me, amusement in his eyes before I could process, his lips met mine, slow and deliberate, pressing against mine with a confidence that left me breathless. I tried to resist, pushing against him, but that only deepened the kiss, his fingers brushing subtly against mine, holding, teasing, demanding at once. My pulse raced, heart pounding in my ears. The subtle weight of the seat beneath me, the closeness, the smell of him, all collided in a rush of tension I couldn’t ignore.

"Are you ok?" He asked.

I looked back at him in confusion.

"Down there" he muttered, his eyes darting downwards, "Are you still...?"

I flushed, his assistant was still in the car, what was he thinking?

"We can't do it here" I whispered, my eyes darting towards his assistant in the driver's seat.

"Don't worry, he won't hear us."

"But... Still..."

"Get out!" I froze in shock.

The assistant parked somewhere safe and private and exited.

I knew it, he could her us.

I glared at the man beside me.

My reputation was perfectly ruined.

"So...are you better now?"

I sighed, glaring at him.

“I… I’m better,” I murmured after a moment.

He smirked, a dangerous curve of his lips that made my chest ache. “Good. Then there’s no excuse.”

I pressed my lips together, trying to steady my breath, trying to keep some semblance of composure.

But his lips were on mine again, hungrier, faster, his hands tracing line of my body as his lips followed suit.

The car was shaking aggressively now and I could only imagine what the poor assistant thought of us.

When the assistant returned to the car, I couldn't look at him.

I was a mess, I straightened my hair as much as I could and smoothened the creases on my dress.

Adrian's eyes were still on me, but I was too exhausted to care.

The car continued to hum down the road and I rested my head against the seat, watching the vehicles moving and the city as I dozed off, my questions forgotten.

I felt the car come to a halt, and I opened my eyes.

I was home.

My head was on Adrian's shoulder.

I straightened, my neck a little stiff from the posture is slept in.

"Thank you for the ride" I moved to open the door, but he dragged me back, placing a chaste kiss on my lips, "Goodnight."

I blushed.

"Good night"

But the night was going to be anything but good.