
“Emilia Harvey! You’re married and have kids, and you’re still messing around with me? What do you take me for?”
“The whole town knows I’m yours now. If you don’t want me, I might as well be dead.”
The man’s eyes were red, his voice trembling, like he might crack at any second.
Seeing someone this beautiful cry would soften anyone’s heart.
Especially since Emilia had lost her memory three years ago, and Zahir Willis had been the one to save her. This little trick of his always worked. Whenever he wanted something, he’d look at her with those tear-filled eyes, as if she were some heartless seductress.
And she fell for it every single time.
Though she and Zahir weren’t legally married, their cultural marriage customs were unique—everyone knew they were bound in a traditional union. Emilia was Zahir’s Ashar.
Life had been sweet. Zahir was obedient and gentle during the day, wild at night. Emilia genuinely loved it.
But the peace shattered when a woman claiming to be her assistant, Milana, came looking for her. Milana told Emilia that back in Washington, she had a husband who’d waited three years for her—and a set of three-year-old twins.
Emilia was shocked, curious, and felt a twinge of guilt.
Was this bigamy?
Regardless, even if she didn’t remember her past, it felt right—emotionally and logically—to go check it out.
After hearing the news, Zahir showed up late at night, blocking her in the conservatory, tears brimming in his eyes.
Emilia had no choice but to wrap her arms around his slim waist, stand on her tiptoes, and gently wipe his tears as she coaxed him:
“Don’t cry. I don’t remember the past. How could I have deceived you on purpose?”
“Besides, all I remember now is you. I barely have enough time to love you—why would I leave you?”
Zahir seemed reassured. He hugged her back, resting his forehead against hers. His long lashes trembled as he spoke in a muffled voice:
“But you have a legal certificate with him. Legally, you’re a couple… So what does that make me? Just your secret?”
“I heard your husband is now the CEO of Harvey Corporation. If you go back, will you even remember me—your penniless lover?”
Zahir’s voice dripped with bitterness, his words growing more plaintive, clearly playing the wounded lover.
Emilia chuckled, pushing him away playfully, teasing:
“Legally, he’s just a husband on paper.”
“Emilia!!!”
Zahir’s eyes went red again, and he looked ready to cry.
Emilia quickly cradled his face, kissing him gently:
“Okay, okay, I’m teasing. Don’t be upset.”
As she spoke, she pinched his cheek:
“I have my reasons for going back. Now that things have happened, they need to be handled. Wait for me—I’ll come get you.”
“Get me? Are you going to divorce him when you get back?” Zahir’s eyes lit up.
“Yes…”
If there was no love, the marriage would have to end.
After all, Milana had told Emilia that the Harvey family business was passed down through the women, with their husbands marrying into the family. Her husband was Joseph Cook—an illegitimate son of the Cook Corporation. No power, no influence, but handsome enough to catch her past self’s eye and join the family.
Emilia didn’t doubt that. She definitely had a weakness for gorgeous men.
Three years ago, on the day she got her marriage certificate, she went on a business trip to the countryside, accidentally fell off a cliff, and vanished.
Within a year of her disappearance, her husband Joseph showed up in the public eye with a pair of twins, claiming they were hers. With the kids’ help, he gained her mother’s support and temporarily took the CEO seat of Harvey Corporation.
Everything was way too coincidental.
She just gets the certificate, and then she has an accident?
She just has an accident, and suddenly two kids pop out of nowhere?
And she’d been missing for three years—those kids were also three. Where did they come from?
The most damning part? Joseph ended up being the one who benefited…
There had to be more to this story, and Emilia didn’t buy it for a second.
Her belongings could be given away, but she wouldn’t be played for a fool.
With Emilia’s confirmation, Zahir was overjoyed.
His charming eyes curved into crescents, shimmering with watery light, locked intently on Emilia.
She felt his grip on her waist tighten as he leaned into her neck, his breath soft:
“Emilia, are you really not going to take me with you?”
“The situation in Washington is unclear. It might be dangerous for you.”
Emilia pressed a finger against Zahir’s chest, feeling the ridiculously warm heat beneath his thin white shirt.
“Oh…”
Zahir let out a disappointed sigh.
Then he took Emilia’s hand and pressed it to his cheek, nuzzling into her palm like a puppy.
His captivating eyes met hers, his voice as alluring as a forest spirit’s:
“Emilia, I don’t know how long you’ll be gone. To keep you from being tempted by any outside influences, I need to make sure you won’t forget about me…”
“Hey? What are you—”
Emilia knew exactly what he meant the moment he spoke, and she tried to slip away.
Zahir quickly caught her wrist, pulled her into his embrace, and sealed her lips with his own…
“Emilia, don’t cry. It’ll be over soon.”
“Just hold on a little longer…”
“Emilia…”
The wooden house swayed gently in the night, creaking in rhythm.
—
Washington Dulles International Airport.
Emilia and Milana had just disembarked when Milana, familiar with the routine, handed Emilia a tablet, introducing the Harvey family members one by one.
Emilia wore sunglasses, listening intently—or at least pretending to, because she wasn’t really paying attention and bumped straight into a human wall.
“Sorry, I wasn’t—”
Emilia quickly stepped back, pulling off her sunglasses to apologize to the person in front of her.
But as she spoke, the words died in her throat. She was stunned by the man’s face.
The man wore a perfectly tailored dark shirt, a red armband tight around his biceps, making his muscles look even more defined.
Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs—paired with that cool, aloof face, sharp and restrained.
“Joseph… Cook?”
Emilia blurted out.
In person, he was far more attractive than in photos.
She hadn’t expected to run into her nominal husband so soon.
Joseph nodded slightly, pushing up the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose, his voice utterly flat:
“Yes. Dad sent me to pick you up. Let’s head back.”
He walked over and took the suitcase from Emilia’s hand.
His cold fingertips grazed her hand, and she instinctively recoiled.
His body temperature was as icy as a soulless machine.
Emilia looked away, watching Joseph’s long strides as he walked off. She turned to Milana and said:
“Now I get why I chose him as my husband.”
With a face like that, he was on par with Zahir—just a completely different vibe.
Milana looked at Emilia and nodded seriously:
“You’ve always had a sharp eye for men.”
Emilia raised an eyebrow, not arguing.
If you’re going to pick a partner, why settle for someone ugly?
Isn’t life hard enough without adding an eyesore to it?
Emilia stopped next to a Rolls Royce Phantom.
Joseph had already stored the luggage and was standing by the car, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, waiting.
Just as she was about to get in, Emilia felt a rush of movement—arms wrapping around her waist.
“Surprise! Emilia! Miss me?”
Hearing that familiar voice, Emilia turned to look at the man hugging her, exclaiming:
“Zahir? Why are you here? Didn’t I tell you to wait? You—mmph—”
Zahir didn’t answer. He shot a glance at Joseph, then leaned down and kissed Emilia, cutting off her words.
“!!!”
Milana gasped audibly, instinctively glancing at Joseph by the car door.
The lover was really confronting the legitimate husband face-to-face? Bold move!
She held her breath and quickly typed into a forum:
“Cold-tempered legal husband vs. playful lover face-off—how to handle this showdown?”