Emma's POV
I run for three blocks before my legs give out.
I collapse on a bench, gasping for air, my designer dress ruined with sweat and tears. People walk past giving me weird looks. A homeless woman in expensive clothes. That's what I am now.
Homeless.
Broke.
Destroyed.
My phone buzzes. Damien calling. I reject it.
He calls again. Reject.
Again. Reject.
Text from Damien: "Emma, let me explain. It's not what you think."
Another text: "Please. Just give me five minutes."
I turn off my phone completely. Can't deal with his lies anymore.
The attorney's words echo in my head: "Meet me at Riverside Café in thirty minutes. Your mother was murdered. Patricia killed her."
Could that be true? Could Patricia have killed Mom?
I think back to that day. I was twelve years old. Dad said Mom died in a car accident. Quick. Painless. That's all I was ever told.
But what if that was a lie too? What if everything has always been a lie?
I check the time. Twenty-five minutes until I'm supposed to meet Margaret Frost.
I stand up on shaky legs and start walking. The café is only six blocks from here. I can make it.
My reflection catches in a store window. I look destroyed. Makeup smeared. Hair messy. This morning I looked powerful and elegant. Now I look like someone who just lost everything.
Because I did lose everything.
I'm halfway to the café when a car pulls up beside me. A black sports car. Expensive. Familiar.
The window rolls down.
Damien.
"Get in the car, Emma."
"Go to hell." I keep walking.
"Emma, please. You need to hear me out."
"I don't need anything from you. You used me. You stole my money. You made me look like an idiot in front of five hundred people."
"I didn't steal your money. Your family did that before I even knew it was happening." Damien drives slowly beside me. "And I was trying to HELP you expose them."
"Without any actual evidence!" I stop walking and face him. "You had nothing. No medical records. No proof. You just wanted to cause a scene for your stock prices!"
"That's not—" Damien runs his hand through his hair, frustrated. "Okay, yes, my company benefited from the publicity. But that wasn't the plan. The investigator was supposed to have those records by now."
"Convenient excuse."
"Emma, I'm telling the truth—"
"Truth?" I laugh bitterly. "You don't know what truth means. Just like my family. Just like Alexander. Everyone lies. Everyone uses people. I'm done trusting anyone."
I turn and keep walking.
Damien parks the car and gets out. Follows me on foot. "Where are you going?"
"None of your business."
"You have nowhere to go. No money. No home. Emma, be practical—"
"Practical?" I spin around. "You want to talk about being practical? Practically speaking, you're a dangerous stranger who manipulated me for business gain. Why would I ever trust you again?"
"Because you need me." Damien's voice is hard now. Honest. "Like it or not, you need resources. Money. A place to stay. Help rebuilding your life. I'm still offering all of that."
"In exchange for what? Being your puppet?"
"In exchange for taking down the people who destroyed both of us." Damien steps closer. "Emma, everything else aside, we both want the same thing. We want the Kanes and your family to pay for what they did. We can do that together."
"Or you'll just use me again."
"Maybe." Damien's brutal honesty catches me off guard. "Maybe I will use aspects of this situation for business advantage. But that doesn't change the fact that I can genuinely help you. And you can genuinely help me get revenge on the people who caused my father's death."
I want to say no. Want to walk away. But he's right about one thing—I have nothing. Nowhere to go. $0 in my bank account.
"I'm meeting someone," I say. "An attorney who claims to have information about my mother's death."
Damien's expression changes. "What attorney?"
"Margaret Frost. She says Patricia murdered my mother. Says Mom left me a secret inheritance."
"Emma, that's a trap."
"How do you know?"
"Because there is no attorney named Margaret Frost in this city. I know every major attorney. That's not a real person." Damien pulls out his phone. "What number called you?"
I show him the call log. He types something quickly.
"Burner phone. Untraceable." Damien looks at me seriously. "Someone is trying to lure you somewhere isolated. After what just happened at that reception, you're vulnerable. An easy target."
"Target for what?"
"For whatever your family is planning next." Damien's jaw tightens. "Emma, you just publicly accused them of theft and fraud. You made them look bad in front of hundreds of people and press cameras. You think they're just going to let that go?"
Fear trickles down my spine. "You think they'd hurt me?"
"I think people who steal half a million dollars from their own daughter are capable of anything."
He might be right. He might be lying to keep control of me. I don't know anymore.
"Why should I trust you?"
"You shouldn't." Damien's honesty is almost refreshing. "But you don't have better options right now. Come back to the house. We'll figure out who called you pretending to be an attorney. We'll find actual evidence against Victoria. We'll get your money back."
"You can't get my money back. The trust fund is closed."
"Nothing is ever really closed if you know the right lawyers." Damien's smile is sharp. "Emma, I have resources your family can't imagine. Legal teams. Investigators. Connections to judges and politicians. Let me use those resources to help you."
"In exchange for what exactly?"
"In exchange for you being visible. Being my business partner publicly. Showing the world that Emma Chen didn't disappear in shame—she rose stronger." Damien's eyes are intense. "The Kanes humiliated you. Let's return the favor by building you into someone so successful they regret ever letting you go."
It's tempting. So tempting.
But I remember the anonymous texts. The warnings about Damien.
"How do I know you won't betray me again?"
"You don't." Damien doesn't sugarcoat it. "But Emma, betrayal requires trust first. Right now, we don't trust each other. We're just two people who want revenge using each other to get it. That's honest. That's clear. No false promises."
My phone buzzes. I turned it back on to check the time.
Text from unknown number: "You're ten minutes late to our meeting, Emma. Last chance. Come now or lose everything your mother left you."
I show Damien.
"It's a trap," he repeats.
"What if it's not? What if Mom really did leave me something and I'm throwing it away?"
"Then we'll find it legitimately. Through real attorneys and actual investigation. Not by walking into some isolated café to meet a stranger." Damien's voice softens slightly. "Emma, I know you don't trust me. But trust your instincts. Does this feel right to you?"
I think about it. Really think.
A mysterious attorney who conveniently calls right after my public humiliation. Claims Mom was murdered. Claims there's secret money. Demands I come alone and trust no one.
It does sound like a trap.
"Fine," I say finally. "I won't go to the café. But that doesn't mean I'm accepting your offer either."
"Then what will you do? Sleep on the street?"
The reality hits me. I literally have nowhere to go. No money for a hotel. No friends I can call—I sacrificed all my friendships for Alexander over the years.
I'm completely alone.
Damien sees the realization on my face. "Come back to the house. Just for tonight. Tomorrow you can decide if you want my help or not. But tonight, at least be safe and warm."
Every instinct screams this is dangerous. That Damien Cross is manipulating me.
But sleeping on the street is dangerous too.
"One night," I say. "That's all."
"One night," Damien agrees.
We get in the car. As we drive away, I see a figure standing outside Riverside Café. A woman in a dark coat, checking her watch, looking around.
Was that Margaret Frost? Was she real?
Or was Damien right about it being a trap?
I don't know. I don't know anything anymore.
We drive back to the mansion in silence. When we pull up, Eleanor is waiting at the door. She must have been watching for us.
"Oh, Emma." Eleanor rushes down the steps and pulls me into a hug before I can protest. "I saw what happened at the reception. Online. Everyone's posting videos."
Great. My humiliation is viral.
"I'm so sorry, dear." Eleanor holds me at arm's length, studying my face. "Come inside. Let's get you cleaned up."
She guides me into the house like I'm fragile. Maybe I am.
Damien follows us inside. "I need to make some calls. Emma, we'll talk tomorrow about next steps."
He disappears into his office.
Eleanor takes me upstairs to the same beautiful bedroom from before. "Let me run you a bath. You've had a terrible day."
I sink onto the bed, numb. "They took everything. My money, my home, my dignity. And I found out Alexander was cheating on me for two years. Two years, Eleanor. While I was working three jobs to support him."
"I know, sweetheart." Eleanor sits beside me. "And I know right now everything feels impossible. But you're stronger than you think."
"I don't feel strong. I feel destroyed."
"Destroyed things can be rebuilt." Eleanor squeezes my hand. "Sometimes they come back even better than before."
I want to believe her. But I'm so tired. So completely exhausted.
"Why is Damien really helping me?" I ask. "What does he actually want?"
Eleanor is quiet for a moment. "My son wants revenge against the Kanes. That part is true. But Emma, I think he also sees something of himself in you. He knows what it's like to lose everything. To be betrayed by people who should protect you."
"So I remind him of his trauma?"
"You remind him that survival is possible." Eleanor stands up. "Now, bath time. Then sleep. Tomorrow we figure out how to fight back."
She leaves me alone in the bathroom.
I stare at myself in the mirror. Ruined makeup. Tangled hair. Swollen eyes from crying.
This morning I woke up excited about exposing Victoria.
Tonight I'm a viral joke. Broke. Homeless. Publicly humiliated.
How did everything go so wrong so fast?
My phone buzzes. One more text from unknown number: "You made a mistake choosing Damien over me. Now you'll pay the price. They're coming for you, Emma. And he can't protect you."
Before I can process that, the bathroom lights go out.
The entire mansion goes dark.
I hear Eleanor scream downstairs.
Then glass shattering.
Then footsteps. Multiple footsteps. Running through the house.
Someone just broke in.
And I'm trapped in a dark bathroom in a mansion I barely know with people who might want to hurt me.