"But you invented this whole story about me seducing him... Is it because you''ve never been truly pursued or cherished by a man yourself?"


    "In your eyes, it''s always women fighting over men. You can''t imagine that a good man might actually choose to pursue a woman. So you automatically assume I''m just like those other women, and me all the mistakes on them."


    "I used to get angry about it, but now, honestly, I just feel sorry for you."


    Amara''s words cut deep, leaving wounds that went straight to the heart.


    The truth was, Emma had her own strengths. After all, she was the mother of someone like Finnian-she must have been a beauty in her youth. Her family background was also quite distinguished; while not quite at the level of the Everlys, she still came from one of the top families in Wye.


    Yet, despite all her advantages, Andrew had never truly been infatuated with her.


    Or perhaps, in the very beginning, he''d been fond of her as a newlywed, but that feeling quickly faded and she was left behind.


    Over the years, Emma had been locked in a constant battle with Andrew''s other women, a struggle that slowly twisted her mind. She couldn''t bear to see Finnian treat Amara so well, and the way Andrew looked at Amara made her deeply ufortable. That was the real reason for her hatred.


    Emma stood rooted to the spot, trembling with barely suppressed fury.


    Her eyes were wide and fierce, burning with an intense hatred as she stared at Amara.


    She never expected Amara to say such things to her.


    She wanted to fight back, to put this petty little girl in her ce, but she had no idea what to say or do.


    So she simply red at Amara, until finally her anger boiled over-she raised her hand, ready to p her.


    Amara had been watching Emma


    closely and could easily anticipate She caught Emma''s wrist


    her m


    and said sharply, you dare try to hit


    me? Keep dreaming!"


    With a strong twist, she flung Emma''s hand aside. The force sent Emma stumbling


    back several steps before she regained her footing.


    Then Amara reached into her bag,


    pulled out a switchde, and nted it on the nearby table. The de caught the sunlight, gunting coldly and the reflection gave Amara''s delicate features a sharp, formidable edge.


    She lowered her voice. "Remember this knife? Last time, after you had me kidnapped, I brought it to you. Do you remember what I said then?"


    Of course Emma remembered the knife.


    Wome fact that a younger


    woman had dared to threaten, ker


    with it had infuriated her, leaving a memory she would never forget


    "What are you doing?" Emma spat, her voice thick with hatred. "Are you threatening me again? Or do you actually n to use that knife?"


    There wasn''t even a trace of fear in her expression; if anything, her eyes were full of


    scorn.


    She knew Amara was bolder than she''d expected, but she was still certain Amara wasn''t the type to actually hurt someone.


    And Amara really didn''t intend to stab her. She closed the knife and put it away. "You''re overthinking it. Why would I go to jail for someone like you?"


    "I''m just reminding you of what I said before."


    She shot Emma a cold look, then turned and walked away.


    Watching Amara''s retreating figure, Emma was beside herself with rage, but there was nothing she could do.


    After a moment, she began to wonder what Amara''s real purpose was in saying all this.