“I came to check on you. Your father gave me the keys just in case,” Carl smiled at her. Emery narrowed her eyes. Adam actually let this old man into her room? It seemed that she had underestimated her father!


    Emery took a step back as Carl approached, her arms instinctively crossing in front of her.


    Carl’s smile deepened. “Rx. I just came to talk.”


    “Talk outside,” Emery said, backing up again.


    “I’m serious. You should really consider it,” Carl said. “Marrying me isn’t the worst thing that could happen. Our families both win. And frankly, so do you.”


    “Don’te closer,” Emery warned, her voice low.


    He raised an eyebrow and kept moving. “Or what?”


    The words had barely left his mouth when a loud thud echoed through the room. Carl staggered forward, then dropped to one knee. His hand shot up to his head, touching the spot where Logan had just struck him with something from the desk.


    Emery’s eyes widened. She stared at Logan as he stood behind Carl, calm and unfazed.


    “What the hell did you do?” she asked.


    Logan didn’t answer. He reached for her wrist and began pulling her toward the door. “You’re not staying here.”


    She yanked her hand back. “You don’t get to make decisions for me.”


    Logan’s jaw tensed. Without a word, he grabbed her again, this time pulling her close. Emery’s chest hit his, and she had to nt her hands on him to keep some distance.


    “Say one more thing that pisses me off,” he said lowly, his fingers brushing her jaw, “and I’ll remind you exactly who that mouth belongs to.”


    “You!” Something in her locked up. Her arms went stiff against him. What does that mean? Her mouth was dry. Her mind knew she should fight, but her body froze.


    Logan’s grip didn’t loosen. He tilted his head just enough to make her look at him. She couldn’t look away. His eyes looked darker now, colder. Like something hidden inside had finallye to the surface.


    He touched her chin again. “No one’s going toy a hand on you. Ever.”


    That was thest thing she heard before everything went ck.


    Adam stood stiffly by the firece, shoulders squared, arms locked behind his back as his mother paced the room.


    “How could you let your daughter marry a man twice her age?” Mary snapped, turning sharply toward him. “Adam, what were you thinking?”


    He didn’t flinch. “Mother, we already agreed that I would decide on her marriage. You went too far back there. You embarrassed me in front of our guests.”


    Mary’s hand hit the side table. “What face do you think you still have to lose? You’re parading your daughter around like


    she’s some pawn in a merger! She’s twenty-eight, Adam. You don’t own her.”


    Adam turned slightly. “She made a bet. A deal. She knew the terms, and she agreed.”


    Mary walked closer. “You really think that deal makes this right? You think paperwork justifies selling her off to a man she can’t stand? A man you didn’t even bother to research properly?”


    “That wasn’t my fault,” Adam said, jaw tightening. “I tried to raise her the best I could, given the situation.”


    Mary threw up her hands. “You didn’t raise her! You ignored her until she was useful to you. She grew up in our house, Adam. I know her better than you ever bothered to.”


    “Enough,” Deana said suddenly. She stepped between them, hands up. “Please. This isn’t helping. You’re not each other’s enemies.”


    Adam looked away.


    “She’s right,” James added from behind them. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “This entire argument is pointless. Emery’s an adult. You can try to push her all you want, but she’ll do what she wants in the end.”


    Adam stared at the mes in the firece. It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. It was supposed to be simple. Controlled. But now everything was unraveling, and it all started the moment Emery walked back into this house.


    Adam clenched his jaw and walked out of his mother’s room without a word. As he passed the hallway, his eyes shifted toward Emery’s direction. It was quiet. Too quiet. For a second, he wondered-had she finally given up? No. That wasn’t like her. Not in front of her grandmother, who had spoiled her since she was a child.


    He went back to his office and immediately took some wine from the bar counter. Then he paused.


    He slowly turned, his fingers still around the neck of the wine bottle. That’s when he saw it-someone was sitting in his chair. Adam’s heart stopped for a second. Then he stepped forward.


    It was Mr. Moregardh.


    Slumped forward, body still, eyes closed. At first nce, it looked like he was just dozing off. But as Adam got closer, the unease crept up his spine. He leaned down, shook the man’s shoulder. “Mr. Moregardh?”


    No response.


    “Mr. Moregardh!” he said again, louder this time.


    Still nothing.


    Adam moved quickly. He checked for breathing and felt a faint pulse-slow, but there. The man was alive. Unconscious, but alive.


    Then he noticed the paper on the desk.


    He grabbed it.


    One line.


    “This will be thest time.”


    Adam read it twice. His knees bent slightly as a tremor rolled through his limbs. The paper slipped from his fingers andnded face-down on the rug. He stared at it like it might vanish.


    His stomach turned. He took a shaky breath and stood up.


    He needed to check on Emery.


    He turned toward the door and moved quickly, too quickly. He bumped into the edge of the desk and nearly lost his bnce. His foot twisted as he caught himself, but he didn’t stop.


    He opened the door and walked out.


    No guards. No sound.


    Something was off.


    He picked up his pace. Down the hallway. Past the portraits. Past the old family grandfather clock. His breath got heavier.


    He reached the corner and turned sharply.


    Emery’s door was open.


    His heart jumped into his throat.


    He didn’t bother knocking. He stepped inside.


    No one.


    The room was empty.


    The bed was made. The nkets hadn’t been used. A few things were still on the dresser-her phone charger, a small hairclip-but the window was closed. The room was quiet. Too quiet.


    He walked in farther, scanned the floor.


    No signs of struggle.


    He checked the bathroom. Empty.


    He stood still in the middle of the room, his jaws clenched.


    She was gone.


    She left. Or someone took her.


    Adam backed up a step, then two. He turned and left the room, calling out for James, for any of the staff-but no one answered.


    His


    ‘ollow.