Emery’s POV
The glass doors of Remington Holdings reflect the afternoon sun as I push through them, my heels clicking against marble floors polished to a mirror shine.
I came here with a purpose—retrieve my daughter, make peace with my husband. After the tension of this morning, after the hospital visit with Harmony, I need to find solid ground again.
"Mrs. Remington." The receptionist's face lights up with genuine warmth. "What a lovely surprise."
"Hello, Patricia." I manage a smile that feels almost real. "I'm here to see my husband."
"Of course. Mr. Remington mentioned you might stop by." She leans forward conspiratorially, her voice dropping to a stage whisper. "That baby of yours is absolutely precious. We've all been sneaking peeks whenever we can. You're so lucky to have such devoted parents in the family."
The words should comfort me. Instead, they settle like stones in my stomach. "Thank you. I'll head up now."
I navigate the familiar corridors toward Landon's corner office, past assistants who smile and nod, past conference rooms filled with people who have no idea about the war being waged outside these walls. The normalcy feels almost offensive.
Then I hear it—Elsie's babbling laughter, bright and innocent, floating through the partially open door. The sound usually melts me completely. Today, something feels wrong.
I push the door open.
Landon stands by the floor-to-ceiling windows with Elsie balanced on his hip, the city skyline stretching behind them. Perfectly natural. Perfectly ordinary. But my eyes don't stay on them.
Seated at his conference table, papers spread before her like she belongs there, is Marian.
The silence that follows is suffocating.
"Emery." Landon's voice carries the careful neutrality of a man who knows he's been caught. "I didn't expect you so soon."
"Clearly." My gaze shifts between them, cataloging details—the comfortable way Marian has positioned herself, the half-empty coffee cups, the documents that suggest this isn't a brief meeting. "What's going on here?"
Marian's smile sharpens with barely concealed delight, but she says nothing. She doesn't have to. She's content to watch.
"It's a joint foundation project." Landon adjusts Elsie on his hip, and our daughter reaches toward me with grabbing hands. "Charity work that requires coordination between families. Nothing personal."
"Nothing personal." I repeat the words slowly, tasting their inadequacy. "You're working with her. In your office. With our daughter present. And you're telling me it's nothing personal?"
"We have overlapping philanthropic interests. The board suggested—"
"Why did I know nothing about this?"
His hesitation stretches into something damning. I watch his jaw tighten, watch him search for words that won't make this worse. The silence is answer enough.
"You should have told me." My voice stays level, but something cracks beneath the surface. "After everything she's done. After every attack, every manipulation, every attempt to destroy me—you should have told me."
"I was going to explain tonight. I didn't want to add stress while you were dealing with Harmony's situation."
"So you made the decision for me. Again." I cross the room, my focus narrowing to Elsie's outstretched arms. "You decided what I could handle. What I needed to know. Just like your mother does."
Landon flinches as if I've struck him.
I lift Elsie from his arms without looking at his face. My daughter settles against my chest, her small fingers curling into my hair, and for a moment, the weight of her grounds me. Keeps me from saying things I can't take back.
"I hope the project is fulfilling." I direct the words at Marian, my tone polished glass. "Philanthropy suits you. Much better than your other hobbies."
Marian rises gracefully from her chair, smoothing her skirt with manicured fingers. Her expression holds the satisfaction of someone who has already won.
"Thank you, Emery. I do try to contribute meaningfully where I can." She gathers her papers with deliberate slowness. "I look forward to discussing the details further at Elsie's birthday celebration. Such a special milestone."
The audacity stops me mid-step.
I turn at the door, Elsie warm and safe against my chest. My eyes meet Marian's across the expanse of Landon's office—across months of psychological warfare, across ruined reputations and whispered lies, across every wound she's inflicted and called kindness.
"You were never invited." The words come out perfectly calm. "And you never will be."
I don't wait for her response. I don't look at Landon.
I walk out, my heels striking marble with each step, and I feel the trust I've been rebuilding crack and splinter with every footfall. Behind me, silence. No footsteps following. No voice calling my name.
Elsie pats my face with her small hand, babbling something that sounds almost like a question. I press a kiss to her forehead and keep walking.
The elevator doors close around us, and I finally allow myself to breathe. In the mirrored walls, I see a woman holding her daughter like a lifeline—back straight, chin lifted, eyes dry despite everything burning behind them.
He should have told me.
The thought circles endlessly as we descend floor after floor. He knew what Marian represented. He knew the history, the danger, the deliberate cruelty she wrapped in charm. And he sat across from her anyway, with our daughter in the room, and kept it secret.
Nothing personal.
I laugh quietly, and Elsie giggles in response, thinking it's a game.
"It's always personal, sweetheart." I smooth the wispy hair from her forehead. "Everything they do. Every move they make. They just don't want us to notice."
The lobby passes in a blur of concerned smiles and murmured goodbyes. I nod without really seeing anyone, my mind already racing ahead to what comes next.
Elsie's birthday is in days. The guest list has been finalized. Security has been arranged. Every detail planned with military precision to protect this one perfect day for my daughter.
And now Marian thinks she's attending.
I step into the afternoon sun, my daughter secure in my arms, and feel the weight of decisions I haven't made yet pressing down on my shoulders. The car waits at the curb. The estate waits beyond that. And somewhere in between, my marriage waits for a reckoning I'm not sure either of us will survive.
Landon chose to keep this from me. That's the fact I can't escape.
Maybe he thought he was protecting me. Maybe he thought it didn't matter. Maybe he genuinely believed that sitting across from the woman who tried to destroy me was just business, just politics, just the price of power.
But trust doesn't work that way. Not anymore. Not after everything.
I buckle Elsie into her car seat and watch her smile up at me, innocent and unknowing. She trusts me completely. Trusts that I'll keep her safe. Trusts that the world I'm building around her will be solid enough to stand.
I refuse to let her down.
The car pulls away from Remington Holdings, and I don't look back. Whatever waits at the estate, whatever confrontation is coming, I'll face it the way I've faced everything else.
Alone if I have to.