Nathan's Pov
I climbed the stairs with the faint sounds of Emily's chatter still audible through the closed door as she talked to her best friend. I was now in the bedroom, with a head full of ideas. The present she had given me lay in my palm, weightless and meaningless. The last thing I expected her to be was collected and warm even that much earlier.
She had slapped Rachel. I knew Emily was not one to resort to violence, but she had enough reasons to be very furious. I had been cruel, dismissive, and paraded. Yet here was a smiling Emily, a birthday gift in hand for me as though I deserved it.
I tossed the gift onto the bed without even looking back at it. It landed with a thud, and I just left it unopened. What could it be? Probably one of those cheap belts? A pair of socks? Something dull and unimaginative, I bet. My thoughts turned to Rachel.
She was the very antithesis of Emily in many aspects: the fire, the passion, the boldness. Nights spent with her were necessarily unforgettable and intoxicating, I couldn't help but think of Rachel as the spontaneous, exciting type who was quite adept at keeping a person like me on edge. Though in contrast, Emily? Predictability. Obedience. Boring.
Yet, here I sat on the bed, trapped by memories of a father who had coerced Emily down my throat. It was far more Rachel, wild and irresistible, whom I'd want, but to him, she was deemed reckless—a stain on the reputation of the family. Emily, obedient and polished, fitted his vision.
When I refused, he dropped the bombshell that I was illegitimate, and this was my only way into the family fortune: marry Emily. The plan was simple—marry her, and get 30 percent of the company share, even if the shares were in her name and not mine.
"A gift?" Rachel chuckled. "What's in it?"
"Who cares? I threw it to the side. Probably some useless junk."
Rachel laughed again, her amusement grating and comforting all at once. "You're unbelievable. Anyway, I'll see you later."
I ended the call without another word and headed for the shower. The hot water cascaded over me, washing away the day's grime but not the irritation lingering beneath my skin. I got dressed and went downstairs.
Emily was still chatting with her friend when I interrupted, my tone clipped. "I'm heading out. I'll be back for dinner. Make sure it's ready."
She gazed at me, her face betraying no expression. "Don't bother," she said, "I'll manage everything."
That only aggravated me more, and without a word further, I beat a path to the office.
By the time I got there, the board was already in session. They didn't bother waiting for me. I hung out outside, fuming as the sounds of muted voices echoed from the conference room. Finally, my father walked out all commanding and grand into the world.
"Nathan," he barked. "My office now."
I followed him, ready for the blow to hit.
"You useless filthy thing," he said behind the shut door and added, "Do you know how embarrassing it is to have you as a son? At least thank God that you are not a legitimate son so I can still say that my real heir is not a complete failure."
He leaned back in his chair, his lips curling into a sneer. "Your brother, Richard, now that's a man who knows how to get things done. Everything you are not responsible, intelligent, capable. You? You are nothing but a liability."
The words stung, but I covered it with an indifferent attitude. I'd heard this speech a dozen times before.
Once more I leaned back and walked out of there. He called my name to stop me, but I ignored him entirely. The whole drive home, I could feel my face flushing as I gripped the steering wheel; my knuckles turned almost white.
Walking into the house, the first thing to hit me was the silence. There was no cheerful bustle around the house, like Emily cooking in the kitchen or humming softly to herself.
"Emily!" my voice echoed in the emptiness of space.
Nothing.
I walked into the bedroom. Her clothes are still there, but everything else feels twisted. Cursing myself impatiently with each added stair, I started back downstairs. The calm was broken by a knocking on my door outside.
I flung the door wide open, hoping to find Emily on the other side, but instead, I found Rachel with a couple of my colleagues.
Rachel stepped through the door and asked, "What about dinner?" Her voice was bright, but the mocking undertone wasn't lost on me.
"My stupid wife is busy." I slammed the door with an angry shout.
Rachel laughed with a highly sarcastic tone. "Maybe she is working extra hours as a *waiter*."
What she said was a sharp knife cutting through irritation into an angry flush. "She is not working. It isn't time for her shift."
Rachel laughed again. "Well, why don't we go check? Maybe your friends can stay here while we find her."
Nathan finally decided to do the unthinkable, search for Emily out at the restaurant where she works.
