As the couple left the family estate, Emelia Chapman made a beeline for her own car—until David Richards caught her wrist, his gaze heavy with something unsaid. She instinctively glanced back at the manor house. From the third-floor window, her mother-in-law, Nadia, and grandmother-in-law, Astrid, were waving them off. With a reluctant wave, Emelia slid into David's car, wordlessly tossing her keys to Khari Freeman, his driver.
They drove in silence, thick and heavy, until the car merged onto the highway, heading back toward home. That's when Emelia finally broke it.
"I want to go back to my apartment," she said flatly.
David didn't take his eyes off the road. "Until the divorce papers are signed, you're still Mrs. Richards. And Mrs. Richards belongs at home." He pressed on the accelerator, making it clear he had no intention of turning around.
Emelia took a slow breath. "So, David, when are we going to the lawyer's office? For the divorce?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he tossed the question back at her. "Have you actually made up your mind? Are you sure about the divorce?"
"Yes, I'm sure," she said without hesitation.
David shot her a sideways glance, a flicker of emotion passing through his eyes before a smirk settled on his lips. "You've got a cold heart, you know that?"
"Call it whatever you like. Just turn the car around." Her voice was steady, unyielding.
Maybe it was that resolute tone that got to him. Without another word, he switched lanes, steering the car toward her apartment.
"You've made your choice. Just don't regret it," he said, his voice low and unreadable—part surrender, part warning.
They reached her apartment building a few minutes later. Emelia unbuckled her seatbelt. "I'll have the divorce papers sent to your office tomorrow."
"Suit yourself." His indifferent mask didn't crack. She got out, and he drove off without a backward glance.
Emelia pulled her own car into the garage. As she waited for the elevator, her phone rang. It was her mother, Jasmine Fernandez—her voice sharp with urgency. Emelia didn't ask questions; she simply got back in her car and sped to her parents' house.
She barely made it through the front door before the shouting hit her.
"Phillip, you've really outdone yourself this time!" her mother's voice echoed from the entryway. "A mess this big and you're telling me now? If you had a single shred of sense, you would have kept it buried forever instead of confessing!"
"Do you even know what you've done? You get talked into some scheme over dinner, and suddenly you're ready to invest? Where's your judgment? If I weren't killing myself to keep this company afloat, you'd have thrown everything away years ago! I leave for one business trip, and you go and pull a stunt like this. Thanks. Really."
Her fury boiled over, and she lunged at Phillip. Their son, Kye Chapman, was faster—he caught her around the waist and held her back.
"Mom, come on. Breathe. Have some coffee," Kye said, guiding her to the sofa and pressing a cup into her hands.
But Jasmine was too worked up to drink. She slammed the cup to the floor. Coffee splattered everywhere, staining Emelia's pants as she walked in.
"Mom, what's going on?" Emelia brushed at the brown stains, her brow creased with worry.
Jasmine's expression darkened when she saw Emelia standing there alone. "Why are you here by yourself? I told you to bring David."
"I told him you called, but he was busy. I figured you could talk to me just the same," Emelia replied.
Jasmine let out a harsh laugh. "Talk to you? Really?" She snatched up her phone and started dialing.
Emelia moved to stop her, but Jasmine's stern glare and raised finger froze her mid-step.
Her mother had always been domineering—pushing Emelia to become a sharp, ruthless businesswoman like herself. But Emelia took after her father: softer, more trusting, and lacking that steel edge Jasmine prized. That had always been a bitter disappointment. As for her brother, Kye, he was an even bigger thorn in their mother's side—he'd ditched corporate life entirely to chase his passion for animals instead of business.
Jasmine's tone changed the moment the call connected, all traces of anger gone.
"Hello? David, it's Jasmine." She walked into another room for privacy.
Emelia sighed, turning to her father. "Dad, did you lose money on an investment?"
Phillip slumped deeper into the couch, shook his head, and said nothing.
Emelia whipped around to Kye. "What happened?"
Kye sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. "Honestly, Em, Dad got conned. He put money into some investment scheme, and the people behind it took off with everything. It's bad. He poured in two-thirds of both the family's savings and the company's funds."
"What?" The word barely escaped her. Her mind went blank, struggling to process the scale of it.
Kye continued, "That's why Mom wanted you and David here. Right now, he's the only one who can help bail us out."
Emelia went quiet. Her father was in serious trouble—just as she was planning to divorce David. How could she possibly accept his help now? And if she did, would she even be able to walk away from this marriage?
Before she could spiral further, Jasmine returned, a smile plastered on her face. "Alright, he's on his way over. Emelia's already here."
Phillip, noticing his wife's improved mood, sat up straighter. "What did David say?"
"Just wait," Jasmine replied, heading upstairs.
A little over twenty minutes later, David arrived.
In front of her family, Emelia knew she had to play the dutiful wife—especially now that they needed his help.
"You're here," she greeted him softly.
David met her gaze, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Darling, how could you come to your family without telling me? Do you see me as an outsider?"
"Of course not. I just didn't want to trouble you—you're so busy," she murmured, forcing a smile.
Jasmine cut in smoothly. "David, your father-in-law's situation is a bit complicated. Let's discuss it in the study."
"Sure, Jasmine," David agreed, following her and Phillip upstairs.
Kye, realizing the "problem solver" had arrived and there was little else he could do, started for the door.
"I'll walk you out," Emelia offered.
Kye grinned. "Em, why don't you learn a thing or two about business from Mom?"
Emelia laughed, the sound surprisingly light. "Are you jealous of how easy I've got it?"
"Maybe a little," he admitted, smile fading. "Drive safe."
The meeting upstairs stretched on. By the time it finally ended, the night had settled in.
"Why don't you stay the night?" Jasmine suggested.
