Emily's POV
A sharp, searing pain tore through my abdomen like every organ inside me was being shredded apart.
My vision blurred red.
I snapped.
Grabbing Sabrina by the hair, I repeatedly slammed her head into the wall without mercy.
Blood streamed down her face.
But she didn't cry. She didn't scream. She smiled, her face gleaming with sick satisfaction.
"Did you really think this would avenge your daughter?" she sneered. "Let me tell you something. It's far from over. This is only the beginning."
With a flick of her wrist, she pulled out a small doll from her pocket. Its cloth body was pierced with needles, and she tossed it into the nearby fire basin.
Then, like flipping a switch, she dropped to her knees in front of me and whimpered.
Her voice trembling with false guilt as she said, "Emily, I'm sorry… please don't hurt my unborn child… he's innocent…"
I hadn't even processed what she meant when a heavy boot crashed into my back.
The impact hurled me forward. My head cracked against the edge of the bed. Blood gushed down my forehead.
Dazed, I looked up to see Gideon crouched beside her, holding Sabrina close. She looked shaken, her face pale and eyes glassy, as if she was seconds from passing out.
"Emily," she cried out, gushing with fake tears, "I don't care if you hate me… but how could you be so cruel? Hurting my baby like this?"
Before I could say a word, Gideon came and hurled the doll straight at my face.
"Emily, how dare you!"
That's when I noticed it. The doll had Sabrina's birth date and time scribbled across it, along with a crudely drawn image of an infant.
I let out a dry, bitter laugh.
What a pathetic setup.
But of course, Gideon didn't even question it. He condemned me on the spot. Seeing the look on my face, he stepped toward me again, fists clenched, ready to strike.
But then, out of the corner of his eye, Gideon caught sight of Rosie's memorial photo and the still-smoking toys in the brazier.
His mood shifted in an instant. His face twisted with disgust and fury.
"What the hell is this supposed to mean?!" he barked. "Seriously, you bleached Rosie's picture out of jealousy? Emily, you don't deserve to be a mother!"
The second he mentioned Rosie, my chest heaved.
My hands curled into fists as my vision went red again.
"Gideon," I said, voice shaking with grief and fury, "don't you dare speak of her. You're a murderer!"
My pain must have finally registered, because for a fleeting moment, his face faltered.
Gideon's lips parted like he might actually say something.
But Sabrina pressed her face into his chest, trembling. "Gideon… that photo scares me. I think the baby's scared too…"
And just like that, whatever doubt had flickered vanished.
The warmth in his expression froze over.
He picked up Rosie's photo, his hand curling around it like a claw.
"No, don't!" I cried out, lunging forward. "Gideon, that's the only thing I have left of her—"
But I couldn't stop him. He tore the photo clean down the middle.
I stared at my daughter's image, now split in two, just as my heart was.
Tears spilled over, blurring everything.
I looked up at him, my voice hollow and raw. "Gideon, one day… you're going to regret this. I swear I'll be here to see it."
Gideon scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer. "It's just a photo. I'll never regret it."
But before the smugness could even settle on his face, Sabrina suddenly screamed.
"Ahhh, what is this thing? It feels so… heavy with death. The baby can't breathe!"
I turned sharply.
Sabrina was pointing at Rosie's urn.
Without thinking, I rushed forward to take it back. But Gideon shoved me to the floor hard. He grabbed the urn and pried it open.
The moment he saw the ashes inside, his rage boiled over.
"Emily, you did this on purpose, didn't you? You brought this nasty thing in here just to freak Sabrina out, so that she'd lose the baby! How the hell did I not see before how cruel you really are?"
I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood. I swallowed the scream rising in my throat.
"Gideon, just give her back to me," I said quietly. "I'll leave this house. I'll never bother you again."
His brow furrowed. "What the hell does that mean? Leave? What do you mean by leave?"
Emily's POV
"And Rosie? Why hasn't she come out to greet me?" Gideon asked.
I let out a cold, humorless laugh.
He still had the audacity to mention our daughter. But before I could even respond, Sabrina took the urn from his hands and extended it toward me. I rushed forward to take it, but in the very next second, she loosened her grip.
The urn slipped from her fingers and dropped directly into the fire basin. It vanished in an instant, swallowed by flames.
"No!"
My scream tore through the air.
Without a second thought, I plunged my hands into the fire. Blisters erupted instantly, burns of every size boiling across my skin.
But I didn't stop.
I dug frantically and desperately until the pain was unbearable. Still, I couldn't find even a single trace of my daughter's ashes.
I collapsed onto the floor, crumpling around the space where she used to be, wailing in pure anguish.
Behind me, Gideon looked at me like I'd lost my mind.
Then, as if none of it had mattered, he turned and walked away with Sabrina in his arms.
Just before he really left, he said, "I'll pretend none of this ever happened today. Tomorrow, bring Rosie to the company celebration. I'll publicly announce her as the Davidson Group's primary heir. That should satisfy you."
I said nothing.
I just clung to the empty wooden box like it was the only thing holding me together.
...
Gideon's POV
At the company celebration, I stood front and center, trying to hold it together while tension gnawed at my gut. Every second that passed without a glimpse of Emily or Rosie made it harder to stay calm.
I've already told her that I would make the public announcement she wanted from the beginning, but she wasn't here on the crucial day.
After a few long minutes, I couldn't take it anymore.
I turned sharply to my assistant and barked, "Where the hell are they? Why haven't you found them yet?!"
The guy flinched like I'd hit him, his face pale and mouth halfway open to respond when his phone rang.
He glanced down at the screen.
"It's the private investigator," he muttered.
"Put it on speaker," I said, without hesitation.
I figured it was good news that they'd finally tracked them down.
But the voice on the other end was shaky, almost too scared to speak.
"Sir Gideon, I've just finished a full investigation. And… I discovered that your daughter actually passed away two days ago."
