Emma woke up before sunrise.
The sky outside was a soft gray, the city still quiet, like it was holding its breath. She lay in the big bed, watching the light slowly filter through the curtains. For the first time in weeks, she felt peaceful, Safe.
Warm arms were around her. Alexander's chest rose and fell beside her, steady and strong. His face looked softer in sleep no sharp edges, no guarded looks, just him.
Her heart did a slow somersault.
How did she get here? From that tiny apartment with creaky floors and frozen meals to this? To him?
She turned gently, careful not to wake him, and traced the line of his jaw with her eyes. His lashes were long, lips parted slightly, and his arm stayed firm around her waist.
He'd protected her when he didn't have to.
Believed her when others doubted.
Fought for her when she barely had strength left to fight.
Maybe it hadn't started as love but something real was growing.
And it terrified her.
Before she could overthink it, her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Emma reached for it carefully and squinted at the screen.
Unknown Number: 1 new message
"You can hide in his bed, but the truth always finds its way to the light. Does he know about your past yet?"
Emma sat up straight, heart slamming in her chest.
"What the hell?"
The message disappeared seconds later.
Just like that.
She didn't wake Alexander. Instead, she slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
Her reflection in the mirror looked pale.
"Pull yourself together," she whispered.
But it was hard. That message had hit a nerve. The truth the part of her life she'd buried so deep it felt like someone else's story.
Celeste must have found something.
And if she leaked it
Emma gripped the sink.
What would Alexander think? Would he believe her? Would he still want her?
Or would everything fall apart?
Later that morning, they sat together in the living room. Security was already swarming the building, checking cameras and updating codes.
Alexander handed her a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. He had cooked.
Again.
"You're spoiling me," she teased, trying to sound normal.
He raised a brow. "I plan to."
But Emma couldn't eat. The message kept flashing in her mind like a siren.
He noticed. "You okay?"
She hesitated. "Just tired."
He didn't push. Not yet.
But he would. He always saw through her walls.
Later that day, she got the email.
From her old college email account. One she hadn't used in years.
Attached were four pictures.
Blurry but clear enough.
Emma. At a party. College freshman year. Drinking something out of a red cup, laughing, dancing on a table. Another photo showed her in an argument with a guy Marcus. Her ex. The only person who ever made her feel small.
The caption was simple:
"Blackwood's classy wife? Not so classy after all."
Emma stared at the screen, numb.
Her fingers shook as she shut the laptop.
It wasn't fair. Those years were behind her. She had made mistakes. Everyone had. But Celeste wanted to turn them into weapons.
Her stomach turned. Alexander trusted her. He defended her in public, stood beside her when the world doubted their story.
But this? This would ruin everything.
Alexander noticed her mood shift again at dinner.
"You've barely touched your food," he said gently.
Emma sighed. "I'm just distracted."
He leaned forward. "Emma. Look at me."
She did.
I know something's bothering you. I won't force you to talk. But I'm here. Whatever it is, we'll face it together, His voice was calm, Strong, Steady. That made her heart ache even more.
I need to tell you something, she whispered.
He set his fork down. Okay, go ahead
She swallowed. There might be pictures. From college. Me at parties. A fight. A bad relationship. Nothing illegal, just messy. Reckless. Not who I am anymore.
Alexander didn't react.
She rushed on. "Celeste probably got her hands on them. She'll use them to say I'm not 'wife material' or that I'm fake. I don't want you to be blindsided."
Silence.
He stood up and walked toward her.
Emma's heart pounded.
Then he knelt in front of her.
I don't care what you did in college. Everyone has a past. What matters is who you are now. And you He touched her hand. You're strong. Brave. Real.
Her eyes filled with tears.
You're not ashamed? she whispered.
He shook his head. You've faced more than most people and still came out kind. That's something to be proud of.
A tear slid down her cheek. I hate that she keeps trying to break us.
"She won't win," he said.
And somehow, Emma believed him.
Meanwhile, across town
Celeste sat in her penthouse, flipping through a folder of Emma's old college photos.
She smirked.
Kara looked unsure. "Isn't this a bit much?"
Celeste rolled her eyes. Please. People eat scandals for breakfast. If the world sees that precious Emma isn't a perfect princess, they'll turn on her.
But what if it backfires? What if it makes her more relatable? Kara said
Celeste paused. That thought hadn't crossed her mind.
Then we dig deeper, she snapped. Everyone has a skeleton. We just have to find the right one.
Back in Alexander's penthouse, Emma was curled up beside him on the couch.
They were watching a movie well, pretending to. Really, she was just focused on being close to him, on the way his arm wrapped around her shoulders like a shield.
The sound of her phone buzzing again made her tense.
Another unknown number.
This time, it was a voice message.
Emma played it, her hands shaking.
It was Marcus.
Her ex.
Long time no talk, Em. Guess who reached out to me? Your little PR problem. I've got stories to tell. And if your billionaire husband is watching maybe he'll want to know the real you.
Emma froze.
Alexander heard it too.
His jaw clenched. Who the hell is that?
My ex. Marcus. He was awful, she said
Alexander's voice turned cold. She's trying to use him.
Emma nodded. He'll say anything for money.
Alexander stood. Then I'll make sure no one listens.
The next morning, Alexander's legal team sent out warning letters to Marcus and the gossip sites Celeste had tried to contact.
We have lawyers and PR teams on standby, he told Emma. She wants a war? Fine. But we play smarter.
Emma nodded, exhausted but grateful.
I just want a normal life, she whispered.
He touched her cheek. We'll have that, I promise.
But Celeste wasn't done.