Chapter 6

Emma crossed the street, her steps lighter than they had been in weeks, and walked into the opulent lobby of the Chaney building.

Three days later, Emma wore a brand-new, sharp navy blue pantsuit. She sat in her private office at Diego's firm.

She hit the enter key, firing off the final competitor analysis report to the client.

Diego knocked on the open glass door and walked in. "Incredible work, Emma. Let's celebrate your first week. Le Bernardin, seven o'clock."

Emma hesitated, wanting to go home and rest, but realizing she had finally earned her own money, she nodded. "I'd love to."

At seven o'clock, they sat at a quiet window table in the three-Michelin-starred restaurant.

The lighting was soft and amber. A violinist played a slow classical piece in the corner.

Diego raised his crystal champagne flute. Emma raised her glass of sparkling water. They smiled and clinked their glasses together.

Suddenly, the heavy revolving doors at the entrance pushed open, causing a ripple of whispers to spread through the dining room.

Denton walked in, wearing a bespoke black suit. Hanging off his arm was Beverly, draped in a glittering evening gown.

The maître d' rushed forward, bowing slightly, guiding them toward the center VIP table.

As Denton moved, his peripheral vision caught the window table. His footsteps stopped dead.

His eyes locked onto Emma, who was smiling warmly at Diego. The temperature in Denton's eyes dropped to absolute zero.

Beverly followed his gaze. A tiny, malicious smirk twitched at the corner of her mouth before she hid it.

Denton didn't go to his table. He changed direction, his long strides eating up the distance toward the window.

His leather shoes made no sound on the thick carpet, but the suffocating pressure of his presence made the air around them freeze.

Emma felt the shadow fall over her. She looked up and met Denton's bloodshot, furious eyes.

Denton slammed both hands flat onto their dining table, leaning down to invade their space. He let out a harsh, grating sneer.

"Refusing to sign the divorce papers because you were busy securing your next meal ticket?" Denton's voice was loud enough to carry to the neighboring tables.

Diego stood up instantly, stepping in front of Emma. "Back off, Chaney. Watch your mouth."

Denton didn't even look at Diego. "Picking up the trash the Chaney family threw out? How desperate are you, Pena?"

The words were brutally vile. Around them, wealthy patrons stopped eating, turning their heads to watch the scandal unfold.

Emma's face drained of all color. Her fingers gripped the white tablecloth so hard her joints ached.

Beverly stepped up, placing a delicate hand on Denton's arm. "Denton, please," she cooed loudly. "Don't humiliate my sister in public. She can't help herself."

The fake pity was gasoline on a fire. Denton glared at Emma. "Vicious and completely shameless."

Emma snapped. She stood up, pushing past Diego's protective arm, stepping right into Denton's space.

She tilted her chin up, her voice steady and ringing with defiance. "I am eating a meal paid for by my own salary. You have no right to speak to me."

Denton stared at the new suit she was wearing-clothes he hadn't bought, a life she was building without him. A wild, uncontrollable rage flared in his chest.

He ground his teeth together. "You will pay for your stupidity today, Emma."

He grabbed Beverly's arm and stormed out of the restaurant, leaving a stunned silence in his wake. As Denton pushed through the revolving doors, he pulled out his phone and made a brief, cold call. "Keep an eye on her. And on Pena. I want to know every move they make."

Emma felt all the strength drain from her muscles. She collapsed back into her chair, her palms slick with cold sweat.