Chapter 7 The Price of Silence

The following morning was gloomy. The sky was heavy, and a gross fog was all over the place. Emma could hardly remember drifting off to sleep. When she finally woke up, the world outside was dull and blurry because of the thick mist hanging all over the city. It matched how she felt – like everything was gray, unsure, and just too much.

Then, someone knocked lightly on the door. Emma jumped, and her heart went crazy fast. For a second, she hoped it was someone offering her a way out of this mess. But it was the same lady who had brought her dinner the night before, she looked like she was in her 50s.

"Morning, Miss Emma", the lady said quietly, putting a tray with some food on the table. Mr. Blackwood said you need to get ready; he wants you ready in about an hour.

Emma swallowed hard. Ready for what?

The lady paused for a second, and it looked like she felt sorry for Emma. He didn't tell me, hon. But there's a dress in the wardrobe for you. He wants you to wear it.

Emma stopped herself from saying something snarky and just nodded. As soon as the door closed, she walked over to the wardrobe and opened it up. Inside, there was this dark green dress – nice and sleek, simple, but expensive. It wasn't something she'd ever wear. It just wasn't her. It was all about the image Damien Blackwood wanted other people to see.

She jumped in the shower and got dressed super-fast, trying not to think about what was coming. When she checked herself out in the mirror, she could barely recognize herself. The girl staring back looked all done up, almost pretty, but empty inside. Emma made herself stand up straight.

About an hour later, Damien showed up. Like always, he was dressed perfectly. His sharp eyes looked her up and down, judging. You clean up nice, he said, kind of cold.

Where are we going? she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

He just gave her this annoying half-smile that told her nothing. You'll see.

The car ride was quiet. All the tall buildings in the city went by in a blur as Emma stared out the tinted windows. Each one made her think about how different her life was now.

They pulled up to a fancy restaurant hidden in one of the tallest buildings. Inside, everyone was talking quietly, glasses were clinking, and people were doing deals while pretending to be nice. Emma felt like she didn't belong there at all, but she lifted her head and followed Damien.

There was already a guy waiting at the table – looked like he was in his mid-50s, dressed really well, and had this fake charm that didn't reach his eyes. Damien shook his hand firmly.

Emma, this is Victor Hale, Damien said. Victor, this is my fiancée.

Emma's stomach dropped. She made herself smile politely as Victor took her hand.

It's a pleasure, Victor said smoothly. Damien talks about you all the time.

Emma doubted that for sure.

The lunch was all about putting on a show. Damien and Victor were talking in a way that was hard to understand, discussing deals and stuff. Emma figured out pretty fast that she was just there as a prop. She was just a sign, a fake picture of a happy home so Damien could get what he wanted.

At one point, Victor leaned in close to her. You know, you're a lucky woman. A man like Damien doesn't come around twice.

Emma smiled tightly. I'm starting to get that feeling.

When the meal was finally over, Damien didn't even ask if she wanted to leave. He just stood up, put his hand on her lower back like she belonged to him, and led her out.

Back in the car, she stayed quiet for as long as she could, but then she snapped. Was that it? Am I just part of some business thing?

Damien glanced at her. Everything is a strategy, Emma. You should know that.

I'm not your pawn, she said, almost whispering.

He didn't say anything. But he grabbed her hand, and his grip was tight and wouldn't let go. No, you're my queen. And you're going to do what you're supposed to do.

Emma's heart was pounding as the city closed in around them. The feeling of being trapped was heavier than ever.