Chapter 4 Emery's POV

You know what's worse than being flat broke?

Using the last dollar in your wallet to barge into the headquarters of one of the most powerful companies in the city, only to get kicked out like a soggy piece of trash.

But hey, Emery never did anything halfway. If she was going to beg, she'd beg with flair.

"Miss, for the last time, you can't see Mr. Lancaster without an appointment."

Emery slapped both palms on the sleek marble counter, leaning forward like she was about to deliver the sermon of the century. "I don't need an appointment. What I need is two minutes of his time, my job back, and possibly a snack do you have snacks back there?"

The receptionist blinked. "Security."

"Ma'am, you're causing a disturbance."

"YOU'RE a disturbance," Emery muttered, just as two guards appeared. Before she could say anything else, she was politely but firmly escorted out the door, her shoes skidding against the overly polished floor like she was on an invisible ice rink.

And then she was outside.

No plan, no job, no ride and oh yes, her bank account was looking more lifeless than her houseplants.

"Great, brilliant plan, Emery, real smooth. You've officially joined the Dumb Decisions Committee. Chairwoman, actually."

The sky above her rumbled as if agreeing. She glanced up, praying the clouds weren't planning on ruining what was left of her dignity. She scrambled toward the parking lot, figuring it would at least give her a moment of shelter from the impending storm and possibly a place to cry in peace.

She hadn't expected to hear someone else crying.

A small sob caught her attention, soft and hiccuping.

Emery turned a corner between two fancy black cars and saw a tiny girl no more than four maybe, sitting on the pavement, a scraped knee, and the saddest face Emery had ever seen.

"Hey, hey, what's all this?" she whispered, crouching down immediately.

The little girl looked up with watery eyes. Her lip trembled. "My knee hurts... and I losted Dolly."

Emery's heart shattered on the spot. "Well, you will find Dolly again, and you know what else? That scrape? Battle wound. You're officially a warrior princess."

The girl sniffled. "Really?"

"Totally. I mean, I don't just tell anyone that. Only the bravest of the brave."

She dug through her tiny purse aka The Abyss and pulled out a crumpled tissue. Carefully, she dabbed at the scrape, adding ridiculous commentary: "Medical-grade unicorn paper. Very rare. Only works on tough little girls."

The girl giggled.

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Olive."

"Well, Olive, it is truly an honor to patch you up. I hereby grant you Princess Status. Your tiara's in the mail."

"Olly!"

A boy's voice echoed as he ran up, holding the dropped doll in his hand. He had the same soft curls and hazel eyes as Olive definitely siblings. Maybe even twins.

He handed the doll over. "You dropped her."

Emery clutched her heart. "Are you kidding me? Who authorized this level of cuteness? What are you two, a pair of walking Hallmark cards?"

The boy frowned, his arms crossing. "I'm Oliver. And we're not cards."

"No, you're absolutely not," Emery nodded solemnly. "You're limited edition collectibles."

The twins giggled, clearly warming up to her as they huddled close.

She ruffled Oliver's hair and winked. "Bet you're the protective big brother type, huh?"

"I'm older by four minutes," he declared proudly.

"Four very important minutes," Emery said, eyes wide.

They were so sweet, so bright, so full of life-and it pulled at something in her chest. She didn't even realize how much time passed until a sharp voice cut through the air like a whip.

"What the hell are you doing with my kids?"

Emery froze, the breath catching in her throat.

She turned her head slowly, and there he was.

Alexander Lancaster.

In the flesh. In a suit. Looking like a thundercloud in human form.

And glaring at her like she was enemy number one.