Chapter 2

Mark stared at me, his jaw tight. The confident smirk he wore just moments before had vanished, replaced by a look of profound confusion. He was trying to read me, to understand the angle I was playing, but for the first time since I' d known him, he was at a complete loss. My calm compliance was a weapon he hadn't anticipated.

"Sarah, what are you talking about?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

"I'm talking about being welcoming," I replied smoothly, my gaze sweeping over Emily. "You brought a guest home. It's only polite."

Emily, for her part, looked equally surprised. She had clearly prepared for a confrontation, for a tearful, hysterical wife she could easily dismiss. My placid acceptance threw her off balance. She offered a tight, uncertain smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sarah," she said.

"The pleasure is all mine," I lied.

Later, I excused myself and went to my study. The moment the door closed behind me, the mask I was wearing fell away. I leaned against the heavy oak paneling, my breath catching in my throat. The memory of my lost child, a phantom ache in my womb, was a constant, throbbing pain. I remembered the little clothes I had bought, the room I had prepared. The future he had stolen. The hate was a fire in my veins, burning away any trace of the woman I used to be. This wasn't just about business anymore. This was about vengeance for a life that never got to be.

Downstairs, the family dinner was a tense affair. My grandfather sat at the head of the table, his face like stone. He was a traditional man, a patriarch who valued lineage and reputation above all else. He didn't like surprises, and he certainly didn't like the sight of Emily sitting at his table.

"So, Miss..." my grandfather began, his voice dangerously soft. "Emily, was it? What is it that you do?"

"I'm in finance, Mr. Vance," Emily said, trying to sound respectful. "Corporate acquisitions."

"A corporate raider, then," my grandfather stated, not asked. He took a slow sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving her face. "And what business do you have with my grandson?"

The air grew thick with tension. Mark, ever the fool, chose that moment to make his grand, idiotic stand. He slammed his hand on the table, making the silverware jump.

"Emily is with me, Grandfather! I love her!" he declared, his voice ringing with misplaced passion. "And if this family won't accept her, then I don't want to be a part of it! I'll leave Vance Construction, I'll leave this house, I'll leave everything!"

My grandfather' s face turned a shade of deep crimson. He rose slowly from his chair, his towering frame casting a long shadow over the table. The authority he commanded was absolute, and Mark had just spat in its face.

"You would throw away your birthright?" my grandfather thundered. "Your legacy? For this... woman you just met?"

"She's more loyal to me than anyone in this room has ever been!" Mark shot back, his eyes flicking to me for a brief, hateful moment.

He thought he was in control. He thought his knowledge of our shared past gave him the upper hand. After dinner, he cornered me in the hallway, his fingers digging into my arm.

"I don't know what game you're playing, Sarah, but you will accept Emily," he hissed, his face close to mine. "You will be polite, you will be civil, and you will not cause any trouble. Do you understand me? If you try to ruin this for me, I'll make sure you have nothing. I did it once, I can do it again."

I looked at his hand on my arm, then back up at his face. The fear he expected to see wasn't there. There was only a cold, empty pity.

"Don't worry, Mark," I said, pulling my arm free from his grasp. "I won't ruin a thing."

I was going to let him ruin himself.