The Two-Faced Lady Who Stole My Heart

Standing before the imposing door of a presidential suite, Emma Bradley glanced down at the room number displayed on her phone. Confirming it matched the one engraved on the door, she hesitated briefly before extending her hand to knock.

However, as her fingers landed on the door, it swung open of its own accord.

Surveying the spacious suite, Emma found it eerily vacant, illuminated by dim lighting.

"Nobody's here?" she murmured, a furrow forming on her brow.

When she turned around to leave, her gaze fell upon the file clutched in her hand.

Remembering her father's instructions over the phone to deliver it, she hesitated for a moment before deciding to proceed into the suite.

Barely had she stepped across the threshold when a peculiar fragrance assailed her senses. Before she could react, the door behind her slammed shut with a resounding thud. Startled, Emma whirled around, only to find herself ensnared in the embrace of a pair of strong arms, pulling her close.

"Who are you?" Emma demanded, her voice tinged with apprehension as she struggled against the unfamiliar grasp. But her efforts were feeble, and a wave of dizziness washed over her.

In a haze, she felt the press of lips against hers.

Pressed firmly against the wall, her hand unexpectedly brushed against a switch, plunging the entire suite into darkness with a single flick.

Silenced by the man's kiss, she couldn't make a sound.

Heat surged through her, surrendering her to a whirlwind of passion as she lost all semblance of control. She soon mirrored the impatience of the man trapping her.

Their lips locked, their bodies intertwined in a frenzy of desire. Before they could reach the bedroom, they succumbed to each other's touch on the living room floor. They melded together repeatedly, their passion knowing no bounds.

Morning dawned, and Emma struggled to rouse herself, her body drenched in a cold sweat.

"Thankfully, it was just a dream..." she murmured.

However, her relief was short-lived as a sense of unease washed over her.

Turning her head slowly, her gaze fell upon a handsome face.

As her shock subsided, she realized that the man lying beside her was completely naked.

To her surprise, there was an automatic wheelchair beside the bed.

Last night's escapade wasn't a dream! It was real! She had slept with an attractive yet disabled stranger!

Her thoughts were a mess; she wasn't mentally prepared for the aftermath.

As the man's eyelashes fluttered, hinting at waking up, panic surged through Emma. Acting on instinct, she hastily grabbed her scattered clothes, put them on, and made a swift exit through the window.

On the way home, Emma gradually regained composure and couldn't help but feel that something wasn't right.

She had been sent to deliver a file by her father. Yet upon arrival, she was drugged and later found herself entwined with a stranger.

The odds of such a coincidence seemed quite unfathomable to her.

Emma couldn't shake the feeling that her father was somehow involved.

Caught in a deeply humiliating situation, she grappled with the realization that her own father had effectively sold her to an unknown man.

Emma couldn't fathom the reason behind his actions and felt sad.

Lost in thought on her journey home, Emma felt disconnected from her surroundings. As soon as she stepped into the house, she was met with an unexpected sting as her mother, Suzanne Bradley, delivered a sharp slap across her face.

Emma winced, her cheeks ablaze with pain.

"Where have you been? Why have you returned at this time?" Suzanne's cold stare bore into Emma, the contempt in her eyes slicing through like a sharp blade. "How did you get those hickeys on your neck? If I had known you were a slut, I wouldn't have bothered bringing you back from the countryside. It's utterly disgraceful."

Emma brushed off Suzanne's words, turning her attention to her father Shawn Bradley with a cold stare. "Why bother asking me? It was Dad who tasked me with delivering the file. Didn't he arrange everything?"

She scrutinized Shawn's face intently, not wanting any change in his expression to escape her.

When she saw the unmistakable guilt etched on his features, fury surged within her.

She also felt a wave of disappointment and heartache wash over her.

Emma had been trafficked at a tender age. Recently, her birth parents found her and brought her back to their home.

Initially, she had hoped for affection from her parents. However, upon her return, she discovered they had already adopted another girl her age, and realized there was no place for her in the family.

"Since things have already come to this, I have nothing to say." Shawn evaded her gaze and continued in a commanding voice, "Considering you have already been intimate with Ricky Johnson, why not marry him instead of Renee and seal the alliance between our families."

Emma's shock turned to realization as she connected the dots. The man she had been with last night was the "legendary" son of the Johnson family, who was rumored to have fathered a child out of wedlock.

Shawn and Suzanne were keen on ensuring their adopted daughter didn't end up with a disabled man. However, they didn't want to relinquish the fortune the Johnson family could bring them. Therefore, they brought her back from the countryside.

Under the relentless pressure from Shawn and Suzanne, Emma remained silent.

As they stood face to face, tension thick in the air, a servant hurried over to deliver some news.

"The Johnson family's car is here to pick up Miss Bradley!"

"Emma, you heard that, didn't you? The car has arrived!" Shawn's gaze bore down on Emma, laden with coercion.

Suzanne's anxiety was palpable as she noticed Emma's continued silence. Desperate to break it, she grabbed her arm and attempted to usher her towards the waiting car.

Feeling a sharp pang in her arm, Emma instinctively withdrew.

"I..."

Her words were interrupted by a servant's urgent cry from upstairs. "Miss Renee is attempting to commit suicide. You have to do something!"

Suzanne's expression twisted in distress at the news. Her eyes turned red as she gripped Emma's shoulders and asked, "Do you want your sister to kill herself? You can't be so heartless!"

The word "heartless" struck Emma deeply, though she had braced herself for it.

How absurd was it to be called heartless by her mother for refusing to sacrifice her happiness for a sister not even related by blood?

"Fine." Resignation colored her voice as she met Suzanne's gaze steadily. "I'll agree to the engagement on Renee's behalf. Are you satisfied now?"

Shawn and Suzanne exchanged surprised glances as they processed Emma's unexpected agreement. For a moment, they were rendered speechless by the turn of events.

"Emma, I knew you would do the right thing."

Finally regaining his composure, Shawn approached her with a hint of satisfaction. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, saying, "This could be for the best. Despite the rumors surrounding Ricky, his family is wealthy. You won't have to worry about anything."

If it was indeed for the best, why did he hesitate to let his adopted daughter wed that man?

But Emma kept her thoughts to herself, focusing instead on the card Shawn slipped into her hand.

"Dad, what is this for?"

"Just consider it a form of compensation," Shawn explained, assuming a facade of paternal kindness. "After all, you are also my daughter. It's only fitting that I arrange something special for you when you get married."

His tone was convincing but Emma didn't believe him.

As expected, Shawn swiftly changed the subject.

"Sweetheart, I need to remind you. Once you are married to Ricky, keep him happy. We can't afford for the engagement to fall apart. Your mom and I love you. We just want you to be happy."

Shawn kept saying he loved her, but his actions spoke otherwise. Instead of showing genuine concern, he urged her to secure her position within the Johnson family for his own benefit.

Emma nodded in apparent agreement.

Seeing the submissive expression on Emma's face pleased Shawn immensely. He hadn't anticipated how easily she could be manipulated. A smug glance exchanged with Suzanne confirmed his satisfaction.

"Enough talk. Let's escort you to the car."

Together, Shawn and Suzanne escorted Emma to the waiting car.

During the journey, Emma remained silent, her thoughts hidden behind a veil of indifference.

With a blank expression, she idly toyed with the card in her hand, a hint of scorn dancing in her eyes.

Little did Shawn and Suzanne know that Emma wouldn't allow them to achieve their selfish aims.

Meanwhile, in the hotel suite, Ricky awoke to a scene of disarray. His expression twisted into a mask of fury.

Summoning his assistant, Preston Ford, with a stern expression, he demanded answers. "Where is the woman who was in my room?"

"Sir, what do you mean? I'm confused." Preston looked puzzled.

As Ricky glanced toward the open window, realization dawned upon him. That woman had escaped!

"Damn it!" he muttered under his breath.

A slight pain in his shoulder triggered memories of the previous night.

He had been semiconscious at the time, and the dim lighting in the room had obscured the woman's features. All he could recall was the multitude of scratches and love bites she had left on him.

"Mr. Johnson, do you think she was sent to test your legs?" Preston asked anxiously.

Ricky's expression darkened at the suggestion. Someone had orchestrated an accident that had injured his legs, and despite his recovery, he had chosen to keep the truth hidden from the public.

"No, I don't believe she discovered anything," Ricky replied grimly.

Though he had struggled to contain himself, his remaining sanity urged him to rein in his impulses.

But what mattered was that last night, his fingers brushed over an familiar scar once more.

It was really her, the woman from six years ago!

At last, she had appeared.

"Track down this woman for me, even if it means scouring every inch of this city!"

As soon as the words left his lips, his phone, resting on the floor, buzzed.

Preston picked it up and passed it to him. "It's your father."

Dominic Johnson's voice crackled through the phone when Ricky answered.

"Ricky, where are you? I have arranged for someone to pick up Miss Bradley. She is on her way here. Come back home. We need to discuss the engagement."

"Understood." Ricky's expression soured as he ended the call.

The Bradley family and the Johnson family had arranged an engagement, but he harbored a strong aversion towards the former. He saw them as mere sycophants, and he held a particular disdain for his supposed fiancée. Hence, he had vehemently opposed the engagement.

He couldn't understand his father's insistence on the match. How could he be blind to the Bradley family's true intentions?

Unable to sway his father, Ricky resolved to take matters into his own hands, starting with that Bradley lady!

The car pulled up outside the Johnson family's residence. Guided by a servant, Emma stepped into the welcoming glow of their living room.

"Please, have a seat," a servant said, offering Emma a cup of coffee with a respectful demeanor.

Emma nodded, her demeanor cautious as she surveyed her surroundings. When she was about to sip the coffee, a middle-aged man in a crisp tuxedo approached.

"Ah, you must be Miss Emma Bradley. Delighted to make your acquaintance. I'm Alfred, the butler. Please follow me. Mr. Ricky Johnson would like to see you."

Ricky wanted to see her? Emma's mind raced for a moment before she composed herself. Setting down the cup, she followed Alfred upstairs.

The realization that she had shared a night with Ricky last night struck her, and considering his disability, it was probably her who made the first move. This made her nerves flutter.

It was said that Ricky had changed since he became disabled. If he recognized her, the consequences could be dire.

But she couldn't flee from this situation. She had to stay in the Johnson residence. Therefore, she had to be clever and resourceful.

Upon reaching the open door of the study on the second floor, Emma saw Ricky seated in his wheelchair, his back to her.

"You are here," he said, his voice cutting through the silence.

As soon as Emma heard his voice, she felt her cheeks flush.

When Ricky swiveled the wheelchair around, revealing his handsome face, her heart began to race wildly.

"Miss Bradley, let's cut to the chase. As you can see, I'm disabled and unable to consummate our marriage. If money is all you are after, save your breath. You and your family won't be getting anything from me. To me, you are just like a maid hired by my father."

Ricky's expression was cold, and his words were cutting.

Emma had prepared herself mentally, so she remained composed and felt relief wash over her when she realized he didn't recognize her.

When she heard the words "consummate our marriage", Emma's gaze flicked down to his crotch involuntarily.

The intense passion from last night still lingered in her mind. She was certain he was more than capable.

Ricky was caught off guard by her reaction. He assumed she was still clinging to hope, and his expression darkened even more.

"You know where I stand. I'm formally proposing we call off the engagement."

"What?" Emma immediately came back to her senses. She exclaimed, "I refuse!"

Seeing the disdain in his eyes, she explained, "Mr. Johnson, our two families have been close for generations. Even with your disability, I intend to honor that engagement. It's my duty."

Duty?

Ricky scoffed, unconvinced by her words.

He speculated that her parents might have urged her to do whatever it took to secure her place in his family for the benefits it offered.

"I have made it clear that I won't marry you. If you insist, the only position available to you is that of my son's nanny."

Ricky had assumed that anyone with a shred of self-respect would call off the engagement after such humiliation.

To his astonishment, Emma nodded without hesitation. "Alright, I agree."

Her resolute response caught him off guard again.

It seemed like she was willing to go to great lengths to achieve her goal.

His opinion of her sank even lower. He couldn't possibly keep a woman like her by his side, yet if he sent her away, his father would object.

An idea suddenly struck Ricky. He added, "I have another condition. Not just anyone can serve as my son's nanny. If you can coax him out of his room within a day, I'll allow you to stay."

"Is that all?" Emma asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

She had anticipated a more challenging demand, but this seemed remarkably easy.

"Yes."

Seeing her take the bait, Ricky's mood lifted slightly. Perhaps this woman had no idea what she was in for.

He looked at the butler and ordered with a sneer, "Take her to Kyson."

"Yes, sir."

The butler bowed courteously and accepted the order, then gestured for Emma to follow him down the corridor to the room at the far end of the second floor. Stepping back, he said, "He is inside."

Emma couldn't help but sense that something wasn't quite right. However, she brushed it off, assuming it was just her imagination. With that thought in mind, she proceeded to knock on the door.

"Kyson? Mind if I come in?"

Silence greeted her query, no sounds emanating from behind the door.

"Well, if you don't say anything, I'll take that as a yes," she said lightly, but still, no response came from the other side of the door. Resolving to proceed, Emma reached for the handle.

Before she could fully open the door, something struck her forehead with a surprising force.

Momentarily stunned, she touched her forehead gingerly, feeling a dull ache. Her gaze fell to the floor, where she saw a beetle toy.

Before she could fully gather her wits, another toy hurtled towards her. Reacting quickly, she dodged out of the way, but more toys followed in rapid succession. Forced to retreat, she hastily closed the door to catch her breath.

Seeing Emma's embarrassed expression, the butler shook his head with a hint of disdain.

He couldn't help but assume that she was just another woman trying to climb the ladder through the Johnson family. However, since Kyson had no intent to meet her, she couldn't stay if she failed the test.

Kyson was no ordinary child, after all. If he wished it, Emma wouldn't even catch a glimpse of his face today.