img Emma Russell: The Woman Reborn  /  Chapter 2 | 20.00%
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Chapter 2

Word Count: 1093    |    Released on: 15/12/2025

approached the detached cottage at the edge of Cole' s sprawling estate.

a cold, synthesiz

d already changed the co

' t wearing the sapphire pendant now, but a silk robe, one of mine. The blush-pink one I loved. It clung t

Cole lock you out? He can be so dramatic sometimes. Don't worry,

nce a cozy retreat for visitors, had been transformed. My books, my art, my personal touches – gone. Britney' s bright, garish

life, reduced to an undignified heap. Above them, on a pristine white shelf, were Britney' s

ugh my thoughts. "What'

lder. He ran a hand through his damp hair. His eyes, when they landed on me, w

chest. "Oh, Cole, Emma's just... she's upset. She saw my new robe, and I think she recog

e. "Emma, this is ridiculous. You're making a scene. Can't you just coll

t house, used for storage. A place I hadn't set foot in for y

he satisfaction of seeing me break. I met his cold gaze squarely. "Fi

ected an argument, tears, a fight. My calm response seemed to thro

en care of financially. A generous settlement. You won't have to worry about a thing." He g

like ash. My father's legacy, re

rising, an unfamiliar tremor in it. "You think you can buy

ring your father into this, E

aircase that led down to the cellar. I didn't spare them another glance. Their sho

high, grimy window. Old furniture draped in white sheets, forgotten boxes. My eyes scanned the shadows, searching.

ep my deepest secrets, Emma-bug," he'd said, his eyes twinkling. "Only you kno

old under my touch. The numbers, etched forever in my memory. My father's birthdate

ash. Just a thick, yellowed stack of documents, tied with a faded rib

iculous handwriting filled the margins. As I read, a cold, hard truth began to crystallize within me. The host

a tech visionary. He had orchestrated the downfall of David Russell's empire. He had used my father's trusted executive – Britney's father – to gain i

e had used my grief, my trust, to build his own empire on the ashes of my father's. Every tender wo

ver felt. It wasn't just betrayal. It was desecration. He didn't just steal my love;

ming my life. It was about te

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