Emma barely slept. Her mind spun in a loop and Lila's message, Alexander's guarded behavior, the eerie way the night seemed to hum with secrets.
Morning sunlight crept into her room like an uninvited guest, too bright for the mood wrapped around her like a second skin. She pulled the sheets tighter around her, her gaze glued to the message still glowing on her phone screen.
Lila: Are you okay?? People are talking about you
Emma hadn't told her. No calls, no messages. Not even a single emoji. Yet Lila somehow knew.
Her fingers trembled as she typed.
Emma: How did you find out? I didn't say anything.
Three dots danced on the screen. Then stopped.
No reply.
Emma threw off the sheets, tugged on a robe, and padded over to the window. The city below buzzed with life cars, people, honking horns but she felt detached, like she was watching a world she no longer belonged to.
A soft knock at the door startled her.
"Emma?" came a gentle female voice.
She opened it to find a woman about her age, dressed in a chic beige suit, holding a clipboard and a polite smile. Her brunette hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail.
"I'm Marissa. Mr. Blackwood asked me to help you settle in. I'm your personal assistant."
Emma blinked. "I didn't ask for an assistant."
Marissa smiled. "Most people don't. But Mr. Blackwood insists. He said you might want to visit the house staff wing, see the library, or the garden today."
Emma hesitated. "Right. Okay. Um give me ten minutes?"
Marissa nodded. "I'll wait downstairs."
As the door shut, Emma muttered to herself, "This isn't real. This is a movie."
And yet, it was very real.
The morning passed in a blur of marbled hallways and unfamiliar faces. Staff greeted her with nervous smiles. She saw chefs preparing brunch in the kitchen, and a gardener who looked like he'd stepped out of a catalog, trimming roses with surgical precision.
But Emma couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on her. Whispers seemed to follow wherever she went.
After lunch, Marissa excused herself, saying she had to "check on some deliveries."
Emma seized the moment to call Lila.
No answer.
She tried again.
Still nothing.
With every unanswered ring, her chest grew tighter. Something wasn't right. Her best friend never ignored her calls especially not after a message like that.
Back in her room, Emma scrolled through her old photo gallery, stopping at one from just a few weeks ago: her and Lila in their café uniforms, mid-laugh, flour on their faces.
Tears welled in her eyes. She missed that life. The chaos. The smell of cinnamon. The sound of the bell above the café door.
She missed knowing who she was.
And now? She was Mrs. Blackwood. A title that came with luxury and loneliness.
A knock again. This time more urgent.
She opened the door to Alexander.
"We need to talk," he said.
She blinked. "You're actually saying that?"
"I should have told you more. But there's a lot at stake. I didn't want to drag you deeper."
"You already have, Alexander," she replied, voice shaking. "Someone messaged me. They knew. I didn't tell anyone. Not even Lila."
His expression darkened.
"I have people looking into it. For now, stay close. Don't go out alone."
"Is someone following me?"
He didn't answer. "I'm trying to protect you. Just trust me, Emma."
She wanted to scream. Instead, she whispered, "That would be easier if I knew what I was being protected from."
That evening, Emma sat in the grand piano room, her fingers dancing over the keys in no particular rhythm. Music had always helped her think.
She didn't hear him come in, but she felt his presence Alexander, watching her from the doorway.
"You play?" he asked.
"A little," she said, not looking up.
He stepped closer. "I used to sit by the piano when my mom played. She died when I was ten."
The vulnerability in his voice startled her. She glanced at him. He wasn't wearing his usual armor of sarcasm and control.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
They stood in silence for a long moment, a shared wound lingering in the air.
"Why me, Alexander?" she asked suddenly. "Why this marriage?"
His jaw clenched. "Because I needed someone I could trust not to betray me."
"You don't even know me."
"But I knew them. Everyone else wanted something. Money, status, favors. You, you just wanted your quiet life."
"I still do," she whispered.
"I know you're upset. I saw your face at dinner. And I can't blame you." He took a deep breath. "But there's something you should know."
Emma folded her arms, wary. "Go on."
"I didn't bring you here to trap you," he began. "You weren't supposed to be dragged into any of this. But now… there are people watching. People who know things."
Her brows furrowed. "What does that mean?"
Alexander looked toward the window like he was expecting someone to be lurking outside. "Someone leaked information. About you. About the marriage. Probably to test me."
A chill ran down her spine.
"Wait," she whispered. "Lila texted me. She knows."
He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Then they've gotten to her."
Emma sat on the edge of the bed, her heart thudding. "Who are 'they'?"
"I'll explain. Soon. But for now, you need to lie low. Don't contact anyone. Not even family."
Too late.
As if on cue, her phone buzzed again.
Mom: Emma, your father is worried. You haven't called. Please let us know you're okay.
Tears pricked her eyes. She hadn't thought about her family since the whirlwind started. Her mom, always so gentle. Her dad, distant but caring. Her younger brother, Jonah, who used to sneak into her bed during thunderstorms.
"I can't just disappear," she whispered. "They'll be worried."
Alexander's jaw clenched. "You'll have to trust me. The more you talk, the more you put them in danger."
Emma looked up at him. "Danger from what?"
But he didn't answer.
He looked at her like he wanted to say something more, but his phone buzzed. He read the screen, lips tightening.
"I have to go."
And just like that, he was gone again.
Later that night, she sat curled under the covers, staring at the ceiling. The soft hum of the city buzzed in the distance, but the real storm was within her. Emma sat in bed, scrolling social media mindlessly when her phone buzzed with a new message.
Unknown Number: You married a Blackwood. That comes with enemies. Watch your back.
Her heart dropped.
She wasn't just in over her head.
She might be in danger.