Chapter 2
Emma flinched.
I felt it.
And that small movement told me more than Jennifer's entire explanation.
I turned to Emma.
“Is that true?”
She stared at the ground.
Jennifer immediately interrupted.
“Daniel, she's just tired. Don't make a big deal out of—”
“I wasn't speaking to you.”
Jennifer went silent.
I gently lifted Emma's chin.
“Sweetheart, look at me.”
Her eyes were red.
“Did you want to do this?”
She shook her head.
One tiny movement.
But it was enough.
I turned toward my sister.
“Go inside.”
Jennifer blinked.
“What?”
“Go inside. Tell everyone the party is over.”
She laughed nervously.
“Daniel, you're overreacting.”
I stepped closer.
“Jennifer, you have exactly thirty seconds to do what I said.”
For the first time in her life, my sister looked frightened of me.
She hurried toward the house.
I turned back to Emma.
And only then did I notice the faded bruise around her wrist.
My voice dropped.
“Who did that?”
Emma quickly pulled down her sleeve.
“It's nothing.”
I stared at her.
“Emma.”
Her lips trembled.
“Please, Daniel. Not here.”
Something inside me broke.
Because the woman I loved wasn't just exhausted.
She was afraid.
And somehow, in the house I had bought to make her happy, fear had become her daily companion.
CHAPTER 3 — THE DINNER TABLE OF LIARS
I walked into the dining room holding Emma's hand.
The music was still playing.
Guests were laughing.
My mother was showing off a diamond bracelet while Michael poured another expensive bottle of champagne.
Then someone spotted me.
“Daniel?”
The room went silent.
My mother's expression changed instantly.
“My baby!”
Margaret rushed toward me with her arms open.
I didn't move.
She stopped just short of embracing me.
“Why didn't you tell us you were coming?”
“I wanted to surprise my wife.”
My eyes moved around the room.
“Instead, I got the surprise.”
Michael laughed.
“Come on, big brother! Don't tell me you're upset about a little party.”
I looked at the long dining table.
Imported seafood.
Luxury champagne.
Enough food to feed a hundred families.
“Who's paying for this?”
Michael grinned.
“Well, technically, you are.”
Several guests chuckled.
I didn't.
My mother touched my arm.
“Daniel, darling, you've always been so generous. We were simply celebrating the family's success.”
I turned toward her.
“Where's Emma's place at the table?”
Margaret blinked.
“What?”
“Her chair. Where is it?”
She glanced toward Jennifer.