Chapter 8

“We meet again.”

Startled by the sudden voice from beside her ear, Emma stumbled back by instinct making her trip onto the air and fall backward.

Resigning to her fate, Emma shut her eyes tight, waiting for the impact of the hard, cold ground on her butt but was confused as it never came, instead, there was a pleasantly, familiar pressure on her waist.

Peeking her eyes open, her eyes clashed with Christopher’s ocean blue eyes full of mirth.

“Though is it an extreme honor. I can’t have you falling for me left and right, I don’t want such a pretty lady to get hurt.”

“Thanks for the save and it is Madam, not Lady.”

Emma still cool as cucumber answered in a calm, measured voice, a complete contrast to the rampage of elephants inside her stomach and the sprint her heart was currently running.

“Oh? I thought I was here to deliver your divorce papers.”

Christopher chuckled softly as he handed her the manila envelope he had been holding onto all this time.

“Did Howard Corporation go bankrupt when you joined Grayson’s as an errand boy?”

Emma asked as she took hold of the manila envelope, careful not to touch him again, even accidentally.

Her waist where he held her just now to save her from a nasty fall, still seemed to be on fire even with the biting cold winter night breeze.

“You’d prefer that?”

Christopher teased her with a cheeky smile, as Emma looked at him just as disinterested as she did in the past.

“I’d prefer we never cross paths. Goodnight Mr. Howard”

Emma answered, as she turned back and walked into the Watson Mansion’s gates, motioning the guards to close it behind her.

Whereas, Christopher looked at her retreating with a playful smirk.

Call him a masochist, but he liked it when a woman challenged him, especially if that was 5”6, soft body of curves at the right places, and luscious black hair.

Though he noticed, that the years had dulled her charm, and her waist had lost some weight, making it more bony than before, yet she couldn’t be called average, as her charm was her wit and serene temperament.

Unmoved and steady like a mountain, soft and docile like the spring clouds, but too bad it wasn’t his type.

Most people his age would want a woman like her, the perfect wife material but he wanted a sharp woman with loads of sass.

He wanted a Queen.

The one who was capable enough to rule beside him.

“Get in lover boy. Any later Ry will throw a tantrum.”

Richard's voice came through, as the passenger seat’s window rolled down, revealing his face with a playful smirk on his lips.

“That is if he is alive till then.”

Royce sighed from the backseat as if already getting a headache from imagining the mess it was going to be by the time they reached the club.

It is a known fact that Ryan Monroe and Rose Stark cannot stand each other’s presence even for a moment.

Even when all the high society is busy playing the amiable and easy-to-get-along persona, they can’t smile at each other even for the sake of curtsy or cameras, that is how bad it is between them.

********************

Meanwhile, Emma returned to the dining table, to find the monther-son duo fussing around Stella, where the former was being too obvious, the latter was more restrained in his care.

The scene might’ve hurt her a few hours ago but now that she had removed her rose-tinted glasses, the picture was clearer with the fact that she was a certified fool.

“Emma, the detox drink you made this morning was good dear. Can you please continue to do the same for me?”

Mr. Watson, softly asked Emma as she took her seat beside him, now that Stella had conveniently moved her seat to Shayne’s right and in front of Madam Watson.

“Sure, Mr. Watson.”

Emma agreed with a polite nod. Unlike Madam Watson, Mr. Watson shared a cordial relationship with her.

Of course, he was not happy with the idea of a working-class family’s girl marrying into his family but it was nothing personal against Emma.

And with time he had grown accustomed to having her around, in fact, he preferred her managing the household affairs than Madam Watson.

After the brief conversation, Emma went back to having her dinner, whereas a certain pair of eyes were trained on her, trying to understand her reaction to having Stella in her place.

Indeed, it wasn’t a big deal but given the history between Stella and Shayne, any woman in Emma’s place would’ve been uncomfortable despite the trust they shared, which is why Emma’s unperturbed attitude intrigued Spade even more.

Spade had long gotten accustomed to Emma’s wallflower personality, but such resilience and patience surprised and disturbed him.

The dinner was a peaceful affair, except for the continuous chatter of Madam Watson and Stella.

After dinner, Emma as usual wrapped up the kitchen and walked up the stairs, only to be caught off-guard by Spade’s presence near the First floor’s staircase.

“Do you need something, Spade?”

“Are you simply letting it slide?”

“I don’t quite understand what you are asking about?”

Emma genuinely asked as she was confused by his abrupt question.

Spade was someone who couldn’t be bothered with anything which isn’t directly related to him, so his question was rather confusing.

“I’m talking about that woman.”

“Stella? What about her?”

“Drop the act.”

“Spade, I’m unsure about your expectation here.”

“You know Stella’s arrival here isn’t simply moving to the country and still you’re doing nothing.”

“Spade… Sometimes it is better to let go than to hold onto something, at least it will save you some hurt.”

Emma smiled softly, before continuing on her way upstairs leaving Spade to his thoughts.

Entering their shared bedroom, she found Shayne sitting on the couch going through something on his laptop.

Placing the water bottle she brought on the nightstand, she quietly made her way to the walk-in closet.

“When are you leaving?”

Shayne’s cold voice came from behind, making her pause momentarily before moving in.

“Before tomorrow’s sunrise.”