On Monday morning, I was in my room at Eleanor's Mansion, getting dressed to go to the office. I had made the decision to spend the night at my mother's residence as her comforting words provided me solace and allowed me to regain my strength. This was necessary, especially since I had to maintain my brave facade despite what happened on Saturday night. A voice note came through on my phone, and Eleanor's voice reverberated in the room. "Bran, tune in to the cable News Web. It looks like your friend talked to the press last night about his recent findings on his missing daughter, and it was just announced as the next upcoming program," Eleanor said with excitement in her voice. I wondered why Samuel didn't call me to share the progress with me last night when he knew I was searching for Emma too. I quickly picked up the phone and, through the exit that was in my closet, rushed down to the main sitting room and tuned in to the Cable News. On the channel's Breakfast Bulletin, a progr

Emma's narrative Coming out of the room where Rachel had held me captive for months was a monumental breakthrough for me, and I vowed that no one would ever confine me like that again.I glanced at Jake, one of Brandon's bodyguards that stood a few feet away, holding a phone to his ear. After a few minutes, Jake strolled over to the car I was in and rapped his fist on the window. Slowly, the window rolled down."I ain't going back to that estate. I want my son"! I reiterated what I had told them as soon as we arrived at the estate gate, prompting the chauffeur to pull over by the roadside."Take it easy, ma'am. I just called the boss. He said I should bring you to where he is," Jake said."Where's he at?" I asked nonchalantly."He's at Eleanor's mansion," Jake responded and motioned to the chauffeur."Please, turn around. The boss said we should take her to Eleanor's mansion," the bodyguard instructed, and the car began to turn."What about my son?" I inquired."Your son is at Eleano

I couldn't believe Rachel pulled that stunt in front of Brandon's bodyguards. I kept watching, waiting to see how Brandon would react. "Rachel, go home and wait for me. We'll talk when I get there," Brandon said, his tone surprisingly calm this time. "Brandon... please..." "Just go home," Brandon replied. "Can I take Julian?" Rachel asked. I tensed up, ready to intervene if Brandon actually agreed to her request. "No! Go home. We need to have a serious conversation tonight," Brandon said, hopping into the car. The chauffeur drove away immediately. Rachel stood frozen for a moment, staring at him. I noticed she appeared strangely calm, as if she was scared or something. She also seemed defeated. After a few minutes of standing there like a lost soul, she got into her car and drove off too. "Ma'am, you need to shower and get dressed. Your flight leaves at eight," the maid who had shown me to the room said. I headed straight to the bathroom and enjoyed a long, relaxing shower. The

Brandon's gaze slowly narrowed dangerously as our eyes remained locked. "I know my wife is your enemy and you want nothing more than to destroy her reputation, just like you did to mine! Stop spreading lies about her. Nobody knows her better than me. Going around telling people she's part of the Phoenix Brigade is not gonna fly!" "Brandon!" Eleanor yelled at her son, and my lips tightened as I stood up while Brandon turned to leave the room. "Brandon, I'm sorry for sneakin' into your bedroom on your fake wedding night. Please find it in your heart to forgive me. By the way, have you seen Susan, one of your workers whose grandchild got kidnapped ten months ago?" I asked. "She was found dead at his estate gate ten months ago," Eleanor quickly replied. "Why are you asking about her? You wanna ruin her reputation too?" Brandon asked, not bothering to look at me. As he continued walking away, my question stopped him once again. "What about her grandchild?" I asked, my voice breaking w

Emma's Narrative I was drying my long, blonde hair with a hand dryer after my bath. The white towel I had tied around myself barely covered my round bottom. Suddenly, a familiar scent filled the entire room - a nostalgic aroma of Swedish caviar. I turned my head and saw Brandon staring at me. Our gazes locked, and my hand hung in the air.I called it a nostalgic scent because when I was a child, I used to eat it every morning. Brandon wouldn't stop making it for me before I went to school. When Brandon graduated and got a job as a school teacher, he would always make Swedish caviar for me before work. However, when he left Malmo, I avoided anything that reminded me of him, including eating Swedish caviar.Brandon critically scanned me and settled his gaze on my hair. If things had been the way they used to be between us, he would have taken the hand dryer from me to dry my hair. The only thing Brandon didn't do for me as an adult was bathe me. Otherwise, he did virtually everything