Sophia’s POV
I did not go home that night.
I went back to Emily.
Back to the only place that felt steady.
She was in the kitchen when I walked in, barefoot, hair tied up, reading something on her tablet like the empire she would one day inherit did not exist. Like she was just Emily Cole, my best friend. The girl who lost both her parents in a private jet crash at nineteen and inherited a multi billion conglomerate before she even learned how to grieve properly.
She looked up the moment she saw my face.
“You saw him.”
It was not a question.
“Yes.”
She placed the tablet down slowly. “And?”
I folded my arms. Not because I was cold. Because I felt exposed.
“Why did you make me go?” I asked.
Her brows furrowed slightly. “I didn’t make you.”
“You encouraged it.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
