The Billionaire's forbidden daughter

Chapter 4

EMMA

I swallowed hard.

Father had just asked me if I was ready. After all the weeks of etiquette and deportment lessons, I still didn't think I was ready yet.

This was father's idea. A party thrown in my honour to announce to the world that I was his daughter.

If I blew this-

"Yes," I forced myself to say the flashbulbs of paparazzi cameras went off yet again in our faces.

"...Ethan and his long lost daughter, Emma Cole," the announcer was saying as the double doors in front of us opened.

There was a rush of light and sound as hundreds of eyes turned towards us. For half a second, my steps faltered before I forced myself forward.

"Don't forget to smile," father said under his breath.

I smiled and waved the way I had been taught. As we walked together to the podium, the applause grew louder.

"It's her!" I clearly heard a woman say to her neighbour as we passed. "I heard her mother was just a-"

Thankfully, I didn't get to hear more because father's hand was on the small of my back, urging me forward.

The applause swelled, died down. Father, beaming, took the stage.

During his speech, was very careful not to give too many details about how we had been separated in the first place.

My eyes flicked to the side. Victoria sat with a few elderly women at one of the tables in front. She was perfectly composed, watching, unsmiling.

I wondered what her aristocratic friends would say if they found out what she had done all those years ago. Then again, I supposed people in her circle would do the same. Or even worse.

Father said something funny. The crowd laughed. He raised a toast.

"Everyone," Veronica's suddenly ang out, cutting cleanly through the room. "I am sure my granddaughterh has a few words to you all. Don't you, Emma."

I froze. Giving a speech had not been part of the plan. What was grandmother playing at?

Our eyes met then and I knew. This was a challenge. Her challenge.

Perhaps she wanted to show to her son and everyone that the daughter of a maid didn't belong in her world.

Father forced a smile and beckoned me on-stage. Heart pounding, mouth dry, I climbed the few steps to reach the microphone. Dragging in a breath, I opened my mouth.

And for one terrifying second, my mind went completely blank.

Then I saw Marcus at the back of the crowd, looking handsome, but a little uncomfortable in a smart suit, give me a thumbs up.

I smiled and began to speak. About finding family. About second chances. It got easier the longer I talked and when I was done, the applause was deafening.

As I stepped off the stage, I felt almost giddy with relief. So

The party resumed around me. Father introduced me to several of the guests, his friends. When he left for a while to take a call, a group of people approached me.

"Congratulations," said on of them.

"That was a moving speech you gave back there," said another.

"Ever considered a career in public speaking?"

I blinked. "Umm... I-"

"Oh don't be silly, Arnold," a beautifully dressed woman interrupted with a laugh. "Of course she'll be running her father's company. Won't you, dear?"

All eyes turned in my direction.

"Um- excuse me," I said quickly. "I need your use the restroom."

I slipped outside instead. I needed space and air. The questions... the attention it was all too much, too soon.

I turned my face up to the night sky dotted with stars, closed my eyes and breathed in deeply.

"You handled that surprisingly well... Emma."

The voice came from behind me.

I turned to see a young man, dressed in a tux of midnight blue, leaning against the wall, arms crossed around his chest, watching me.

He was smiling. The smile did not reach his eyes.

"Thank you," I said carefully.

He straightened, took a step forward.

"Richard Nelson," he said, extending a hand which I shook. Again that slightly mocking smile appeared. "I'm the son of Wilbur Nelson, the oil magnate. But of course you don't know that. You just recently became rich, didn't you?"

Slowly and deliberately, Richard took out a handkerchief, carefully wiped the hand I had shaken as though it was infested with germs. He pocketed the handkerchief, looking at me all the while.

There was a long, awkward pause.

I muttered something about having to get back inside.

Richard moved slightly, blocking my path.

"Oh don't run away," he drawled, tilting his head as he studied me. "We are just getting to getting to know each other, aren't we? Tell me, Emma Cole, how does it feel wearing that outfit that costs thousands, mingling with people who hold real power and all the while pretending to belong somewhere you obviously weren't raised for? I'm really curious, you know. People like us who come from old money can't relate. Seriously, don't you feel like an imposter?"

His words git me like a slap. I felt the blood rush to my face.

A few people who had come out for some fresh air were hanging around, watching and listening

"I'm not pretending," I retorted. He chuckled softly. "I belong here. This is my party and if you don't behave, Mr Nelson-"

"You'll what? Call your daddy to throw me out?"

A few quiet laughs rippled nearby. My throat burned. My fingers curled.

I could feel my control slipping. My hands were itching to slap him and wipe that smirk off his face.

Glancing down, he saw my balled fists and laughed quietly.

"Trust me, you don't want to try that sweetheart," he said.

Swaying slightly, he stepped so close I could smell the booze on his breath.

"You've got pretty hands though," he whispered in my ear. "We could go somewhere private and you could wrap them around my c**k instead. You look like you've done that sort of thing in your past life or a few measly dollars."

Heat rushed up my neck, into my face. Pure blinding rage surged through me. I was raising my hands to hit this rich, perfumed asshole and damn the consequences when a voice, quiet but commanding said, "That's enough, Mister."

Richard recoiled and blinked at the stranger.

"And who the hell are you?" he demanded roughly.

"Someone who sees that you're bothering the lady," the man behind me said. "You seem to have had too much to drink. How about you go back inside before you really embarrass yourself."

Richard flushed an ugly, dusky red.

"And if I don't?" he demanded hotly.

I felt rather than saw the stranger take a step forward. He said nothing more, but the threat in his stance was obvious.

Richard glared, glanced around, sized up the stranger. Apparently decided this was a fight he couldn't win, he turned and walked away, cursing under his breath.

I took a deep, steadying breath, and turned. The words "thank you" died on my lips because- holy crow- the young, tall, broad shouldered blond man standing in front of me was as handsome as a movie star.

A pair of intense dark eyes stared deeply into mine and I thought- or maybe it was my imagination- that he was at a loss for words as I was.

Then he smiled, showing perfect white teeth.

"Hello, Miss Cole," he said softly, breaking the silence, his big, warm hand slipping into mine for a handshake. "I'm Jayden. Jayden Brooks."