Chapter Three
1585 Words
"You disgrace!” With brute force, Rose pushed Emily toward the exit. “Go and ask for forgiveness from Jayden!”
Emily felt nothing but disdain towards the very person who had drugged her and given her to a stranger as a bedmate. “Let me go!”
“Go? Oh, you will be going straight to Jayden,” Olivia speaks and from deep within her voice, Emily could feel the venom. “This wedding happens tomorrow, or else.”
Emily was stunned by Rose's final push, which sent her stumbling. “Don’t come back until you fix this!” Rose's hand snapped out, clasping around Emily's neck and restricting her airways, causing stars to dot Emily's vision. Rose placed one final shove, which sent Emily crashing to the ground before slamming the door.
Collapsing against the door, Rose gasped as tears adorned her eyes. The smoke was agonizing her throat, and if she didn't get to work soon, she would come to lose her job. But she now found herself exhausted, freezing, starving, and locked out of her house. Her knuckles rapped faintly against the door. “Please,” she says, but the only thing that greets her is silence.
Noah Harper didn’t look up. “Enter.”
“Morning, sir.” James Sullivan, Secretary, walked in with a tablet in hand. “I hope I am not disturbing you.”
Noah didn’t reply. Instead, he gave him a blizzardy glance before going back to work. James stood crushed between urgency and protocol, so he remained silent.
That silence felt like a rubber band that was being stretched too far without the possibility of snapping.
Noah’s fingers did not move. “This is a ‘what the f**k’ kind of look,” Noah said, deadly, glaring at James. “There’s an uh, press outside, sir.
There is...something.” James said. The way Noah extended his arm told James that he needed to shut the hell up. The headline plastered across the tablet was like him being hit by a truck.
‘GAY CEO OF BLACKWOOD TOWERS, NOAH HARPER, CAUGHT WITH MYSTERY WOMAN’
No wonder he is so paranoid, a grainy photo of him at his worst was up for the world to see. Last night, violation of privacy was a major concern for him, but now. ‘The notoriously private CEO was spotted in an intimate encounter with an unidentified woman. Sources say...’
“This snoopy bastard will pay for putting this to the world.” Noah wondered. He charged his fist and threw it against the desk, causing his coffee mug to fly across the desk. He was right.
The coffee cup had shattered against the floor just like his carefully constructed world. Not bothering about James, who was now stumbling away from the desk, Noah's body was on fire due to the rage burning his veins like ice.
"Find that wretched girl. I swear, I'm going to end her," Noah barked, his voice seething with raw fury.
His secretary barely nodded before rushing out of the office, not daring to linger in the storm of his wrath.
Noah’s fists clenched as his breathing grew ragged. Then, with a deafening roar, he grabbed the nearest object—his coffee mug—and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, raining ceramic shards onto the floor.
"That little snake!" he spat, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "She set me up. She planned this! Oh, she thinks she’s smart? She thinks she can make a fool out of me and walk away unscathed? No. No, no, no."
He ran his fingers through his hair, pacing like a caged animal. Every passing second felt like an eternity, the anticipation gnawing at his sanity.
Then, at last, the office door creaked open. His secretary stepped in, his expression neutral but his posture rigid.
"Sir, we found her."
Noah turned sharply. His dark eyes, bloodshot from rage, locked onto the man like daggers.
"Who is she?" His voice was low, deadly.
The secretary hesitated only a moment before reading from his tablet.
"Emily Grant. Twenty-one years old. Resides at 37 Avenue, Wale’s Street."
Noah barely waited for the final syllable before snapping, "Get my car."
"Right away, sir," the secretary replied, disappearing instantly.
Noah stormed out of his office. By the time he reached the building's entrance, his driver was already stationed by the car, ready to take orders.
"Drive," Noah ordered curtly, his tone sharp enough to cut steel.
The driver hesitated. "Sir... where exactly—?"
Noah’s glare was so menacing it could have frozen hell over.
"Out. Now."
Without another word, the driver scrambled out of the seat. Noah slid in, slammed the door, and floored the accelerator.
His grip on the wheel was white-knuckled as the city blurred past him. His mind was an inferno, a relentless loop of her face, her betrayal, the humiliation he'd suffered because of her. He imagined her laughing, smirking, thinking she had outsmarted him. It made his blood boil.
Minutes later, he pulled up at 37 Avenue, Wale’s Street. His fingers flexed as he stepped out, his towering frame radiating an aura of pure menace.
And there she was.
A fragile, pitiful thing curled up on the doorstep, her body slumped like a discarded rag doll. She looked so small, so helpless—like a kitten caught in the rain.
But Noah wasn’t moved.
Pity had no place in his heart for traitors.
His lips curled into a sneer as he approached, his polished shoes clicking ominously against the pavement. He lifted his foot and delivered a sharp, ruthless kick to her side.
The girl jolted awake, gasping as she scrambled to her feet, her limbs stiff from the cold.
Noah’s gaze swept over her. His stomach twisted in disgust at the sight of her. Love bites marred her pale skin—faint but unmistakable. His scowl deepened.
Disgusting.
Emily blinked, dazed and disoriented. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, expecting to see her mother or sister. But then... the shoes.
Expensive. Impossibly expensive. Worth more than her entire family's earnings combined.
Her breath hitched. Slowly, she lifted her gaze.
The man standing before her was striking. Tall. Broad-shouldered. His dark hair was tousled just enough to make him look effortlessly alluring, but his face—his face was carved from stone, his expression unreadable.
His shirt, unbuttoned just enough to reveal the defined contours of his collarbone, made her pulse quicken. There was something terrifyingly magnetic about him.
Then his voice, cold and venomous, sliced through the air.
"You wretched little liar. Why did you do it?"
Emily blinked.
Do what?
Her lips parted, but no words came out. She stared at him, her confusion evident.
Noah's jaw clenched, his patience snapping like a brittle thread.
"Oh, don’t you dare play dumb with me," he growled, stepping closer.
Emily instinctively took a step back.
Noah advanced.
She retreated.
A predator and his prey.
And there was no escape.
"You think I wouldn’t recognize you?" Noah snarled, his voice dripping with contempt. "It was you last night, you vile little temptress. What was your plan? To ruin my reputation? To seduce me and then sell the story to the highest bidder?"
Emily’s breath hitched. What was he talking about? Her mind raced, but before she could respond, he loomed closer, his towering presence suffocating.
"I bet you thought you were clever," he sneered. "Whispering sweet nothings, leaving your filthy marks on me, and then leaking the story. I bet you're proud of yourself."
Emily’s stomach churned. This had to be a mistake. She scrambled for her phone with trembling fingers, her heart pounding as she tapped open the news app.
And there it was.
The headline blared at her like a death sentence.
Scandalous Night with the Nation’s Most Powerful CEO!
Her fingers went numb as she scrolled. The numbers were rising like wildfire—over three million views in just twenty minutes. The comments were pouring in. Speculations. Gossip. Ruthless judgment.
Emily’s skin turned clammy. Her pulse roared in her ears.
This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
She wasn’t just caught up in some silly rumor. She was tangled in a full-blown scandal with Noah Blackwood. A man whose mere name sent boardrooms into silence and made journalists tremble.
It was over. She was done for.
She opened her mouth, desperate to explain, to tell him she had nothing to do with this. But the moment she tried, Noah's patience snapped.
With a sharp growl, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her forward.
“Wait—!” Emily gasped, but he wasn’t listening.
He dragged her toward the car with the force of a man on a warpath. She stumbled, struggling against his iron grip, but it was useless. Noah was relentless.
Before she could utter another word, he flung the car door open and shoved her inside.
The door slammed shut.
The lock clicked.
Emily’s breath came in short, panicked bursts. Her pulse hammered wildly. She turned to him, wide-eyed, fear and confusion swirling in her gaze.
Noah slipped into the driver’s seat beside her, his movements eerily controlled. He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white from the sheer force of his rage.
Then, without sparing her a glance, he uttered two words.
Two words that made her blood freeze.
"Marry me."
Emily's world tilted.
She must have misheard him.
Marry him?
What kind of nightmare was this?
- Writer
