The air behind the curtain was suffocating.
Emma's knees trembled, pressed tightly together as she crouched in the shadows. She could hear her father's footsteps—so close she could feel the carpet shift. His fingers brushed the edge of the curtain.
Then—
Bang. Bang.
The sudden knock on the door shattered the silence.
"Alistair!" a deep voice boomed from the other side, rough and frantic. "It's David!"
The door burst open without waiting for permission. Emma's father's hand froze mid-reach.
David stumbled in, his coat soaked in blood. Not just splattered—drenched. A dark stain covered the entire front of his shirt, trailing down his sleeves. His breathing was uneven, one arm cradling his ribs as though something inside was broken.
Verona gasped. "David—what the hell happened?"
Alistair turned away from the curtain instantly, storming toward him. "You were supposed to silence a man, not bring a crime scene into my house!"
David staggered forward, hands shaking. "It's done. He's dead. But… there's a problem."
Emma's breath hitched behind the curtain.
Who? Who is dead?
David continued, his voice low and grim. "It's Silas Grant. The old engineer who worked on Project N-14 with Caleb and Lillian Rolister."
Emma's heart dropped.
She knew that name. She had seen it in one of the faded blueprints tucked into her father's drawer. Silas Grant—a forgotten name from the past.
Alistair's face turned pale.
"You idiot," he hissed. "Do you realize what you've done?"
David didn't flinch. "He was going to leak everything. He had files, copies—photographs. He had enough to bring the Valeria Empire down."
"And?" Verona asked sharply, her voice clipped.
David looked between them. "Rhea Carson saw me do it."
Time stopped.
"What?"
"I don't know how," David growled. "She must've followed me. She saw the blood. She saw my face."
Verona stumbled back, gripping the edge of the desk. "And now she'll run her mouth to the press—"
"She already called the police," David said. "I saw her. She was on the phone when I left the alley."
A sick silence filled the room.
Alistair's knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of his chair.
"She was always a risk," he said quietly. "Too curious. Too nosy. And now she's got leverage."
Emma could feel her heartbeat in her ears, hot and thudding. The weight of it all crashing down.
Silas worked with Jake's parents. He had evidence. And now he's dead. Killed. And Rhea… Rhea saw it happen.
Alistair paced the room like a predator in a cage.
"We'll pay the police off. Again," he snapped. "As for Rhea, we send her a message. A very clear one."
Verona's eyes narrowed. "She defended that boy, Jake. She's connected to all of this. First Emma's outburst, now this? They're all circling back to him."
David muttered, "She's not going to stop. Not unless we stop her."
A silence fell.
Then Alistair turned to David, deadly calm. "Do it. But make it clean. No blood this time."
Emma's legs nearly gave out beneath her. Her whole body shook, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
They're planning another murder. They'll kill Rhea. And they'll get away with it, just like they did before.
She needed to get out.
Now.
Her fingers clutched the edge of the curtain, waiting—timing her escape.
Meanwhile – At the Gates of the Valeria Estate
Jake stood with his hands clenched at his sides, staring at the towering wrought-iron gates.
He hadn't slept in days.
Not since the moment Emma had screamed at her parents, stood between him and their fury like a shield, only to vanish like she never existed.
Why isn't she here? Why hasn't she come back?
She was Valeria. But she wasn't them.
Jake remembered the crack in her voice. The terror in her eyes. The confession she poured out in front of the whole campus like it was a secret she'd been dying to let go of.
"I love him!"
The memory stabbed at him. He'd rejected her then—because he only saw the name she carried.
Now… he couldn't stop seeing the girl beneath it.
She stood for me when no one else did.
He stepped closer to the gate, the cold iron pressing against his palms.
"Emma… where are you?"
Back in the Estate
The meeting in the study dragged on—David relaying details, Alistair barking orders, Verona pouring herself a glass of wine with shaking hands.
Emma finally slipped silently out of the room, down the hall, heart racing like thunder in her chest.
She passed her own bedroom door. Didn't stop. She kept going, through the servant's hallway, down the old narrow staircase that led to the side garden.
The estate grounds were mostly dark now, only the security lights humming softly.
She slipped through the trees, branches snagging at her sleeves.
And then—
She saw him.
Jake.
Standing at the gates like he'd been carved from stone. His eyes scanning the grounds, searching.
Emma stepped forward from the shadow of the trees, breathless.
Jake's gaze snapped toward her—and for a moment, they both froze.
Just two silhouettes under the cold moonlight. The silence between them heavier than anything words could hold.
Jake stepped forward.
"Emma—"
.TO BE CONTINUED.
End of Part 8!