Chapter Six

The emergency room buzzed with activities—a symphony of beeping monitors, rushed footsteps, and frantic voices. Emma burned with anger and frustration but kept her emotions hidden. Her life was practically ruined!

“She will be alright, okay?" Alexander whispered softly, taking her hand into his and pulling her close when he noticed the turmoil in her eyes.

Emma nodded and shifted her gaze to her sister. The snake!

Samantha kept wincing in pain and muttering about how she needed urgent medical attention.

“Ma’am, you need to sit still for a moment,” a nurse instructed as she wheeled a blood-pressure cart towards Samantha.

“I need my daddy... Someone, please get my daddy for me,” Samantha whined.

Oh no!

Emma’s heart pounded in her chest at the mention of her father. She couldn’t handle the both of them at the same time. She decided to act fast.

“Why do you need him to be here when I am right here with you, Samantha? It's okay, you’re going to be alright.” Emma smiled, reaching out to Samantha. The smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“My big sister is the best in the world,” Samantha said, looking in Alexander’s direction, her eyes filled with warmth—a subtle insinuation.

Emma gritted her teeth.

“I couldn’t agree more, Samantha,” Alexander said softly, his voice as steady as his stance.

Alexander glanced at his watch. He knew he could no longer make it to his family dinner. He also knew what that meant: his father’s constant lectures about being in charge of an empire and living up to every expectation.

Most importantly, Alexander was avoiding Isabella. She had been invited without his knowledge. His uncle’s wife, Amanda Reeds, had tipped him off.

A doctor came in, jolting him out of his reverie.

“Mr. Reed and Miss Taylor, can you excuse us so we can examine her?” the doctor said, walking toward Samantha.

“Sure, we’ll be outside,” Alexander responded, glancing at Emma.

Emma walked behind him, refusing to pay attention to what his broad back did to her insides. He was so masculine, his tailored suit outlining his frame perfectly. They got to the lobby, and he sat down, beckoning her to join him.

“Don’t you think we should call your dad?”

“Samantha is fine, Alex. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“We could use this opportunity to talk, Emma. You were really shaken earlier... Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am fine, Alex.”

“I like it when you call me that,” Alexander said softly, meeting her gaze and reaching for her hands.

This time, she didn’t look away. His eyes carried so much warmth that she felt she could drown in them. For a brief moment, everything seemed perfect. Emma forgot the disruptive turn her life had taken in the last 24 hours. Alexander gave her hope. He loved her in ways she couldn’t explain. He was a billionaire, yet he often brought himself low when he was around her. To the world, he was Alexander Reed, a young billionaire and the only heir of the Reeds empire. But with her, he was...

“Oh, my poor princess. What happened to her? Where is my princess?”

A familiar voice interrupted their moment. Harold rushed into the lobby, his countenance distressed. Emma’s eyes shot up when she heard his voice. Her world came crashing down again, the old, dark sense of obligation weighing heavily on her.

She stood abruptly against her wish.

“Father... Fa—”

“Oh my God, I was so worried. Where is she? Where is my baby?”

“Good evening, Mr. Taylor. She’s fine. The doctor is currently attending to her,” Alexander said, standing and extending his hand to Harold.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see her there, and I take full responsibility for whatever the doctor reports,” he continued, his voice laced with compassion and concern.

“Oh, Mr. Reed, was it you who hit my daughter? Oh my God... I hope she’s okay,” Harold said, panic intertwined with his words.

“I am deeply sorry. I didn’t hit her, though. I swerved, but she must have fallen out of fear,” Alexander assured Harold.

“It’s alright, then. I just want my baby girl to be alright, Mr. Reed.”

“She will be. We’re waiting for the doctor’s report. Have a seat. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“No, Alex. There’s no need to,” Emma blurted out, fighting hard to keep herself from glaring at her father.

“Emma, I have to. I owe your family for this.”

Oh no!

Emma hated his sincerity toward her father. She hated how he was slowly playing into her father’s script. Her father was pulling the same old trick—a sense of obligation.

“No, you do not. Your being here is enough, Alex,” Emma’s voice trembled.

She felt young again. Every ounce of strength she had built over the past few years was slipping away with each moment spent with her sister and her father. She was suddenly ten years old again, the Emma her father had neglected and manipulated with his words and actions. Memories flooded her mind. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the thoughts, but they plagued her mind without mercy.

“Come on, Emma. It’s okay,” Alexander muttered, his voice genuine.

Harold grinned, slightly forgetting he was putting on a show. His countenance changed immediately Alexander looked in his direction.

“Emma is modest, just like her mother. Hilda would have been proud,” Harold said, a warm glint in his eyes.

Emma looked at him in disbelief. She wanted to scream in his face, to scratch him until he was disfigured. She hated it whenever he mentioned her mother. Hilda Taylor was perfect, and Emma often wondered how her mother got involved with someone like her father.

The doctor entered the lobby just before Alexander could respond.

“I hope she’s fine, doctor,” Alexander said as soon as he saw her.

“Yes, from the physical examination, she only suffered some bruises from the fall. No signs of fractures,” the doctor confirmed.

“That’s great news,” Alexander said.

Harold hurried to Alexander, giving him a joyful handshake. Anyone observing them might have thought they were family. Emma wanted to puke; the scene nauseated her.

“She’ll be discharged with analgesics, and after resting for a day or two, she can resume her normal activities,” the doctor explained.

“No, doctor. Let’s keep her here for another 48 hours for observation,” Alexander suggested, his tone commanding.

“Well, we don’t see any need to keep her…”

“How about bed rest?” he insisted.

“Alex…” Emma whispered, her voice tight.

“We could do that,” the doctor replied, her eyes glowing.

“How much is your best room here?”

“The VIP section is $5,000 per night. It comes with—”

“Let her have one of the rooms. My finance officer will contact the hospital shortly,” Alexander interrupted.

“Mr. Reed, thank you so much for your kindness,” Harold said, straightening up and attempting to sound not too excited. His arrogance was palpable.

“Don’t thank me. It’s just right that I make her comfortable,” Alexander replied. Turning to the doctor, he continued, “Please do everything to ensure she’s fine.”

“You have my word, Mr. Reed.”

“Emma, thank Mr. Reed for his kindness, won’t you?” Harold strode toward them, his face beaming with satisfaction. His eyes carried messages Emma could decipher. Alexander had played right into Harold’s script, and she hadn’t stopped it. Guilt weighed heavily on her. She had to do something.

“Thank you, Alex,” Emma said stiffly.

She needed a plan—one that would get her father off her back. But what could she do?

*************

Alexander dropped Emma off at home after ensuring Samantha was settled in the hospital room. Emma was oddly quiet. He didn’t press further; his gesture toward her family was mainly for her. He hoped she would see through whatever held her back and open her heart to him.

He drove to his father’s estate, knowing the dinner was probably over. He was right. Only soft music played in the massive living room. Pedro, his father’s loyal PA, was seated in the dining area.

“Where is Father?”

“He’s in bed. He said he didn’t want to be disturbed,” Pedro replied, his eyes flickering over Alexander.

“He’s upset, isn’t he?”

Pedro nodded ruefully.

“Tell him I came by,” Alexander said, turning to leave.

“You should see him…”

“It’s not necessary, Pedro. I had a long day.”

Pedro wanted to stop him, to warn him, but Alexander was already out the door. He had overheard Jefferson Reed talking to Isabella. Alexander didn’t know what was coming his way.

Alexander drove to his mansion, longing for a warm bath. Emma’s thoughts flashed across his mind, and warmth spread through his blood. He eagerly awaited the day he could bring her to his house.

No matter what held her back, he was determined to pursue her until he broke through her walls.

When he stepped into his bedroom, he noticed the lights were off. That was unusual. His home keeper knew to leave them on. He pressed the red button on a remote hung on the wall, and the lights flickered on.

To his dismay, Isabella was sprawled across his bed, her lingerie revealing dangerous areas.

“What are you doing in my bedroom? How did you—?” Alexander demanded, his tone sharp.

“Oh, come on. Your dad mentioned you’ve been stressed lately…”

“He gave you the security access card to my house?”

“Well, yes,” Isabella admitted, her lips curling into a seductive smile.

“So, he sent you to play slut?”

“Watch your tongue, Alex! Loving you doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate any form of disrespect,” she snapped, adjusting her position on the bed. Her demeanor was sultry.

“You talk about respect uhnn, yet here you are, in a man’s bed, trying to seduce him?”

“Seduce? No, Alex. I’m just trying to make you feel better,” Isabella said, her voice dripping with faux innocence.

“I don’t want your help, Isabella. Get out,” Alexander said, his eyes blazing with anger.

“Alex, come on. I mean no harm,” Isabella said, her tone softening. She got up and walked toward him. “When was the last time you were in bed with a woman, Alex?” She stroked his cheek lovingly, her left hand sliding down slowly to unbutton his shirt.

Alexander grabbed her hands and pushed her away gently. He wanted to explode with disdain. Any respect he had for her was now completely gone.

“Stop it. Just stop, Isabella. Leave my house now,” he said firmly, his anger barely contained.

“What if I don’t want to?” Isabella returned to the bed, deliberately allowing her lingerie to slide up her thigh.

“Isabella. Get. Out. Now.”

“You know I waited for you at your family dinner today. Why didn’t you show up?” she asked, her tone dripping with entitlement.

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” Alexander growled, storming out of the bedroom.

As he left the house, his desires burned, and just before he stepped out of the room, a flash of longing flickered in his eyes, but he pushed it aside. Isabella saw it and decided to capitalize on it.

“Alexander,” she called in a sing-song voice.

The only response she heard was the sound of his car. Isabella rushed to the window and watched his car disappear. Anger and humiliation consumed her. No man had ever turned her down.

She got her phone and sent a message.

(“I need to know if any woman is in Alexander’s life. Let me know before tomorrow night.”)

She smirked after pressing send. Greg was good at digging up information. She would wait for his response to plan her next move.

“You are mine, Alexander. Mine alone,” she muttered.