Chapter 58
Chapter Fifty-Eight
EMILIA
Vivienne’s laugh cut across the table, sharp enough to turn a few heads from the next booth. “You’re glowing, Em. Don’t even try to hide it.”
Charlotte smirked into her glass. “She’s terrible at hiding it. Look at her. That’s not dynasty-polish smiling. That’s…” she twirled her straw in the ice, “—the kind that gives you away.”
I forced a laugh, reaching for my fork, anything to break their focus. “I’m not glowing. I’m tired.”
“Please,” Vivienne rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen you after a week of dynasty dinners. That’s tired. This?” She gestured at me with a flick of her wrist, rings flashing. “This is hope.”
Hope. The word almost caught in my throat.
I picked at the edge of my napkin instead of answering. Because if I said it out loud…
Vivienne leaned in. “So? What is happening? Has a merger been set?”
“Do we like him, or them?” Charlotte asked.
I shook my head, smiling like it was all a joke. “Nothing is official. Nothing is signed. ”
“Doesn’t matter,” Vivienne teased. “You’re living it. We can see it.”
But they didn’t see. Not the way it felt to sit here and pretend my entire life wasn’t hanging on signatures and blood. Not the way it felt to keep a secret that was heavier than the Accord itself.
I wanted to tell them. Wanted to say yes, it’s real, it’s them, it’s always been them . But my family didn’t know. And until the announcement was carved in stone, the paperwork was signed by both dynasties, I was drowning alone.
Because the truth was brutal, the Adams would never let the Accord slide quietly into Crow hands. The Accord was the spine of the dynasty, the thing generations had built their power on. To give it up was to kneel—and the Adams didn’t kneel.
I knew what that meant. What it could mean for me.
If the twins pushed, if they forced my family’s hand with blackmail or leverage, there was a chance my bloodline would cut me down before they let me sign the Accord to Crows. If it came to a choice between my life and the dynasty’s spine, I knew which one they’d save.
Dynasties didn’t care about love, they cared about bloodlines and power.
My smile held while Vivienne and Charlotte teased, but under it was the truth. I was terrified of wanting this, letting myself believe I could be their wife. Because if it fell apart—if my family killed me, or worse—I wouldn’t survive the heartbreak a second time. Losing them all over again.
Vivienne raised her glass. “Fine, don’t tell us. Just don’t expect us not to notice when you start smiling in Crow black instead of Adams blue.”
I clinked my glass to hers, lips curved in a dynasty-trained mask. But inside, I was already breaking under the weight of hope I couldn’t afford.
High on it. Drowning in it. Too scared to admit it.
And until it was over, every beat of hope felt like walking blindfolded to the edge of a grave.