Chapter 3 Perfect Gifts
Emily’s lips parted in discomfort, her brows pinching together. She gave Harold a stiff, awkward look, almost cringing, and turned toward Sebastian. “Stop it. I feel so uncomfortable.”
Sebastian pulled her closer, pressing her against his chest until her heartbeat thudded against his.His head dipped, his breath ghosting against her cheek as his lips brushed dangerously close to her ear.
“Mrs. Graves,” he murmured, his voice low and edged with steel. “Do I need to remind you that you are my wife now? Harold is my brother, and he has no choice but to honor that. He should never dare look at you with anything but respect.”
Emily bit her lip at his words, her thoughts twisting. ‘He’s not entirely wrong… Harold may only be my friend, but he’s also Sebastian’s brother. I can’t afford to disregard that bond.’ A faint, tense smile tugged at her lips before she finally gave him a small, reluctant nod.
The heavy silence in the room shattered when the front door clicked open. Leon entered, the sharp rhythm of his polished shoes echoing against the marble floor, his crisp suit and composed demeanor radiating quiet authority. He approached with a respectful nod, stopping just short of Sebastian.
“Mr. Graves, your car is ready. The meeting is in thirty minutes,” he said evenly.
Sebastian’s gaze lingered on Emily, the icy edge in his expression melting just slightly. His hand rose, engulfing her face in his palm. His thumb brushed over the curve of her cheek, tilting her chin up until she had no choice but to meet his piercing eyes.
“I am leaving for now,” he said, his stare holding her captive. “Are you going to just see me leave like this?”
Emily’s breath caught at the intensity of his gaze, her cheeks warming. A shy, almost nervous smile curved her lips as she rose on her toes. She pressed the lightest kiss to his mouth—soft, fleeting, and timid, but enough to leave her skin tingling and her face burning long after she pulled away.
For once, he didn’t make a fuss, didn’t pull her closer or deepen the kiss. Instead, he allowed her to pull back. His hand lingered a beat longer on her waist before sliding off.
Straightening, he cast Harold one last sharp, warning glare—so cold it sent a shiver down the younger man’s spine—before turning on his heel and striding out with Leon.
The heavy front door slammed shut behind them, echoing through the spacious living room.
Both Emily and Harold sank onto the plush couch at the same time, their shoulders slumping as if a storm had just passed. They exhaled in unison, the tension leaving them in a rush.
“He finally left,” Harold groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. His other hand fell limply onto the soft cushion beside him, and his legs stretched out, kicking at the rug. “Thank God. Why is he so damn scary?”
Emily let out a small, nervous laugh, her fingers twisting the edge of the throw pillow beside her. She let out a small laugh, though it carried a nervous edge. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and nodded in agreement despite herself.
Harold’s gaze drifted downward, stopping at the jewelry strewn across the glass coffee table.
Emily hadn’t had the chance to put it away after the party; the necklace, bracelet, and earrings lay scattered in their open boxes, catching the soft glow of the chandelier overhead.
Harold blinked, brows knitting together in visible confusion.
“I never expected my brother to know how to give perfect gifts to girls, Miss Emily,” Harold said, disbelief threading his voice. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
Emily blinked, puzzled. “What do you mean?” Her brow furrowed, and she shifted slightly.
Harold’s eyes met her gaze. He pointed toward the jewelry, his expression turning solemn. “This is the Graves family’s personal collection. Sebastian had this entire set made by our family’s personal jewelry designer just for you. Didn’t you know that?”
Emily’s hands rose instinctively to the necklace, fingertips brushing over the delicate craftsmanship as she stared at it in stunned silence.
Earlier, she had slipped the jewelry on with little thought, assuming it was just a gift—maybe even something she’d have to return after the event.
But now, she immediately recognized the significance. This wasn’t just jewelry. It was a statement. A public declaration. A symbol that she already belonged to the Graves family.
Her chest tightened, a swirl of emotions pressing within her ribs. Warmth spread slowly, tingling down her arms and across her shoulders, tugging at the corners of her lips.
For the first time, she felt something deeper.
Not just valued. Cherished. Special.
***
Emily’s sleep was interrupted by a barrage of notifications pinging repeatedly on her phone.
Her lashes fluttered open groggily as she reached across the nightstand, squinting at the glowing screen.
Notification after notification piled across the top bar until the device felt almost hot in her palm.
Her heart gave a small kick. Frowning, she unlocked it.
The headlines screamed at her in bold fonts.
“Popular Designer Amelia Jones Issues Statement Claiming Mr. Sebastian Graves and Ms. Emily Crawford Used Their Wealth and Influence to Oust Her from the Industry.”
“Ms. Amelia Faces Industry Ban; Allegations Point to Sebastian Graves and Emily Crawford for Career Sabotage.”
“Amelia Jones Claims She’s Being Targeted in Revenge Scheme by Emily Crawford and Sebastian Graves”
“Jewelry Industry Shocked by Public Feud: Amelia Jones Blames Emily Crawford and Sebastian Graves for Career Downfall.”
“Is Amelia Jones Being Silenced? Accuses Sebastian Graves and Emily Crawford of Destroying Her Career!”
“Amelia Jones Speaks Out: ‘I Refused to Take the Blame for Stolen Designs… Now They’re Ruining Me!’”
“Amelia Jones Accuses Emily Crawford and Sebastian Graves of Plotting Revenge”
Emily’s eyes darted across the glowing screen, the bold, sensationalized headlines screaming back at her, painting her as the villain.
Each word seemed to press heavier against her chest. Her lips pressed together so tightly they stung, and her throat went dry, rough like sandpaper.
Frustration surged hot, but beneath the sting of disbelief, a sharper current of determination began to run through her.
She sat up straighter on the edge of the bed, the duvet pooling around her waist. With a sharp inhale, she grabbed her phone with both hands.
She opened her social media app. Her thumbs flew across the screen in quick, frantic taps. Every tap echoed the pounding of her heart as she typed her statement, attached the photos, and reread them twice before hitting post .
Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out everything else. She barely had time to breathe before a heavy banging rattled the front door, reverberating through the quiet house.
Emily froze. Her head snapped up, eyes wide, the glow of her phone screen reflecting in their glassy surface. Her brows drew together in confusion. It was early evening—Sebastian never came home this soon.
She slid off the bed, her bare feet brushing against the cold hardwood floor. Wrapping her arms around herself, she hurried down the staircase, her steps echoing softly in the silence. Reaching the entryway, she hesitated only a beat before unlatching the lock and pulling the heavy door open.
Her eyes widened instantly.
“Jeremy?”
Shock flickered across her face, her hand tightening on the edge of the doorframe for support. “How did you know I’m living here now?”
Jeremy’s blank stare met hers. “At the party, you dumped it on me that you’re married to Sebastian. Where else should I expect you to live but his home?”
Emily forced a tense smile, her fingers nervously combing through her hair, strands slipping between her trembling hands. “Sorry… I didn’t tell you earlier.”
Jeremy’s glare hardened, his eyes narrowing into slits. “I’ll talk about that later… in very much detail.”
Emily shuddered, her shoulders giving a slight tremor as her fingers dug into the edge of the door. ‘I really should’ve told Jeremy earlier. Now he’s going to taunt me for the rest of my life.’
But before she could respond, Jeremy’s tone shifted, his voice tightening as his brows pulled together.
“Did you see the announcement Amelia posted? Jacob told me there were crowds of Amelia’s fans outside his company today, making a scene, demanding he drag you out and let them deal with you. It’s a good thing you took the day off.”
Emily’s lips parted, but instead of answering, she silently handed him her phone. The screen glowed in the dim light of the entryway.
Jeremy frowned, his expression darkening as his thumb scrolled. Confusion flickered, then his brows shot upward. His head snapped toward her, disbelief flashing across his face.
“You announced that you’re Empress?” he asked, his voice sharp with shock.
Emily nodded once. She turned and walked toward the living room. Jeremy followed close behind, his shoes thudding softly against the polished floor.
“I wanted to keep it a secret,” she admitted, lowering herself onto the couch, smoothing her palms across her knees. “But in the end, I had no choice. I’m tired of her taking advantage of me for years.”
Jeremy dropped heavily onto the opposite couch cushion, his elbows digging into his thighs as his eyes devoured the words on the screen. His frown deepened with every swipe.
On the screen were the images she’d posted—Amelia’s so-called “original” submissions for Lucas’s projects, set side by side with Emily’s already copyrighted designs, timestamped and filed years before Amelia had ever touched them.
Beneath the evidence, Emily’s words glared back:
‘I let Miss Amelia Jones get away with stealing my designs because I was stupidly in love. I thought making my ex-boyfriend happy by giving him everything I created would be the best idea in the world. I wanted to see him succeed. I didn’t expect Miss Jones to abuse my generosity, break into my computer, make small edits, and submit my work as her own.
When I confronted her at the party, she called me a liar.
Even my own boyfriend refused to believe me.
I was humiliated, fired from his company, and left with nothing. Still, I decided to let go of the matter.
She should have laid low like thieves do but instead, she has gone so far that she’s begun believing her own lies, parading herself as the real designer. I have no choice anymore but to reveal everything.
I am Empress—the creator behind every design Miss Amelia Jones has ever claimed as her own.
Here is the link to my copyrighted work from 2017, years before Miss Jones falsely presented them as her designs in 2021.’
Jeremy let out a sudden bark of laughter, loud and sharp, making Emily flinch.
He slapped his knee, shaking his head as if the absurdity of it all had finally broken loose.
“I bet Amelia is losing her mind right now.” His eyes darted to Emily, gleaming with mischief.
A wide grin stretched across his face. “Even I didn’t know you had copyrighted them already! ”
Emily’s lips curved, a smile tugging despite herself. She rolled her eyes, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Of course I did. I was just too lenient with her and with Lucas. Back then, I was blind in love. Foolish. But not anymore.”
Jeremy leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “This… this is going to be great!” His tone rose, sharp with excitement, almost triumphant. “You finally came out! Are you going to file a legal complaint? Don’t tell me you’re not.”
Emily exhaled slowly. She pushed herself onto the opposite end of the couch, sinking down into the cushions. She nodded. “I already asked my lawyer to take care of it.”
Jeremy’s brows arched higher. “You also outed Lucas as a liar for denying your relationship all these years. He’s been telling the media for years you two had nothing to do with each other. Do you really think he’ll confess the truth so easily now?”
“I don’t care anymore,” she whispered. “He can say whatever he wants. I’m done with their lies.”