The Cousins Manipulation
Alexander sat behind the large oak desk in his corner office, reviewing quarterly reports under the soft glow of his desk lamp. The city skyline stretched out behind him through the floor-to-ceiling windows, but his focus remained sharp and composed.
His phone buzzed. The front desk.
“Mr. Prescott, Camilla Bramwell is here to see you. She says it’s important.”
Alexander paused for half a second, then replied evenly, “Send her up.”
A few minutes later, the door opened.
Camilla stepped in, looking radiant in a fitted cream dress, a large bouquet of white lilies in her arms and a bright, hopeful smile on her face.
“Alexander,” she said warmly, closing the door behind her. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
He stood politely, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. “Not at all. Please, sit.”
She placed the bouquet on the corner of his desk and settled into the chair, crossing her legs gracefully. “These are for you.”
Alexander gave a small nod. “Thank you. How is Harold doing?”
Camilla waved a hand casually. “Oh, he’s back home now. Resting. The doctors say he’s stable. He’ll be fine.”
Alexander studied her, his calm, observant eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t seem very worried about him.”
Camilla’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she leaned forward, eyes glistening with sudden tears.
“I didn’t want to run away that day, Alexander,” she whispered, voice trembling.
“I was standing there in my dress, thinking about going through with it… about marrying you. I was scared, but I was ready to try. Then Emery came into the room and started talking to me. She told me I didn’t have to go through with it.
That I deserved better than a loveless marriage.
She encouraged me to run. And my father… he supported her. He always has.”
She wiped a tear from her cheek, voice breaking beautifully.
“He loves Emery more than he loves me. She was always the perfect, quiet, grateful niece. The one who never complained. He planned all of this... pushing her toward you so she could marry into a rich family and ‘secure her future.’ I was just in the way. They manipulated me and had me run away so Father can marry Emery to you..”
Alexander remained very still, his jaw tightening as he processed her words. “Camilla… that’s a serious accusation. Are you saying your father and Emery conspired to force her into the marriage?”
Camilla nodded, fresh tears falling. “Yes. I know it sounds terrible, but it’s true.
I overheard them talking before the ceremony.
Father kept saying how perfect Emery would be for you, how grateful she would be, how she would never cause trouble like I did.
Emery didn’t argue. She just… went along with it. ”
Alexander exhaled slowly, rubbing his jaw. “I had no idea. I always thought… the pressure came from both sides.”
“It did,” Camilla said softly, reaching across the desk to take his hand.
Her touch was warm, lingering. “But the real pressure was on me to disappear so Emery could take my place. She played the victim so well. The poor orphan girl forced into a rich marriage. And now she’s pregnant… how convenient.”
Alexander’s eyes darkened, deep in thought. “If what you’re saying is true…”
Camilla squeezed his hand gently, her voice dropping to a soft, intimate whisper.
“It is true. I never stopped thinking about you, Alexander. You were always so kind, so steady. When everything fell apart with Jake, I realized what I had thrown away. Please… don’t shut me out.
I’m not asking for everything right away.
Just… let me be close to you again. Even if it’s just as friends for now. ”
Before he could respond, she stood, circled around the desk, and pressed her lips to his in a soft, lingering kiss. Her fingers brushed his jaw tenderly.
When she pulled back, her eyes were shining with tears and promise.
“I’m not leaving you this time,” she whispered. “I promise.”
Alexander sat frozen, deep in thought, the weight of her words and the feel of her kiss lingering on his lips.
The bouquet of lilies sat between them like a silent witness.
×××××××
Harold Bramwell was back home, resting in the large four-poster bed in his private suite at the Bramwell estate. The room was quiet, sunlight filtering softly through the heavy curtains. Judith had stepped out to speak with the nurse, leaving Emery alone with her uncle.
Emery sat on the edge of the bed, carefully holding a small bowl of warm broth. She spooned a gentle portion and brought it to Harold’s lips.
“Here, Uncle. Just a little. The doctor said you need to eat something light.”
Harold took the spoonful slowly, his face still pale but his eyes warm as they rested on her. After swallowing, he leaned back against the pillows with a soft sigh.
“Thank you, my dear,” he said, voice weak but full of affection. “You always took such good care of me, even when you were small.”
Emery smiled faintly and offered another spoonful. “It’s the least I can do. You raised me when I had no one else.”
He ate a few more bites in silence before gently pushing the bowl away. “That’s enough for now. Tell me about you. How are you feeling? And the baby… is everything alright?”
Emery set the bowl on the nightstand and rested her hands in her lap, one instinctively drifting to her stomach. “I’m okay. The nausea is still there in the mornings, but it’s getting a little better. The doctor says the baby is healthy so far. Everything looks normal.”
Harold’s eyes softened with concern and love. “And you? Are you eating properly? Sleeping? This pregnancy… it came at such a difficult time for you.”
Emery looked down, her voice quiet. “I’m managing. The Prescotts… they’re complicated. But the baby is the one good thing in all of this. I talk to him or her every day. I tell them stories… even showed them some of my old toys I found here last time.”
Harold reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother, Emery. Strong and kind, just like you’ve always been. Don’t let anyone in that house make you feel small. You deserve peace… and so does that child.”
Emery’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. She nodded, holding his hand a little tighter.
“I’m trying, Uncle. I really am.”
Harold smiled faintly, exhaustion clear in his face but his love for her unwavering. “That’s my girl. Now go home and rest. Don’t worry about me. Just take care of yourself and the little one.”
Emery leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “I’ll come back soon. Promise.”
As she stood to leave, Harold watched her with quiet pride and a touch of sadness, knowing the weight she carried was far heavier than she let anyone see.
×××××××
Dinner was served in the sleek dining room, the black pendant light casting dramatic shadows over the marble table. Alexander had returned from the office in a foul mood, his usual composure cracked by the long day and whatever thoughts were weighing on him.
Emery placed the last dish, a simple roasted chicken with vegetables on the table and took her seat beside him. She served herself a small portion, trying to eat despite the persistent nausea.
Alexander took one bite, then pushed his plate away slightly. His voice cut through the quiet like a blade.
“This is dry,” he said bluntly, not looking at her. “And bland. If you’re going to cook, at least do it properly. No one wants to eat something that tastes like it was made by someone who can barely stand in the kitchen.”
The words landed heavily. Emery froze, fork halfway to her mouth. Her cheeks flushed with humiliation, but she kept her voice quiet.
“I’m sorry. I can make something else if you’d like.”
Alexander didn’t even glance at her. “Don’t bother. I’ll have the staff order something decent. You’ve done enough damage to my appetite tonight.”
Jesse’s fork clattered against his plate. His eyes snapped to his brother.
“Alexander,” he said sharply, voice low but furious. “That was completely uncalled for. She’s pregnant. She’s been cooking for all of us while dealing with nausea and exhaustion, and you speak to her like that? At your own table?”
Alexander finally looked up, his calm mask slipping into clear irritation. “Stay out of it, Jesse. She’s my wife. I’ll speak to her however I see fit.”
“No,” Jesse shot back, voice rising. “Not like that. Not when she’s carrying your child and doing everything she can to make this house run smoothly while you treat her like a servant who failed an inspection. She deserves basic respect.”
The table fell into stunned silence. Rebecca’s eyebrows rose. Harper smirked, clearly enjoying the conflict. Ivy looked between her brothers with wide eyes.
Emery sat very still, staring at her plate, cheeks burning. She didn’t speak, but her hand trembled slightly as she set her fork down.
Alexander exhaled through his nose, clearly annoyed at being challenged. “Fine. If my honest opinion offends everyone so much, I’ll keep it to myself.” He stood up abruptly. “I’ve lost my appetite anyway.”
He left the dining room without another word.
Jesse remained seated for a moment longer, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the empty doorway. Then he turned to Emery, his voice softening instantly.
“Are you okay?”
Emery nodded once, eyes still on her plate. “I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t.
And everyone at the table knew it.
×××××××
The next morning, the kitchen was quiet except for the soft clink of dishes. Emery stood at the counter, preparing a light breakfast tray for herself.
Harper strolled in, still in her silk robe, a smug smile already playing on her lips. She leaned against the island, watching Emery with open amusement.
“Well, well,” Harper drawled, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Look at you. Still playing the perfect little wife after last night’s delightful performance. Alexander was so rude to you at dinner. I almost felt bad for you… almost.”
Emery kept her eyes on the tray, arranging a small bowl of fruit and toast. She didn’t respond.
Harper stepped closer, enjoying herself. “He barely looked at you. Spoke to you like you were the help who burned the food. And you just sat there, taking it like the good little replacement you are. Pathetic, really.”
Emery’s hand paused for a second, but she continued working, voice quiet but steady. “It was just dinner, Harper.”
Harper laughed, sharp and cruel. “Just dinner? Oh, sweetheart. You really don’t get it, do you?
Alexander is finally seeing you for what you are.
A temporary inconvenience. He’s already pulling away.
And once that baby is born and he realizes you’re not worth the trouble… your days in this house are numbered.”
She leaned in, voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “You’ll be out on the street before the ink dries on the divorce papers. Back to whatever hole you crawled out of. Maybe my mother will even throw you a going-away party.”
Emery finally looked up, eyes meeting Harper’s with quiet steel. “You seem very sure of that.”
Harper smirked. “I am. Because unlike you, I know my brother. He tolerates you for now because of the baby. But once that usefulness runs out? You’re gone. And no one here will miss you.”
Emery set the knife down slowly, meeting Harper’s gaze without flinching. “Then I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
Harper’s smile faltered for half a second at the calm defiance. She straightened, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
“Enjoy your little breakfast while you still can,” she said sweetly. “Tick-tock, replacement.”
She turned and sauntered out of the kitchen, leaving Emery standing alone at the counter, the weight of her words hanging in the air like smoke.
Emery placed a protective hand over her stomach, breathing slowly. She refused to let the tears fall.
Not here.
Not yet.
×××××××