Chapter 14 #3
"If it's true, she deserves to know," her father finished. "But not yet. Not until we have proof. Real proof, not just timelines and sealed records. She's been through enough. She doesn't need this on top of everything else."
Emery's breath came in short gasps. David Callaway's daughter. The heir everyone was looking for. The reason someone was trying to kill her.
"Devon, I know you want to tell her." Her father's voice softened.
"I know keeping secrets from her feels wrong.
But trust me on this—telling her now, with no proof, while someone's actively trying to kill her?
That will destroy her. Let Declan keep digging.
Let's find something concrete before we turn her entire world upside down. "
"How long?" Devon asked.
"A few more days. Maybe a week. Declan's tracking down the lawyer who handled the adoption, trying to find the birth mother's identity. Once we have that—"
"Once we have that, we tell her everything," Devon said. "No more delays. I can’t keep lying to her.”
“I understand. I did it for two years. It sucks,” her father said.
Emery pressed her hand to her mouth to keep from making a sound. Her vision blurred with tears—anger, betrayal, confusion swirling into a toxic mix that made her want to scream.
They had suspicions. They withheld information. They lied.
Devon had held her, kissed her, told her he was falling in love with her—all while keeping this secret. He was willing to risk whatever was growing between them to keep a truth hidden in the name of protection.
Her father had comforted her about the attacks, about the danger, while knowing exactly why someone might want to ruin her career and possibly want her dead. And this wasn’t the first time her father had done this.
Jesus, she could be David Callaway's biological daughter.
The words echoed in her mind like a death sentence.
She inched closer toward the den. Her body trembling.
Her mind jumbled with words that she could put together into a coherent thought.
Her heart bled with crushing pain. Curling her fingers around the knob, she pushed open the door.
A rage roared through her as if lightning struck, filling her body with electricity.
The men turned and stared at her, their expressions shocked, confused, and guilty.
“Emery,” Devon spoke softly. His brow pulled together in a tight formation. His eyes pleaded with her to understand. To forgive.
“You lied to me,” Emery managed. “You fucking lied. All of you. Every single one of you betrayed my trust when I needed that more than I needed anything else.”
“Sweetheart.” Her father set his glass down, stood, and took a step.
She pushed out her hand. Her heart pulsed in her throat.
“Leave me alone. I can’t stand looking at any of you.
” Turning on her heels, she raced out of the room and made a beeline for the back stairs.
As she took the steps two at a time toward the bedroom she and Devon were now sharing, she could hear him and his sisters calling after her.
Once inside the room, she slammed the door shut, locked it, and sank to the floor, covering her face, and sobbed. Everything she thought about herself, who she believed she was, changed in a second.
She barely had a chance to let the tears fall, to purge it, when someone rattled the door—then pounded.
"Emery." Devon's voice was rough with emotion. "Let me in."
She stayed silent as she rose.
“Come on. I know you’re upset, but please, let me explain.”
“Go away.”
“No. I’m not leaving until you hear me out. I’ll sleep in the hallway if I have to.”
One thing she knew about Devon was that he could be one of the most stubborn men on the planet. It was a Boone trait.
"You lied to me.” She pressed her hand against the door.
“I know. But I didn’t know how to tell you something I wasn't sure was true. We don't even know if it's real. It's speculation, that's all. Circumstantial evidence and timelines that match but don't prove anything."
"You should have told me."
"I wanted to. God, I wanted to tell you about it when the thought first occurred to me.
And even more, the second Declan found those adoption records.
But my dad said to wait. Your dad said to wait.
They didn't want you worrying about something that might not even be true, especially after you were shot at. I was trying to protect you."
"By keeping secrets?"
"By not giving you one more thing to be terrified about." His words came out ragged, breaking on the last syllable. Something thudded softly against the door - his hand, maybe, or his whole body sagging against it. "Someone's trying to kill you. And if you knew—"
"I deserved to know." Tears streamed down her face. "It's my life. My adoption. My possible inheritance. You don't get to decide what I can handle."
"You're absolutely right." He paused for a moment. "I'm sorry. I love you so much, and I thought I was protecting you, but I was just being a coward. I was scared of what it would do to you, scared of adding more weight to what you're already carrying. I’ve never been in love before, and while the feeling doesn’t scare me, doing or saying the wrong thing does. I’m constantly wondering if every action I take is going to be the one that makes you leave.”
Emery stood with her forehead pressed against the door, her hand flat against the wood.
On the other side, she could hear Devon's ragged breathing. His confession was so utterly honest. So raw. Their romance hadn’t been conventional.
They hadn’t really dated. They had sex a few times.
A couple of good laughs when they’d run into each other. A bunch of fun, flirty texts.
But that wasn’t a relationship. It hadn’t grown into that until recently, and it scared her, too. It just happened too fast. And at a time when her world had been thrown into a meat grinder.
"I love you," he said again, softer. "And I swear, I will never keep anything from you again. No more secrets. No more protecting you from truths you have a right to know. Please let me in.”
His words settled over her like a blanket, warm and solid and real.
No more secrets. No more half-truths. Just honesty, even when it hurt.
Especially when it hurt. That was what she needed.
What they both needed. And standing here, separated by wood and her own fear, suddenly felt like the biggest mistake she could make.
She unlocked the door, twisted the knob, and pulled open the door.
Devon stood in the hallway, his face wrecked—eyes red, jaw tight, hands shaking. He looked like he'd aged ten years in the past hour.
"Come in," she whispered.
He stepped inside, and she closed the door behind him. They stood facing each other in the dim light from the bedside lamp.
"Promise me," Emery said. "Promise me you'll never lie to me again. Not to protect me, not because you think you know what's best. I need to look in your eyes and hear you say it.”
"I promise." He reached for her hands, gripping them as if they were a lifeline. "No more secrets."
She searched his face, looking for any sign of deception, any hint that he was just telling her what she wanted to hear. But all she saw was love and regret and absolute sincerity.
"I'm terrified," she admitted. "If this is true—if I really am David's daughter—"
He pulled her closer. "Whatever it means, whatever comes next, I’m right here. I’m standing with you.” He cupped her chin. "But right now, in this moment, I just need you to know that I love you. That I'm sorry. That I will spend every day earning back your trust if that's what it takes."
"I love you, too.” She wrapped her arms around his body, dropping her head to his chest. A million things raced through her mind.
Questions about who’d been threatening. How and why Gabe could be involved, because that just didn’t make sense.
Her father’s insurance fraud, and could they have it wrong, and the attempt on her life be related to that?
And the last thought that seemed to linger the longest, and made her feel like a crazy person, was what if she was David’s biological daughter, and she took her stake in the Callaway Wineries?
What would that mean for her position at Stone Bridge Winery?
And more importantly, how would it change her relationship with the man she’d just declared her undying love for?