Sebastian had held her all night.
Not because she needed him to.
But because he needed her.
Emilia had unraveled in his arms, shedding more than just her clothes—she'd stripped herself bare of the armor she wore in boardrooms and beneath her name. That fire, that hunger—he'd felt it scorch his soul. But beneath it all had been something quieter. And that's what he held onto even now, hours later, with the early morning light painting gold on her back.
He watched her sleep.
Her lashes still wet at the tips, her lips parted just slightly, her hand loosely gripping his wrist like she feared he might disappear. His chest tightened at the thought.
She'd claimed him tonight, but not in the way she thought.
She hadn't taken him—she'd trusted him.
And that meant more than anything he'd ever known.
Sebastian slid a hand through her tousled hair, letting it spill through his fingers like silk. "You're dangerous, Emilia Stone," he whispered against her shoulder. "Because you make me want everything I swore I couldn't have."
She stirred a little, nuzzling into his neck, but didn't wake.
He swallowed hard and leaned back against the headboard, the adrenaline of the night finally quieting into something else. Stillness. Peace. And a deeper ache that he hadn't been ready for. He had secrets. Deep ones. And the more he fell into her, the harder they would be to keep.
But tonight, none of that mattered.
Because she had let him see her.
And in doing so, she'd let him believe—for just a few hours—that they weren't on opposite sides of a war. That love, even when tangled in power and pain, could be real. Could be this.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and whispered, "You have no idea what you've started."
....
The sun was unforgiving.
Not just in how it streamed across the city skyline, but in how it illuminated every crevice of Emilia's soul as she stared at her reflection in the mirror of Sebastian's bathroom.
Her skin still bore traces of last night—his touch, his lips, the burn of her own need released at last. And yet, under the flush of satisfaction, there was something colder brewing. Something that had nothing to do with Sebastian and everything to do with what was waiting for her out there.
She ran her fingers over her collarbone absently, remembering the way his mouth had lingered there. He had worshiped her, teased her, challenged her. And she had let herself go—completely. No filter. No front. No expectations.
She had made love not as Emilia Stone, heir to the empire, or the woman who walked in heels sharp enough to puncture egos—but as Emilia. Just Emilia.
She closed her eyes and drew a slow breath.
But now came the return.
She emerged from the bathroom quietly, already dressed in sleek black slacks and a silk blouse. Sebastian was awake, perched on the edge of the bed, his bare back tense, hands folded between his knees. His gaze lifted when she entered, warm and unreadable all at once.
"You're leaving," he said.
She nodded once. "The company needs me today."
"Do you?"
That caught her off guard.
Emilia studied him for a beat, then crossed the room and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips—gentle, lingering. "You are the one thing that doesn't ask for a piece of me. I can't say that about anything else in my life right now."
His fingers brushed her wrist. "You don't have to be alone in this."
"I'm not," she whispered, then turned and left.
---
At Stone Enterprises...
The boardroom was unusually quiet for a Monday. The remnants of last week's chaotic fallout still hovered like smoke, and the inner leadership knew better than to cross Emilia when her heels echoed this sharply down the corridor.
She stepped in and shut the door herself.
All eyes turned to her—some with deference, others with suspicion. She took her place at the head of the table, spine straight, mouth neutral.
"Before we begin," she said, voice crisp, "I want to make something clear. I know someone inside this room has been feeding confidential company data to the media—and potentially worse."
Shifts in posture. Throats cleared.
No one spoke.
"I've begun a private investigation. Some of you will be audited. Some of you will be suspended until the matter is resolved. If you're loyal, you have nothing to worry about. If you're not—" Her eyes swept the table slowly. "—consider this your last moment of freedom."
She let the silence stretch. Intimidation wasn't cruelty. It was survival.
"Now," she said smoothly, "let's talk about the Asia project rollout."
The room exhaled again—but Emilia didn't.
She could feel it. The rot beneath the skin of the company her father built. And now, it was on her to cleanse it. She didn't know who exactly was working against her, but she would find out. And when she did, there would be no press conferences. No polite warnings.
Only consequences.