Emilia Stone wasn't easily rattled. She had mastered the art of controlling every detail of her world—her company, her public image, her emotions. But nothing could've prepared her for the chaos waiting in her penthouse.
The second she stepped through the door, heels clicking on the marble floor, her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
She hesitated, then answered.
"Miss Stone," the voice on the other end was clipped, official. "This is Detective Calder with the Financial Crimes Unit. I'm calling regarding your father, Arthur Stone."
She froze. "…What about him?"
"We have reason to believe there's been significant corporate misconduct linked to Stone Enterprises. We'd like you to come down to the station for a few questions."
Emilia's heart stuttered. "My father passed away three years ago. Why are you investigating him now?"
"There are fresh leads, ma'am. Someone's been moving money—recently. And it's under your name."
Her blood ran cold.
That's not possible. She had never touched the family accounts beyond what her legal team had cleared. Everything she owned, she earned.
The line went quiet for a beat before the detective added, "I'm sure you'd like to clear this up quickly. We'll see you tomorrow."
Click.
She stood there, stunned. The empire her father left her—her pride, her burden—was crumbling beneath her perfectly polished heels. And someone had used her name to do it. Who could have done it? She questioned herself.
Later that Night
She didn't know why she ended up at the auto shop again. She just… drove. Fast and Reckless. Anything to feel like she still had control over something.
Sebastian was locking up when she pulled up in a silver Mercedes, eyes red-rimmed, her usual icy confidence cracked.
"Emilia?" he said, confused, concerned. "You okay?"
She stepped out, arms crossed tightly, trying to keep the mask on. "I shouldn't be here."
"But you are," he said softly, stepping closer. "What happened?"
She looked at him for a long beat. She could lie. She always lied. It was safer.
But something in his eyes made her want to be real.
"My father might've been a criminal," she whispered. "And the fallout's coming for me."
Sebastian blinked, the smart-ass comment he'd been about to make dying on his lips.
"I didn't do anything wrong," she added, voice cracking. "But it's all under my name. My life… my reputation. It's unraveling."
He reached out and gently cupped her elbow. "Hey. Look at me."
She did.
"You're not alone in this," he said, voice low and steady. "Not anymore."
She stared at him, heart pounding. He was everything her world warned her against—unrefined, untamed, unpredictable. But in this moment, he was the only thing that felt real.
And as the streetlight flickered above them, Emilia took a step forward—closer than she should've—and whispered, "Why are you being so kind to me?"
Sebastian's lips curved. "Because even flames need warmth before they burn."