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Chapter 13
Back at the engagement venue, Emily Ross was seething–abandoned, humiliated, and left in front
of half of Rivermont’s elite like a discarded prop.
She stormed off at first, vowing never to speak to him again.
But as the silence dragged on, panic slowly crept in.
What if he was really done with her?
Frantic, she pulled out her phone and started calling him over and over again.
No answer.
Panic unraveling her composure, she switched to voice messages–hundreds of tear–soaked pleas sent thro‘ the night.
“Harrison, I’m sorry. It was my fault. Please forgive me…”
“Don’t leave me and our baby… I promise I won’t say anything reckless again, please don’t abandon
us…‘
She sent them all night long–begging, reminiscing, clinging to every memory they’d shared-
from dusk until dawn.
By noon the next day, she finally got a response.
Harrison wanted to meet.
He told her to meet him at the hospital garden–the same place they first crossed paths.
Emily remembered it clearly. She’d been chasting a disoriented patient for running in the hallway,
-her tone sharp, her posture righteous, like a teacher catching a child cheating.
Harrison had been watching from a distance, drawn in by her sharp tone and sense of self–righteous order.
It reminded him–painfully–of Olivia.
The first time he met Olivia Bennett, he’d just returned from overseas–adrift, disinterested in the empire his family tried to chain him to. The station director–Dean West–had been trying to inspire young journalism grads, and Harrison had slipped away from the workshop, bored, only to sneak into the director’s office to nap.
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Olivia, still in high school at the time, had caught him red–handed.
She’d scolded him on behalf of her mentor, and every aspiring student who would’ve killed for a
seat in that room. Her cheeks flushed, her voice full of indignation and passion. She was magnetic
-fierce and brilliant.
From that moment on, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
It took him four years to gather the courage to love her out loud.
Her dream was to become a voice for the voiceless, and he followed her wherever that dream led-
into war zones, the criminal underworld, dangerous undercover assignments…
He had witnessed every chapter of her becoming.
They loved deeply. They had a beautiful daughter together.
They were supposed to grow old together.
And he’d smashed all of it–with his own entitled hands.
What he thought was a brief indulgence with Emily had turned into an irreparable disaster.
Now… his daughter was dead.
And Olivia was gone.
Grief and regret clawed at his chest like a beast. He pounded his fists against his heart, as if pain
could somehow cleanse him.
Then she arrived.
Emily Ross arrived in a crisp white coat, her hair styled like that first day–a ghost of her former
performance.
“Harrison,” she said softly, “why’d you ask to meet here?” She gave a rehearsed smile. “I guess I got a little carried away that day. I was just… overwhelmed with happiness. Will you forgive me?”
Harrison lifted his head–eyes bloodshot, hands clenched, breathing like a man barely containing a
scream.
What she saw in them was not love. Not hurt. Not even disappointment.
It was hatred–pure, seething, barely restrained.
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Emily’s smile faltered. She instinctively stepped back.
“W–what’s wrong?” she asked, voice trembling. “Are you not feeling well? Let me run some tests
She reached for his arm.
Harrison shoved her–hard.
She stumbled back, nearly falling.
“Don’t touch me,” he growled. “You lying parasite.”
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