After giving up being a billionaire's mistress

Sariah Allen’s voice came out raw and hoarse as she stood face to face with Emory Kelly, every emotion inside her screaming to break free. "You proposed to her, and now you want me to help your future wife… Emory, how are you any different from every other guy out there? How can you be this cold?"

She couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Emory’s expression didn’t so much as flicker as he stared back at her. "And you still swear you’re not picking a fight?"

Sariah could barely draw breath. What she wanted most, Emory would never give her.

"Even if I don’t marry Adelaide, I’m still marrying someone else—probably that Johnson heiress, or one of the Lee girls. But you? Never. Get it through your head."

Emory didn’t sugarcoat it. Not even a little.

Sariah had no name, no family fortune. She didn’t belong in his world, and he was a man who guarded his social circle fiercely. Keeping her around this long was already the most reckless thing he’d ever done.

There was no way he’d ever give her his last name, a ring, any kind of public title.

Sariah laughed, bitter and sharp. "I never asked you to marry me. I know where we stand… I knew this would end eventually."

"Sariah, be practical. If you play nice, when this is over I won’t leave you hanging. Pick any property in the city you want. I’ll make sure you get a car, enough money to live comfortably for life," Emory said, pushing to his feet and stepping closer to her. "Be here early tomorrow."

"I want to get married too, Emory," Sariah said, numb all over.

Emory froze, then turned back to face her.

"I’m serious." Tears spilled over her cheeks before she could stop them, giving her away.

"Get some rest. I’ll write this off as you being stubborn. When you’re ready to end this and settle down, just tell me. I’ll find you a nice, promising boy from a good family within the company," Emory said, all magnanimous as he turned to leave.

He was certain a girl with her background could never land a good man on her own.

He truly believed he’d been more than patient with her.

Anything she wanted, he’d give it to her. Except marriage. Except a name.

Sariah’s bitter laugh hung soft in the air as she crumpled to the floor, broken. He’d had her for four years, and now that he was bored, he was just going to marry her off to some guy he could push around.

He controlled every part of her now, and he wanted to control her future too. Emory was cruel, through and through.

But it didn’t matter. Tonight, she was meeting Mr. Sullivan. Robert Sullivan was someone even Emory wouldn’t dare mess with. If she could marry him, this whole nightmare would be over.

The next day at Ridgeview Estates.

Every million-dollar mansion in the city was developed by Ridgeview Properties. The gated villa neighborhood Emory called home, and Robert Sullivan’s sprawling estate—both were part of this elite enclave.

Sariah wasn’t a stranger to Emory’s place. As his assistant, she’d picked him up here dozens of times. But every time she stepped through the gates, a knot twisted in her stomach. Maybe it was because she’d grown up orphaned, that she craved a real home more than most people ever could.

Emory kept her at arm’s length. The luxury high-rise apartment he’d given her was one of the niches in the city, but it was never a home.

It was just a gilded cage, built to keep her locked up.

Emory’s real home was here. And she would never have a spot in it.

"Your assistant’s here," Adelaide said, smiling as Sariah stepped inside.

Adelaide carried herself with the easy, innate authority of a woman born to be the lady of the house. It looked natural on her. Effortless.

Sariah had once daydreamed about what it would be like to marry Emory, to stand here as the woman of this house…

But now, the thought just made her want to laugh. She never belonged in this world of money and privilege.

"Miss Adelaide, I brought you a little gift."

Sariah had come with a handmade spiced honey cake.

She made these all the time for the kids back at the orphanage. It wasn’t expensive, but it came from the heart.

Not that anything she could afford would mean anything to a woman like Adelaide anyway.

Adelaide took the box, peeked inside, and smiled, glancing over at Emory. "Funny. Emory has this exact same cake in his car right now."

Emory’s brow furrowed, and the room went thick with tension.

He was probably convinced Sariah had brought the cake on purpose to start a fight with Adelaide. That she’d done it to make her look bad. He was already furious.

But Sariah had no idea Emory had any of her cake in his car. Honest.

"It’s just… Emory’s been too busy to eat breakfast lately, so I made an extra batch and left some at the office…" Sariah rushed to explain, her fingers going stiff with anxiety.

Her depression had been showing up more and more physically lately, and it was getting worse.

"Seems like Emory really loves the cake his assistant makes, huh? Bringing it out in the car with him," Adelaide murmured, her voice soft as silk.

But that softness hid a thousand sharp daggers.

Sariah dropped her gaze. She knew no matter what she said, Emory would just think she’d done this on purpose to provoke Adelaide.

"I’m not a fan. Probably tossed the whole thing in the trash, and my assistant fished it out and stuck it in the car," Emory answered casually, like it was no big deal.

Blame it on the random assistant and driver. Perfect scapegoat.

Sariah’s body went a little stiff. Trash… The cake she’d woken up at dawn to make, burned her hand pulling it out of the oven… it was just trash to Emory.

He’d stabbed her right where it hurt, and he didn’t even blink.

Adelaide smiled sweetly and told the housekeeper to get Sariah a pair of disposable slippers. "Don’t be nervous, come on. Let me introduce you to my friends."

Disposable slippers for Sariah, while all of Adelaide’s other guests had their own permanent guest slippers waiting.

It meant one thing: Sariah was only welcome here for today. Just this one visit.

Emory said Adelaide was sensitive, still raw from her divorce, but he didn’t get it—Sariah’s feelings were so much more fragile than Adelaide’s ever could be.

She was an orphan, raised in an orphanage. Reading room, reading people, that was how you survived. You learned to pick up on every little snub.

Emory definitely noticed the difference with the slippers. But he said nothing. He let it stand.

He accepted that Sariah was only good enough to be a one-time guest in his home.

"Let me introduce you all to Emory’s assistant—such a pretty young thing," Adelaide said, leading Sariah into the sunlit coffee room full of guests.

Sariah bowed her head in greeting, but when she lifted it, ice flooded her veins.

There were six people in the room…

Three of them were her old college classmates. The same three who’d bullied her nonstop back then.

Lily Kelly, Phoenix Patterson, Yvette Diaz…

Sariah froze solid, her whole body shaking uncontrollably, and her eyes flew to Emory, begging for help.

Maybe Adelaide didn’t know what happened between them. But Emory did. He had to.

He knew Adelaide was planning to invite these three. And he still made her come anyway.

Did he want to watch her break?