The Cold-Hearted CEO Chose His First Love Over Our Dying Son

Tyler left the room and never came back, but Emma didn't dwell on it. She just took her time and spent two days packing up.

She sorted out the gifts Tyler had given her, planning to donate all of them. When she was halfway done, the door suddenly swung open.

Janice leaned against the doorframe, eyeing the jewelry on the floor. She snickered. "What are you doing?"

Emma didn't respond and kept sorting out the drawer.

Janice remarked, "All of these jewelry pieces are from my favorite brands."

She walked in, holding up a diamond necklace with one finger. "I had one just like this back when I turned 18."

Then, she kicked the stuffed toys in the corner, saying, "I used to like these too."

She caught sight of the lilies by the window and giggled. "Even the flowers have to match my taste. Tyler really can't let go of the past."

Emma's hands froze mid-motion. Taking in the room, she suddenly realized that everything in it whispered someone else's story.

She had cherished the gifts and the surprises she thought Tyler had picked with care. It turned out they were just afterthoughts meant for a substitute.

Emma's chest tightened, and she felt a lump in her throat.

She knew what Janice was getting at. She swallowed the suffocating feeling and calmly said, "I know you're the one he truly loves. Don't worry. I won't be around much longer."

Janice raised an eyebrow. "Where could you possibly go? You don't even know who you are."

Just then, Tyler's voice came through the door. "What's going on?"

Janice's expression shifted in an instant. Her eyes welled up with tears, and her voice was full of hurt. "Emma suddenly started packing and said she was leaving, Tyler. Is she still mad at me? I just wanted to apologize."

Frowning, Tyler pulled Janice behind him, his gaze toward Emma cold and sharp. "You did nothing wrong. You don't have anything to be sorry for."

Emma took a deep breath. She was about to speak when Tyler beat her to it. "How long are you going to keep this up, Emma?"

She retorted, "I'm not making a scene."

His expression darkened. "That's not the truth, and you know it. You've lost your memory. Where can you even go? Stop playing hard to get. I don't have time for your games."

She tried to speak, wanting to tell him that she remembered everything now and was going back to her old life.

But he interrupted her. "I'm heading to an art exhibition with Janice soon. You're coming too."

Emma swallowed the words on the tip of her tongue. Then, she closed her suitcase without a word and went to get changed.

On their way there, Emma quietly trailed behind Tyler and Janice.

Warm lights filled the gallery. Janice pointed at an abstract painting, smiling as she chatted with Tyler. With his head slightly lowered, his side profile looked more defined under the light. His eyes lit up as he replied from time to time.

Emma couldn't understand what they were talking about.

Another memory came rushing back to her. When she used to gush about the new dessert place near the street or that stray cat in the neighborhood that always rubbed against her legs, he would just smile. He hardly ever responded.

Back then, she figured he was just the quiet type who preferred to listen. Only now did she realize that he simply wasn't interested.

Tyler was a big shot in the business world, and Emma was just a police officer doing her job. They came from completely different worlds and had nothing in common to talk about.

Janice suddenly hooked her arm around Tyler's. "I'm tired. Let's head home."

Emma pulled herself together and escorted them out.

As they left the gallery, she instinctively squinted against the harsh sunlight. Just then, a scream tore through the air before she could even react.

"No way! It's Janice, the famous pianist. Can you sign an autograph for me, Janice? I'm a big fan of your concerts."

The crowd poured in from all sides, trapping them in the middle. Emma instinctively positioned herself in front of Tyler but was shoved backward by the frantic crowd.

A woman was flushed with excitement, waving a sign with Janice's picture on it. A few fans shoved their way forward, their phones nearly bumping into her.

Janice seemed startled and shrank back into Tyler's arms, then apologetically grinned, "Please calm down, everyone. I have some signed photos in my car."

Emma wasted no time signaling the other bodyguards to form a human shield as she escorted Tyler and Janice to the parking lot.

The crowd jostled her, pulling at her sleeve and stepping on her foot. But she kept her guard up, painstakingly clearing a way forward.

When they got to the car, Janice grabbed a luxury bag from the back seat and tossed it to Emma. "There are photos inside. Give them to everyone."

Emma didn't take it. "Sorry. My job is to keep Mr. Manning safe."

Tyler didn't glance back from where he sat in the driver's seat as he spoke, his voice cold as ice. "From now on, Janice's orders are the same as mine."

The words stabbed into Emma's heart like a knife. She took the bag with a blank look, her fingers shaking as she spun on her heels.

After getting out of the car, she finally got the fans to follow her into a side alley, saying she was giving out autographed pictures.

The fans were getting impatient. "Hurry up! What are you waiting for?"

But when Emma checked inside the bag, she found it empty.

One of the fans asked, "What happened? Where are Janice's signed photos?"

Someone accused Emma, saying, "She must have kept the photos for herself."

Another voice came from the crowd. "That's shameless! How can you steal Janice's stuff?"

The angry fans swarmed Emma, yanking her hair and pushing her roughly.

She shouted, "I didn't!"

A fan nearby spat, "Hand over the autographs, you bitch!"

Emma barely managed to shield her head as she tried to turn back and confront Janice, but all she saw was Tyler's car speeding away.

A brutal kick to her knee sent her to the ground. Fists flew, heels kicked out, and curses rained down like hail.

"Go to hell, you thief!"

Having a police badge, however, meant never laying a hand on civilians. All Emma could do was curl into a ball, protecting her vitals as the kicks kept coming. Blood trickled down her forehead, clouding her vision.

Just before she blacked out, faint sirens sounded in the distance. Someone cried out, "Enough! She's bleeding."

Everything faded to black as Emma drowned in the depths of darkness.