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

When Emma woke up, the sharp smell of disinfectant hit her nose.

She tilted her head slightly and saw Tyler sitting on the edge of the bed. His suit jacket was tossed over the chair, and his tie hung loosely. He furrowed his brows as he stared at her.

His voice sounded husky as he asked, "You're awake? What happened? How did you get into a fight with the fans?"

Emma's throat was dry as she struggled to speak. "The bag Ms. Garner gave me was empty."

Tyler's brow furrowed deeper. "Janice cares about her fans too much to ever do something like that."

Staring at him, Emma suddenly felt completely drained. "Will you ever believe me even once, Tyler?"

He froze for a second, surprised by how she had used his first name like that. Taking in her bandaged forehead and bruises on her arm, he finally softened his tone. "Janice has no reason to hurt you. That was just bad luck."

Emma's mouth twitched, but she didn't bother arguing.

Tyler's phone suddenly buzzed, and Janice's voice came through, choked with sobs. "The thunder is so loud, Tyler. I'm so scared."

Tyler jumped to his feet, his voice softer than anyone would ever expect. "Don't be scared. I'm coming back."

Then, he hurried off without even glancing back at Emma.

She watched him leave, remembering how he had once flown back overnight from Weyford just to hold her and comfort her when she had nightmares.

She withdrew her gaze and murmured, "That's 98th."

Soon enough, she would be back to being a police officer.

…

After that, Emma's phone kept blowing up with texts and photos from Janice.

One of the photos showed Tyler's back as he went shopping with Janice. Another captured him opening the car door for her.

Then, there was the moment he leaned in to listen to her with a gentle smile, even though he rarely showed his emotions.

Every photo was another twist of the knife already buried in Emma's chest. She quietly took in how Janice was flaunting but didn't text back.

The glow of the phone lit up her pale face. The gentle look in Tyler's eyes in those photos had once been directed at her, but she knew very well that she was just someone he had settled for.

That was why she had given up all hope. Now, she had no feelings left for him.

…

On the day Emma was discharged, her phone buzzed briefly. Tyler had sent an address with a short message. "Come here."

She fixed her gaze on the screen for a long moment, then called a ride.

She had just gotten out of the hospital, and he had already told her to head to the location he had sent.

Emma opened the private room door. Inside, the lighting was dim, and the air was thick with the stench of alcohol.

Janice was nestled against Tyler, and her eyes sparkled the moment she saw Emma. "Emma's here."

Tyler motioned at the table full of drinks. "Janice is on her period. Drink these for her."

Emma stiffened. "I'm allergic to alcohol."

Sandra Hall, Janice's friend, remarked, "Why are you acting all high and mighty? You're just a bodyguard. Stop throwing an attitude. You should put your staff in line, Mr. Manning."

Tyler's gaze turned sharp. "Drink up."

Emma took a deep breath and picked up the glass. The first gulp scorched her throat.

Someone nearby added with a grin, "Mr. Manning really doted on Janice. Last time, he ended up buying the entire auction to get the limited edition piano for her."

Emma downed the second glass.

The conversation continued around her. "I remember when Janice had a fever, Mr. Manning flew back from abroad overnight and stayed by her side for three days and nights."

By the third drink, Emma's vision started to blur.

One of the people in the private room stated, "Honestly, Mr. Manning really spoils Janice rotten."

Emma kept knocking the drinks back until her face was burning and her breathing was ragged. With sheer willpower, she finished her last drink. As she set down her glass, her vision went black.