Chapter 21
Jul 18, 2025
Marian’s POV
I was raised to be perfect. Groomed for admiration, trained for applause. Every smile calculated, every answer polished. I was the woman people expected, the poised fiancée, the future Mrs. Remington.
But none of that seemed to matter to the one person who actually mattered to me.
Landon had been pulling away for weeks. Ignoring my calls. Dodging my questions. Making me feel like I wasn’t enough. And honestly? It was driving me insane.
For the third day in a row, his phone went straight to voicemail. No return texts. No updates.
Nothing but silence. I even called his assistant, who fed me some half-hearted line about Landon “needing space” and “turning off his devices.” A pathetic excuse.
Landon could be many things: busy, unpredictable, stubborn, but never unreachable.
I paced the sitting room of the Remington estate, the sound of my heels echoing against the polished marble. With every step, my irritation built. I wasn’t the kind of woman who waited by the phone.
I wasn’t the one people left out. Not anymore. Hovering over my phone, I hit the dial again. This time, I didn’t hesitate.
Portia picked up on the second ring. Her voice was clipped. “Yes?”
“Where is he?” I asked, skipping the pleasantries.
There was a pause, and I could practically hear the satisfaction in her silence. “He didn’t tell me.”
My eyes narrowed. “He always tells you.”
“Which means,” she said, dragging out each word, “you’re not the one he’s with.”
The color drained from my face. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Her tone was maddeningly calm. “It means he left. Quietly. Disconnected from the company, the board. Even me. And if he went off the grid and didn’t take you with him, then it’s not you he’s thinking about.”
My grip tightened around the phone. “Then I’ll go to him.”
She chuckled, the sound cold and dismissive. “You sound like a girl playing house in a dress that doesn’t fit.”
I blinked hard, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I’ve waited. I’ve defended him. I’ve been patient while you and Lily paraded around with your strategic matchmaking. I’ve stood beside him in meetings, in interviews, pretending the delay in the wedding meant nothing. Don’t act like I haven’t earned this.”
Portia didn’t flinch. “Loyalty isn’t currency. Results are.”
I turned toward the window, the late afternoon sun casting a sharp glare off the courtyard fountain. “So that’s it? I just step aside? Let her win?”
“There’s no need to let her win,” she said smoothly. “You don’t wait. You act. You find her weaknesses. You exploit them.”
I spun around, my voice low. “What weaknesses?”
“She left once, didn’t she?” Portia’s voice dropped. “That’s all we need. A reminder.”
I hesitated. “You think that’ll work?”
“If you want my son,” she said without pause, “then make sure she walks away first.”
The line went dead. I stayed where I was, still holding the phone, my palm damp against the smooth screen. The air in the room felt heavy, as if everything had suddenly shifted.
Slowly, I sat down on the edge of the couch, my pulse pounding hard in my throat as the pieces rearranged in my head.
Of course it was her. Emery. The quiet little ghost of a wife no one thought twice about, until now.
She had the baby, the sympathetic story, the surprise comeback. But none of that changed the facts. I had the history, I had the family’s support, I had the advantage.
She didn’t know this world the way I did.
She didn’t understand how fragile public perception could be, how quickly people turned when the right words were whispered in the right rooms. She didn’t know how a reputation could be buried beneath a headline.
How love could crumble into doubt with just enough pressure in the right places.
She had his attention, for now. But I knew how to play long-term. I wasn’t sentimental.
I didn’t need fairy tales. I needed a result. If Emery thought being the mother of his child gave her a permanent seat at the table, she was wrong.
Landon was still mine. He just needed to remember what that meant.
And if I had to tear down whatever false sense of belonging she thought she had to get there? So be it.
