Chapter 30
Jul 18, 2025
Emery’s POV
If Portia Remington wanted a war, she should have picked someone else. Someone who hadn’t just survived labor, heartbreak, and betrayal. But she didn’t. Instead, she got me.
The message came through Landon’s assistant, formal, cold, and carefully worded like a truce. Portia wanted a meeting. Said it was “for the child’s sake.”
I said yes, but only on my terms. No press, no board members, no staff hiding just out of sight. Just the three of us, in a room where no one else could listen in.
The private sitting room at the Remington estate was too clean, too polished. It had the feeling of a place designed for show, like no one ever sat there unless it was for appearances.
I arrived early, wearing black slacks and a crisp white blouse. I had zero patience and sat down hard on one of the couches, folding my arms, waiting.
Portia arrived right on time. Her heels clicked across the floor like the ticking of a clock, steady, sharp, demanding attention.
She walked in with that air she always had, the one where she thought she was both superior and charming.
“Emery,” she said, voice smooth and practiced. It was the same tone she used every time she wanted to remind me who I was dealing with. I didn’t bother to smile. I stayed where I was.
She sat down opposite me, crossing her legs with perfect poise. She clutched her purse tightly, like it was a shield.
“I came to keep peace, for the child’s sake,” she said carefully, every word measured and diplomatic.
I leaned back in my chair and met her gaze evenly. “Then listen carefully.” Her eyes flickered, uncertain for the first time. “You will respect me. You will keep your distance. And you will never. Never, mention my daughter. Not in this house. Not to anyone.”
Her lips pressed thin, tight, as if she was trying not to lose control.
“You forget who you’re speaking to,” she said quietly, but there was no real threat in it.
I stood slowly, deliberately. I walked toward her until I was standing just a few inches away. I didn’t yell or raise my voice. I let my words carry the weight.
“Say one word against me,” I said, my voice steady and cold like steel, “and I swear on her name, you will never see her again.”
The room fell silent. Her face didn’t change. She didn’t say a thing. Because she knew I meant every word. Then the door behind me opened.
Landon stepped in. Calm, firm. His eyes locked on his mother’s like a challenge.
He came to stand beside me, his hand settling lightly on the small of my back, solid and certain.
“You heard her,” he said quietly, but there was no mistaking the strength in his voice. “This is her family now. And I stand with my wife.”
Portia looked between us, a flicker of something, defeat, maybe, crossing her face. For the first time since I’d met her, she had nothing to say.
Because there was nothing left to say. I had silenced her.
I turned without another word and walked out of the room. Landon followed. His arm slipped around my shoulders as we stepped into the quiet hallway.
No cameras. No reporters. No screaming headlines. Just him and me.
And in that moment, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Power.
Not the kind that comes from money or titles, but the kind that comes from standing your ground and refusing to back down.
More than power, there was peace. Because I hadn’t just taken my voice back. I used it.
And now, no one, not even Portia Remington, could take it away from me.
