Page 27 of Obsessing Over His Favorite

Amelia’s lower lip quivered as she glanced at Lucas, then back at Emily, fat tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Please don’t say things like that…”

Emily raised a brow in surprise. ‘She’s crying? Seriously? Waterworks that fast? Wow…’

Not to be outdone, Emily let out a soft cry, sniffling as she wiped at tears that never truly fell—but she was a convincing pretender.

“No, Amelia. I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling just enough to sound sincere. “You’ve been saying the same thing over and over for years. You must be exhausted. It’s clear everything is my fault.”

She gave a small shake of her head, voice lowering like she was trying to hold herself together.

“Please don’t feel sorry. Really, don’t worry about any of this. I don’t think there’s anything going on between you two. It’s just…” Her eyes flicked away. “I think I’ve come between something really close, something special. And I can’t even imagine how much that must be hurting you.”

With every word Emily uttered, Lucas’s jaw ticked harder. This wasn’t like the Emily he knew. She wasn’t angry, she wasn’t jealous, and she wasn’t emotional like before. She wasn’t reacting to the scandal at all.

But instead, she was cool. Distant. Emotionless. Like none of it even mattered to her anymore.

And worst of all—she was comforting Amelia.

Before he even realized it, his chest tightened. Her indifference felt like a slap. He had expected another emotional meltdown,more accusations, maybe even some shouting. But this… this calculated coolness?

He lost all patience.

Without a word, he marched over and grabbed Emily’s wrist, pulling her with him toward the stairs.

“Lucas?” Amelia called out in alarm, stepping forward.

“We should talk—”

“Mr. Walker!” Lucas’s voice thundered through the house.

The housekeeper came rushing into the living room.

“Show Ms. Jones out,” Lucas barked, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Amelia’s face flushed with shock and frustration. She glared at Emily being pulled away and then turned her anger on the housekeeper as he gestured for her to follow him to the front door.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Jones,” Mr. Walker said, already guiding her out.

Amelia clenched her fists, watching helplessly as Lucas dragged Emily up the stairs. Her jaw locked as the bedroom door slammed shut behind them with a deafening thud.

Upstairs, Lucas let go of Emily’s wrist as they entered the bedroom, making her stumble slightly from the abrupt stop.

“What the hell are you trying to pull?” he snapped, voice deep and furious. “Why are you pretending like this? And don’t you dare lie—you leaked those photos, didn’t you?”

Emily raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “I’m not pretending. This is exactly how I feel.” She crossed her arms. “I didn’t say anythingI didn’t mean. I really don’t care what you do, who you’re photographed with, or how you live your life. It’s none of my business anymore.”

His jaw ticked. He stormed toward her, grabbing her by the shoulders.

She winced in pain as his thumb dug into the old wound near her shoulder blade. She gripped his wrist. “Take your hand off me,” she said through clenched teeth.

But he didn’t stop. He pinned her against the wall, his broad frame closing in, caging her with his body.

“Emily,” he growled low, his breath hot against her skin, “stop the act already. I’m done playing this game with you. Every time—every damn time—you find something to fight about. To ruin my peace. You get jealous, create drama, and pretend to be the victim. I’m done with it.”

“I’m not pretending!” she shot back. “And I told you—let go of me!”

But instead of releasing her, his head dipped suddenly, and his mouth crashed down on hers. The kiss was hard, searing, desperate. She gasped, trying to pull away.

“No. Get off!” she gasped, pushing at his shoulder.