Page 49 of Obsessing Over His Favorite

Jacob moved quickly, pressing the button for the fifth floor. Then, he turned to her.

“How did you lose your memory?” he asked, eyes scanning her face as the doors slid shut behind them.

“Car accident,” she replied simply, turning her gaze to him. Her voice was flat, but her eyes held a flicker of pain. “Lucas said I jumped in front of the car because I was jealous of Amelia.”

Jacob froze for a second, then let out a low, seething growl.

“That fucking asshole,” he muttered, his jaw tightening. His entire expression darkened. “He doesn’t know you’ve lost your memory?”

She shook her head slightly. “I didn’t tell him.”

There was no hesitation in her voice now. Maybe it was just because he was Jeremy’s brother. She didn’t feel any fear or uncertainty when opening up to him.

Jacob exhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring. “Tell me everything later. In detail,” he said firmly, his voice laced with quiet anger.

She nodded silently.

The elevator ride was quiet. The only sound was the soft hum of movement and the faint echo of their breathing.

When the doors slid open, they walked straight down a quiet hallway and into a grand office space—polished floors, high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows casting golden light across designer furniture. It was luxurious, powerful. CEO territory.

Jacob didn’t pause.

He strode to a sleek cabinet along the far wall, yanked it open, and pulled out a thick stack of files. He dropped them onto the table with a dull thud that echoed in the stillness.

“Here. Look.”

Emily stared at the files, uncertain, then took a hesitant step forward. Her fingers trembled as she lifted the top folder and opened it.

And then—her breath caught.

Inside were dozens—no, hundreds—of jewelry designs. Intricate, elegant, dripping with a kind of artistry that made her eyes sting. Each one felt familiar in a way she couldn’t explain.

And at the bottom of every page, scrawled in delicate, unmistakable handwriting, was a single word.

‘Empress.’

Her chest tightened.

“What… what is this?” she whispered, her gaze locked on the pages, her voice barely audible.

Jacob crossed his arms, his eyes fixed on her.

“You still don’t get it?”

She slowly looked up, lost. “What are you talking about?”

He held her gaze for a long second, then said quietly, “Youare Empress, Emily.”

She blinked, stunned.

“You’re a famous jewelry designer.”

Her gaze snapped back to the pages. She flipped faster now, scanning each design with trembling hands. Her heart pounded. The shapes, the curves, the precise placement of each stone—she knew them. She didn’t even need to read the details. Her hands remembered drawing them.

“I made these…” she breathed, stunned.

“Yes. Every single one of them,” Jacob said, stepping closer. “And for years, you’ve been handing them over to Lucas while working under him like some intern. No credit. No payment. Nothing. Like a damn fool.”