"I… I’m not feeling well today. I feel terrible."

Emma was drenched in sweat, struggling to explain herself.

But neither of them listened.

Especially Mike—his temper had always been volatile.

Seeing her act so defiant, he snapped, "Emma, don’t push your luck. What’s so special about a stand-in like you? Have we spoiled you too much these past few years? Is that why you think you can act this way?"

"We don’t love you—let’s be clear on that. What makes you think you even deserve our love?"

Emma was already weak, her body barely holding up.

She hadn’t expected that just trying to explain herself would anger them this much.

"I’ll take you to pick it out in person tomorrow, alright? Stop acting entitled. You really think you’re something special?"

Mike didn’t wait for a response. He had already made up his mind.

Mike always kept his word, so early the next morning, he dragged Emma to a high-end boutique.

Luxury designer clothes filled the store, but Mike and Jeff didn’t bother asking Emma what she liked.

They simply ordered the sales staff to bring out all the latest collections.

Without hesitation, they swiped their cards, clearing out entire racks within minutes.

Just then, a salesgirl approached them with a respectful smile.

"Gentlemen, the exclusive designer S gown you pre-ordered has just arrived. Would you like to see it now?"

The moment they heard this, Mike and Jeff straightened up.

"Bring it out."

Several salesgirls carefully wheeled out a covered rack, the white silk cloth draped over it, making it clear just how valuable the item inside was.

When they pulled back the cloth, a dazzling white diamond dress was revealed.

It was crafted from rare, custom-made silk—one of the most expensive fabrics in the world.

Emma had only ever seen dresses like this in the news, ordered by heiresses for their loved ones.

Now, it was obvious—Mike and Jeff had ordered it.

And the "loved one" could only be Emilly.

Just as the two men leaned in to examine the suit details, a sudden commotion broke out at the entrance.

All heads turned to see a group of tattooed men swaggering in.

The man leading them stepped forward and ran his hands over the dress without care.

"How much for this one? I’ll take it."

The moment Emma saw his face, her blood ran cold.

Quinn Payton.

The Knapp family's biggest creditor.

The second she recognized him, a sense of dread sank into her stomach.

This man wasn’t here to buy a dress.

Before the Knapp family went bankrupt, they had ruined several of the Payton family’s major business deals. Quinn had never let it go. He had tried to settle the score with Emma countless times, but each time, Mike and Jeff intervened.

And now, he was here.

It definitely wasn’t just about this dress.

The instant Quinn laid a hand on the gown, Mike and Jeff’s faces darkened.

Without hesitation, Mike smacked his hand away and warned coldly, "What, Master Payton? Do you want to lose another finger?"

At those words, Quinn’s expression twisted.

The last time he had come looking for Emma, Mike’s bodyguards had broken one of his fingers. He had spent over a month in the hospital recovering.

He had never forgotten.

And now, were these two daring to stand against him again?

Quinn clenched his fists tightly, but his lips curled into a smirk.

"Oh? So you two can buy it, but I can’t?"

"I happen to like this dress today. I think I’ll take it with me."

Despite his gangster-like attitude, Quinn’s family had deep connections. Taking something from him wouldn’t be so easy.

Mike found this man nothing but a nuisance.

Jeff, on the other hand, looked completely exasperated.

"Quinn, don’t court death."

But the warning did nothing to deter Quinn. Instead, it only fueled his amusement.

"Oh? Is this rag of a dress really that important to you?" He smirked before his gaze slithered toward Emma, sharp and calculating. "How about this—you hand Emma over to me, and I’ll give you the dress."

His cold, snake-like stare sent a shiver down Emma’s spine. A flicker of malice danced in his eyes, making her skin prickle with unease.

She knew exactly what kind of man Quinn was.

What else could one expect from a Payton heir, born from a family drenched in filth?

The last time she escaped from him, she barely survived. That horrifying experience was still etched into her bones.

Mike and Jeff were beyond his reach, but she wasn’t.

For Quinn, crushing her would be as effortless as squashing an ant.

Emma’s breath hitched.

But within moments, she forced herself to calm down.

No.

Mike and Jeff wouldn’t let her die—not with them here.

Even if she was just a stand-in, five years together meant something… right?

They wouldn’t—

But then, her heart faltered.

This time, the choice was between her life and Emilly’s dress.

Whenever Emilly was involved, she ceased to exist in their eyes.

The room fell into suffocating silence.

Growing impatient, Quinn abruptly kicked the clothing rack, making the salesgirl next to him tremble in fear.

"Well? Have you decided?" His voice dripped with mockery. "If you keep stalling, I’ll just give this dress to my men. And then… heh, don’t even think about begging me. I heard this dress is Emilly’s favorite designer piece, isn’t it?"

He ran his fingers over the pristine white fabric, his filthy hands leaving a disgusting contrast against its purity.

Jeff’s jaw clenched. His temples throbbed.

"Enough."

He shoved Quinn aside, his expression eerily calm.

Then, without hesitation, he glanced at Mike and gave a slight nod.

"You can take her."

Emma’s mind went blank.

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

Did she hear that correctly?

Quinn let out a delighted chuckle, signaling his men to seize Emma by arms.

Cold sweat drenched her skin.

Before she could even process what was happening, Jeff suddenly turned to the salesgirl.

"What are you waiting for? Get them out of here. If they so much as touch the dress we ordered again, it’s on your heads."

Without a second thought, the staff rushed to shove both Quinn and Emma toward the exit.

As the heavy doors slammed shut behind her, Emma screamed their names with all the strength she had left.

But they didn’t turn around.

They didn’t even glance in her direction.

Instead, with pleased expressions, they admired the dress they were about to gift to Emilly.

Smack!

A sharp slap sent Emma’s head whipping to the side.

Quinn let out a dark chuckle.

"Still think they’d protect you?" he sneered. "Wake up. They’ve loved Emilly for over ten years—always watching her, worshiping her. You? You’re nothing. Just a replacement. A toy. Did you really think this was real?"

His laughter echoed in her ears.

"Hah! I bet they wouldn’t even blink if I killed you right now."

With that, his men hauled her toward the waiting car.

Emma barely resisted.

Because there was nothing left to resist.

The curtains inside the boutique had already been drawn.

She had been abandoned.

Between her and Emilly, Mike and Jeff had chosen without hesitation.

A rough bag was yanked over her head, plunging her into darkness.

Laughter and taunts filled the air, but Emma didn’t react.

Instead, she silently curled her fingers around the door handle, preparing herself for what came next.

Without hesitation, Emma stomped hard on Quinn’s foot.

A sharp scream tore through the air.

Taking advantage of the moment, she yanked the door handle and hurled herself out of the car.

The violent impact sent her rolling across the rough pavement, her headgear flying off from the force of friction.

Jagged stones scraped against her skin, tearing open fresh wounds on her cheek.

Blood trickled down her forehead as she gasped for breath, her wrists burning from the tight rope digging into her skin.

Gritting her teeth, she struggled to break free.

Despite the searing pain, she forced herself onto unsteady feet and stumbled toward the city lights in the distance.

She had no idea how long she had been walking.

At some point, she managed to hail a taxi.

When she finally arrived home, barely conscious, the nanny’s horrified gasp filled the air.

"Miss Knapp! I’ll call the gentlemen right away!"

Emma’s trembling fingers shot out, gripping the nanny’s wrist.

She shook her head violently.

The memory of the boutique played in her mind, and a cold chill crawled up her spine.

She was exhausted.

Drained.

Terrified.

Without another word, she dragged her battered body to her room and disappeared into the bathroom.

Standing before the mirror, she stared at the bloodied woman reflecting back at her.

Silently, she reached for the medicine box.

As she poured saline over her wounds, a sharp sting shot through her nerves, but she barely flinched.

By the time she was done, dawn had already crept in.

The house was eerily quiet.

Mike and Jeff hadn’t come home all night.

Only three days remained before Emilly’s return.

Time was slipping away too quickly.

She leaned against the cold wall, her gaze falling on the framed photos covering it.

Snapshots of the three of them.

Smiling.

Happy.

A lie.

Slowly, Emma pushed herself up and tore the pictures down one by one.

When the last one hit the floor, she scooped them all up and tossed them into the trash.

Things that didn’t matter didn’t deserve to remain.

That night, she slept deeply.

For the first time in a long while, she let go.

The noise woke her.

As her eyes fluttered open, she found Mike and Jeff standing at the edge of her bed.

Their faces were clouded with anger.

Before she could sit up, Mike hurled his phone at her, the device landing hard on the mattress beside her.

"Take a good look at what you’ve done!" he snapped.

Emma’s gaze dropped to the screen.

A news article flashed before her.

Quinn was in the hospital.

The Payton family had issued a statement, demanding that whoever had harmed their son come forward, kneel, and beg for forgiveness.

She studied the article for a long time.

Mike’s impatience flared. Just as he was about to lash out again, Emma finally spoke.

"Okay."

His brows furrowed. "What?"

"I’ll apologize," she said simply.

Then, she pulled the blanket over herself, retreating into silence.

The room was warm, but the chill inside her felt unbearable.

A bitter smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Her reaction unsettled them.

If she had fought back, screamed, or argued, it would have made sense.

But her quiet compliance left Mike and Jeff uneasy.

Jeff cleared his throat and spoke, his voice unusually soft.

"Didn’t you say you wanted to watch the shooting stars?"

Emma blinked.

"Let’s go tonight," he continued. "We pushed back our schedules."

She had mentioned it once. A long time ago.

It had been one of her wishes.

Something that wasn’t tied to Emilly.

For the first time, she had felt seen—like she mattered.

They had never agreed before.

But now, suddenly, they did.

She knew what it was.

A last-minute attempt to ease their guilt.

Crocodile tears.

It didn’t matter anymore.

"Only three days left," she murmured.

Jeff frowned. "What?"

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head.

Everything was ready.

That afternoon, Mike and Jeff took her to Payton estate.

For the first time since the Knapp family’s downfall, she stepped onto its grounds.

Inside, Quinn lounged on the sofa, his posture lazy yet exuding arrogance.

As Emma entered, his lips curled into a smirk.