Chapter 3: The Enemy Behind the Smile
I read the message three times before the meaning finally settled in.
*You should have kept your daughter away from Westbridge.*
And underneath it:
*Thomas Blake.*
The name felt like a shadow spreading across everything I thought I understood.
My father quickly locked his phone screen.
Too quickly.
"Emily, I need you to listen carefully.""
I looked at him.
"Am I in danger?""
He didn't answer immediately.
That was worse than a yes.
"Dad.""
He walked toward the office door and locked it.
The sound of the click echoed.
"I don't know exactly what Thomas is planning.""
"But you think he sent someone after me.""
"I think someone wanted you at Westbridge for a reason.""
My stomach twisted.
"Madison?""
My father shook his head.
"I don't know.""
"But she humiliated me in front of the entire school.""
"I know.""
"And her family name is Blake.""
"I know.""
His voice became softer.
"That doesn't mean Madison knows everything.""
I remembered the look on her face when Ryan revealed who I was.
The shock.
The confusion.
For a second, she looked almost afraid.
Then I remembered the bucket.
The laughter.
The phones recording.
"She knew enough to hurt me.""
My father looked down.
"I agree.""
There was a pause.
Then he said something I never expected.
"I'm sorry.""
I blinked.
"What?""
"I should have told you more.""
He sat across from me.
"Your mother always believed secrets created bigger problems than the truth. I spent years trying to protect you from the world she warned me about.""
I looked at the documents.
"And now the world found me anyway.""
He didn't argue.
That hurt the most.
By the time I returned to class, everyone knew.
Of course they did.
Westbridge Academy was a place where rumors traveled faster than announcements.
As I walked through the hallway, conversations stopped.
Students looked at me differently.
Yesterday, I was the girl with the cheap backpack.
Today, I was the billionaire's daughter.
But somehow, I felt even more alone.
A group of girls near the lockers whispered as I passed.
"That's her.""
"Jonathan Carter's daughter.""
"I heard she owns part of the company.""
"I thought she was pretending to be poor.""
The words followed me.
Not loudly.
Just enough.
I hated it.
Because I had finally gotten what I wanted.
People knew my name.
And now they didn't know me at all.
When I entered history class, Ryan looked up immediately.
His expression softened.
"Hey.""
I sat down.
"Hey.""
He hesitated.
"How are you doing?""
I looked at the empty seat beside him.
"Honestly?""
"Yeah.""
"I don't know.""
He nodded.
"Fair.""
The teacher walked in a moment later, but nobody focused.
Not after everything.
Halfway through class, a folded piece of paper landed on my desk.
I looked around.
Everyone was pretending not to watch.
I opened it.
*Meet me after school. Library. We need to talk.*
No name.
But I knew.
Madison.
After the bell rang, I waited ten minutes before going.
Part of me wanted to ignore it.
The other part wanted answers.
When I entered the library, Madison was standing near the back shelves.
No Chloe.
No Brooke.
No audience.
That surprised me.
She looked different without her friends around.
Less powerful.
More human.
"I almost didn't come," I said.
Madison crossed her arms.
"Believe me, I almost didn't ask.""
I stared at her.
"Then why am I here?""
She looked away.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she said:
"My father wants to meet you.""
I laughed quietly.
"After what you did yesterday?""
Her face tightened.
"I know.""
"Do you?""
She looked at me.
"I messed up.""
The apology was so unexpected that I almost didn't know how to react.
Almost.
"You dumped dirty water on my head in front of the entire school.""
"I know.""
"You ruined my lunch.""
"I know.""
"People recorded it.""
Her eyes dropped.
"I know.""
I stepped closer.
"Then why are you acting like one apology fixes it?""
"It doesn't.""
Her voice was quieter.
"I know it doesn't.""
Something about that answer caught me off guard.
Madison Blake admitting she was wrong felt impossible.
But I wasn't ready to forgive her.
Not even close.
"So what does your father want?""
She looked nervous.
"My father saw the video.""
"And?""
"He wasn't angry because you were embarrassed.""
I frowned.
"Then why?""
She swallowed.
"Because he recognized your name.""
The room went silent.
I studied her.
"Your father knows mine?""
Madison nodded slowly.
"More than you think.""
A chill moved through me.
"How much?""
She didn't answer.
Instead, she walked to a nearby table and placed something down.
A photograph.
I picked it up.
It was old.
The edges were worn.
Three men stood outside a building under construction.
I recognized one immediately.
My grandfather.
The other was a younger version of my father.
The third man...
Thomas Blake.
My fingers tightened around the photo.
"Where did you get this?""
"My father's office.""
"Why?""
Madison looked uncomfortable.
"Because he keeps old things.""
"What kind of things?""
She looked at me.
"Things that remind him of what he lost.""
I placed the photo down.
"Your father hates mine.""
"Yes.""
"Why?""
Madison hesitated.
"My entire life, I've heard one story.""
"What story?""
"That your family destroyed ours.""
I stared at her.
"And you believed it?""
She looked ashamed.
"I didn't question it.""
"Why?""
She gave a small, bitter laugh.
"Because everyone in my house believed it.""
I looked at the photograph again.
For the first time, Madison wasn't the spoiled girl from the cafeteria.
She was someone who had inherited a grudge she didn't create.
But that didn't erase what she did.
"What does your father plan to do?""
Madison looked toward the library windows.
"I don't know.""
"That's not true.""
Her eyes met mine.
And I saw fear.
Real fear.
"He has been talking about Carter Developments for months.""
My chest tightened.
"Why?""
She lowered her voice.
"Because he says something belongs to him.""
"What?""
She looked at me.
"You.""
I froze.
"What?""
"My father believes your mother's shares should have gone to the Blake family.""
The room seemed to shrink.
"Why would he think that?""
"I don't know.""
Madison looked away.
"But yesterday, when he saw you at school...""
She stopped.
"When he saw me?""
"He said something.""
"What?""
She swallowed.
"He said, 'The Carter girl finally showed up.''"
A cold feeling ran through me.
The same phrase from the message.
The Carter girl.
Not Emily.
Not a person.
A target.
Before I could respond, the library doors opened.
A student walked in carrying a stack of books.
Madison immediately stepped away from me.
Her entire expression changed.
The mask returned.
I noticed.
She noticed me noticing.
"I can't let people know I told you this.""
I frowned.
"Why?""
She picked up the photograph.
"Because my father would never forgive me.""
"Why would he care what you do?""
Her hand tightened around the picture.
"Because he doesn't see you as a person, Emily.""
She looked directly at me.
"He sees you as the last piece of a war that started before we were born.""
Then she walked away.
I stood there, trying to process everything.
My father.
My mother.
The Blakes.
The company.
The secrets.
Everything was connected.
And somehow, I was standing in the middle of it.
That night, I sat at my desk staring at my mother's letter.
I reread every word.
Looking for something I missed.
Something hidden.
Something that explained why my mother left me twenty percent of a company and a family enemy.
Then I noticed something.
At the bottom of the page.
A sentence written smaller than the rest.
Almost like she didn't want anyone else to see it.
I held the paper closer.
*Emily, trust your father—but not everyone who works for him.*
My heart started beating faster.
I grabbed my phone and called my father.
He answered immediately.
"Emily?""
"Dad.""
I looked at the letter.
"Who works for you that I should know about?""
Silence.
A long silence.
Then my father's voice changed.
"Where did you see that?""
"It was in Mom's letter.""
Another pause.
Then:
"Emily, listen to me carefully.""
His voice was low.
"Do not go anywhere alone tomorrow.""
My grip tightened around the phone.
"Why?""
Because I heard something in the background.
A door opening.
Then my father's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Because the person your mother was warning you about...""
A sudden noise interrupted him.
A crash.
"Dad?""
Nothing.
"Answer me.""
I heard breathing.
Then a man's voice.
Not my father's.
A stranger's.
"Hello, Emily.""
My blood turned cold.
The man spoke again.
"Your father should have told you the truth years ago.""
The call disconnected.
May you like
And on my phone screen, one new message appeared.
*UNKNOWN NUMBER: Stop digging into your mother's secrets, or the next thing you lose won't be your lunch.*
