Chapter 26
Emma barely had time to process the threatening note from the day before when another wave of chaos hit her like a freight train. She was still sitting in her hospital bed as she read the headline:
“Barrett Marriage Exposed: Leaked Contract Reveals Shocking Financial Agreement!”
Each word felt like a physical blow, every sentence designed to strip away any shred of dignity she had left. Emma’s chest tightened as she scrolled through the damning analysis, accompanied by side-by-side photos of her and Alex, captured at events that now felt like another lifetime.
Beside her, Thomas read over her shoulder, his face darkening with every word. His jaw tightened, and his hand curled into a fist, knuckles white against the pressure.
“This is low,” he said, his voice sharp and unyielding. “Even for them. They’re twisting it to make it look like you married Alex for money.”
Emma swallowed hard, but her throat felt dry. Her voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper. “People will believe it. They’ve already painted me as a gold-digger. This just… confirms it for them.”
Thomas turned to her, his expression fierce, his eyes blazing with protective intensity. “It doesn’t confirm anything except how desperate the Diaz family is to destroy you.”
Emma shook her head, her voice trembling. “That won’t matter. The damage is already done. My name is all over this, my life—everything Alex and I built—reduced to a scandal. It doesn’t matter that it’s a lie. Perception is reality for people.”
Thomas leaned closer, his tone unwavering. “Then we change the perception. We fight this.”
By noon, the media frenzy was unstoppable. Social media was flooded with speculation and vitriol, with hashtags like #MarriageForMoney and #BarrettScandal feels like it’s trending almost worldwide. News segments dissected every clause of the leaked contract, turning the cold, legal language into fuel for sensational headlines.
“Emma Barrett: Opportunist or Genius?”
“Inside the Barrett Marriage: A Contractual Love Story.”
“The Price of Love: Emma Barrett’s Deal Revealed.”
Emma turned off her phone after reading a particularly cruel comment calling her a “parasite who preyed on a lonely billionaire.”
Thomas found her curled up on the hospital bed, staring blankly out the window.
“Hey,” he said softly, pulling up a chair beside her. “Don’t let them get to you. This is exactly what they want.”
She looked at him, tears pooling in her eyes, her hands still trembling as she clutched her phone. “I’m so tired, Thomas. Every time I think it can’t get worse, it does. They won’t stop until there’s nothing left of me.”
Thomas reached for her hand, his touch steady and reassuring. “They’re tearing at the surface, Emma. But they can’t touch the core of who you are. And anyone who really knows you—anyone who matters—won’t believe a word of this garbage.”
Thomas’s words were comforting, but they didn’t silence the storm brewing in Emma’s mind. The public attacks were relentless, and her absence from Barrett Industries only seemed to embolden her critics.
“I should never have signed that contract,” Emma said bitterly later that evening. “I thought it would give me control, stability. But all it did was give them a weapon to use against me.”
Thomas leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. “You didn’t know this would happen. And honestly, the contract isn’t the problem. It’s the way they’re twisting it.”
Emma looked at him, her eyes filled with despair.
“And what am I supposed to do now? I’ve lost control of the narrative, Thomas. Everyone thinks I’m some scheming mercenary who only married Alex for his bank account.”
“You fight back,” Thomas said simply. “You tell your story—the real story. Not for the media, not for the Diaz family, but for yourself.”
Emma let out a shaky breath, her shoulders sagging under the weight of Thomas’s words.
Tell my story?
The idea felt impossible, daunting in the face of the tidal wave of lies and manipulation crashing around her. She shook her head, the disbelief evident in her trembling voice.
“How?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “How do I fight back against something this big? They’ve already poisoned the well, Thomas. Anything I say will just sound like an excuse.”
Thomas’s gaze didn’t waver. He stepped closer, his presence steady and grounding. “You don’t fight on their terms. You don’t stoop to their level. You remind the world who you really are—not the caricature they’re painting.”
Emma laughed bitterly, her voice tinged with frustration. “And who is that? The woman who married a billionaire under contract? The one who trusted the wrong people and ended up here?”
“The woman who’s survived every storm life has thrown at her,” Thomas said firmly, his voice laced with quiet conviction. “The one who built her career from the ground up. The one who fought for her marriage, even when it cost her everything.”
Emma’s throat tightened, emotion swelling inside her. She didn’t respond, but the words lingered, planting the faintest seed of resolve.
The next morning, Thomas’s actions spoke louder than any promises. He called in a private security team, ensuring no one unauthorized could access Emma’s room again. He spent hours on calls with Marcus, digging into the Diaz family’s network, determined to dismantle their smear campaign piece by piece. And when Emma’s strength faltered under the weight of relentless attacks, he was there—offering quiet reassurance, his steady presence a reminder she wasn’t alone.
For Emma, the days blurred into one another, each attack chipping away at her composure. But every time she felt herself slipping, Thomas was there to pull her back, piece by piece, he became a constant presence in Emma’s life. He arranged for private security to guard her hospital room, helped Marcus dig deeper into the source of the leaked contract, and provided emotional support when the weight of the attacks became too much to bear.
At first, Emma felt uneasy leaning so heavily on him. But Thomas’s steady confidence and unwavering belief in her gradually chipped away at her walls.
“You’re much stronger than you think,” Thomas told her one evening as they went over strategies to counter the latest media storm. “Most people would have crumbled by now. But you’re still standing. And that’s why they’re afraid of you.”
Emma felt her lips curve into a faint smile. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”
Thomas shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. “It’s a talent. One of many, I might add.”
The days blurred together, and Emma found herself looking forward to Thomas’s visits more than she expected. He had a way of making her laugh, even in the darkest moments, and his unwavering support gave her a sense of stability she hadn’t felt in weeks.
One evening, as they sat together in her hospital room, Thomas handed her a cup of tea and settled into the chair beside her bed.
“You know,” he said, his tone lighter than usual, “you’re one of the most remarkable people I’ve ever met.”
Emma looked at him in surprise. “That’s… a lot to say, considering everything that’s happened.”
“No, it’s not.” Thomas shook his head. Most people would have let this kind of pressure break them. But you? You’re fighting back, even when the odds are stacked against you. That’s rare, Emma. And it’s worth admiring.”
Emma looked away, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the hospital blanket. Thomas’s words lingered in the air, unsettling in their sincerity. It wasn’t just the weight of his belief in her that unnerved her—it was the way it made her feel. A flicker of warmth, of hope, that she couldn’t afford to entertain.
She felt a warmth spread through her chest, though she quickly dismissed it. “You’re giving me too much credit,” she said softly.
“I don’t think I am,” Thomas replied, his voice steady but gentle.
The silence that followed was charged, a quiet understanding passing between them that neither dared to address outright. Emma cleared her throat, shifting slightly in her bed. “I’m just trying to keep my head above water.”
“You’re doing more than that,” Thomas said, his gaze unwavering.
As other days stretched on, the atmosphere between them shifted, softening into something Emma couldn’t quite define. Thomas was a constant presence—steady, unshakable, and fiercely protective. Their conversations, once centered on strategy and survival, grew longer and more personal.
In those stolen moments, Emma found herself opening up in ways she hadn’t expected. She told him stories of her childhood, her ambitions, the dreams she’d once had before the weight of her current life buried them. Thomas listened intently, his eyes never leaving hers, his responses thoughtful and sincere.
For Thomas, each word she shared deepened the ache he couldn’t ignore. He admired the fire in her, the unrelenting strength she wielded even as the world conspired against her. But it was the vulnerability she allowed him to glimpse—the quiet cracks in her armor—that captivated him most.
He caught himself watching her too often, memorizing the curve of her smile when she dared to let it slip through the chaos. The way her eyes glimmered with hope, even when everything seemed lost, stirred something in him he hadn’t anticipated.
Thomas knew the timing was all wrong. Emma was still grieving the wreckage of her life with Alex, still locked in a battle for her reputation and her future. But despite his best efforts to suppress it, his feelings for her grew stronger with each passing day.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and bathed the hospital room in a warm, amber glow, Thomas lingered by her bedside. Emma smiled softly, murmuring a quiet thanks for his unwavering presence.
“I don’t know how I would have gotten through this without you,” she admitted, her voice trembling with emotion.
Thomas hesitated, his heart pounding. Before he could stop himself, he leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Emma, there’s something I need to tell you.”
But before he could say another word, the door burst open, and Jack stormed in, his expression dark and urgent. “We have a problem.”
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