Chapter 8
Everyone knew Braydon liked Caitlin–what they didn’t expect was just how far his affection for her would go.
It was only a birthday party, yet Braydon had flown in Caitlin’s favorite international pop star to perform live. Influential figures from all corners of society had shown up, and the entire event reeked of extravagance.
The banquet hall was opulently decorated–crystals and diamonds sparkled in every corner, and even the roses flown in from France were dusted with tiny gems.
At the height of the celebration, Caitlin appeared at the top of the staircase, dressed in a custom–made blue gown. The dress was tailored perfectly to conceal her baby bump while highlighting her figure. The moment she appeared, all eyes in the hall turned to her.
With a satisfied smile, Caitlin placed her hand in Braydon’s as he
offered it to her.
Just as she was about to step down the final stair, a yellow–clad figure burst into the hall.
“Hel… hello… Are you Mr. Braydon Lederer? I have a delivery for you.” The deliveryman panted, breathless from running.
Braydon frowned slightly but kept his voice composed. “Sorry, I’m a little busy right now. If it’s important, come back later.”
He gestured to the butler to take the deliveryman away.
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“But Mr. Lederer,” the man said quickly, “Ms. Corsie specifically told me to hand this to you personally. And she said you must open it right here, in front of everyone.”
At the sound of Emma’s name, Braydon froze.
He suddenly remembered her voice that morning. She’d sounded calm, distant–just like she always did when she had no intention of getting involved. After five years of marriage, he knew her well enough to recognize that tone.
There was a time when he might’ve coaxed her, tried to cheer her up. But things were different now. She’d hurt Caitlin too many times. If she was sincere about making amends and had brought a gift for Caitlin, he was willing to let it go for Caitlin’s sake.
But if she was just brushing him off with another excuse, then he’d continue to keep her at arm’s length until she finally admitted fault.
Now her gift had arrived right on time. But Emma herself? Nowhere to be seen.
“Where is she?” Braydon asked as he took the box, his gaze drifting
toward the entrance.
Under the flower–covered archway at the banquet hall doors, there was no one–just space.
The deliveryman hesitated. He tried to recall what Emma had told him but came up blank. She hadn’t left any message about where she was going. And he had other deliveries to make–he couldn’t afford to wait around.
So he made something up on the spot.
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“Ms. Corsie said once you open the box, you’ll understand everything.”
Braydon looked back at the package in his hands, just as a slender, fair hand landed gently on his.
“Braydon.”
He turned to Caitlin, concern softening his features. “What is it?”
She bit her lip, eyes filled with hesitation.
“Everyone’s waiting for the cake. Wouldn’t it be better to open gifts later?”
Her heart pounded with unease.
All the other guests had sent their presents before the party, and they’d been neatly placed in the corner, to be opened when she had time.
But Emma’s gift–delivered right in the middle of the party, handed directly to Braydon, with the specific request that he open it himself and in public–felt like a warning sign.
Something about this box felt dangerous.
It gnawed at her nerves–the fear that once it was opened, she’d be exposed, dragged down into some kind of abyss she couldn’t climb out of.
That’s why she had to stop him. Distract him. Get him to cut the cake instead.
As long as Braydon made the announcement in front of everyone that the child she carried was his only legal heir, and signed the documents securing the inheritance, then the Lederer family’s fortune would be
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Chapter 8
tied to her baby–and to her.
At that point, it wouldn’t matter what was inside the box.
No one–not even Emma–could threaten her again.
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