Chapter 12

Stefan's POV

I sat alone in the vast living room, the leather of the couch cold beneath me despite the hours I'd spent there. Outside the window, snowflakes drifted lazily to the ground, adding to the growing blanket of white. My jaw clenched as I stared at nothing, replaying last night's auction in my mind for what felt like the hundredth time.

Three hundred million. Gone in an instant. And for what? Some old man with more money than sense outbidding me on the only thing I truly wanted from that whole damn auction.

"Who the hell was he?" I muttered, rubbing my temples. "Why did he have to go after that specific necklace?"

The ruby had gleamed under the auction house lights, deep red like fresh blood, exactly as I remembered it around my mother's neck. Her smile, so gentle and warm, flashed through my memory. The way she would bend down, the pendant swinging forward as she kissed my forehead before bed. The ruby catching the light as she laughed.

That necklace was the last physical connection to her I could have recovered. Everything else had been lost or taken or destroyed over the years.

Jonathan approached quietly, setting down a steaming cup of tea beside me. "Sir, you've been sitting here for three hours now. Perhaps you'd like to rest for a while?"

I looked up at him, his lined face showing concern he tried to mask with professionalism. "She's not back yet?" I asked, my voice coming out colder than I intended.

"Miss Emily should be returning shortly," Jonathan replied, his posture perfect as always.

I glanced toward the window again, watching the snow falling more heavily now. What was she doing out in this weather? The thought came unbidden, surprising me with its intensity. Why should I care where she went or what she did?

Still, I couldn't help but picture her slight frame against the bitter cold, the way she always seemed one strong wind away from toppling over. Her medical file had been quite clear about her condition.

"She should be staying inside in this weather," I said, more to myself than to Jonathan.

My fist clenched involuntarily. What was wrong with me? We had an arrangement, nothing more. Her comings and goings were none of my business.

I caught the sound of tires on the driveway and found myself moving to the window before I could stop the impulse. A car was pulling up, snow sliding off its roof. I quickly stepped back, forcing myself to return to the couch and pick up my tablet, pretending to be absorbed in whatever was on the screen.

The front door opened, bringing with it a brief gust of cold air. I kept my eyes fixed on my tablet, but my attention was entirely focused on the soft footsteps approaching the living room. Emily appeared in the doorway, her cheeks flushed from the cold, looking tired but somehow... different. There was something in her expression I couldn't quite read.

Our eyes met briefly before I deliberately looked away, uncomfortable with the unexpected leap my heart gave at the sight of her. What the hell was that about?

A thousand questions flooded my mind. Where had she been? Why go out in this weather? Couldn't she have worn something warmer? But I remained silent, my pride preventing me from showing any interest.

From the corner of my eye, I watched as she approached me, placing a small black velvet box on the coffee table between us. My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the distinctive shape and size.

"What's this?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral despite my racing thoughts.

"A New Year's gift," Emily said softly, her voice slightly unsteady from the cold. Her lips were pale, almost bluish. "One of my patients gave it to me. I thought... maybe you'd like it."

I stared at her, trying to make sense of what she was saying. A patient gave her something valuable enough to come in a jewelry box? I noticed she was shivering slightly, her thin frame seemingly unable to warm up even inside the heated room.

I wanted to ask why she'd been out in such terrible weather, why she hadn't dressed more appropriately, but instead I just nodded stiffly. "Thank you."

Emily lingered for a moment as if waiting for something more, then turned and headed upstairs. I watched her retreating figure, conflicted emotions churning inside me.

Once she was gone, I reached for the box, curiosity overcoming my attempt at indifference. What kind of gift would one of her patients give her that she'd immediately pass on to me?

I carefully opened the black velvet case, and my breath caught in my throat. There, nestled against dark silk, lay the exact ruby necklace I had bid on last night - the one that had belonged to my mother. The deep crimson stone caught the light, seeming to glow from within, exactly as I remembered.

"This isn't..." Jonathan started, his usual composure momentarily shattered.

"Who gave this to her?" I cut him off, unable to take my eyes off the necklace as I lifted it from the box. The weight was familiar somehow, even though I hadn't held it since I was a child. "Do you know what this is worth?"

"I believe it was Mr. Wilson, sir - the elderly chairman of Wilson Investment Group. Miss Emily has been providing counseling services for him."

Wilson. The name clicked immediately. Edward Wilson, one of the wealthiest men in the country. So he was the mysterious bidder who had outbid me at the auction. And now, inexplicably, Emily had brought the necklace to me.

I ran my finger over the central ruby, memories flooding back. My mother wearing it at formal events, the way she would hold me close, the stone cool against my cheek as a child. The last time I saw it around her neck, just days before she died.

"Jonathan," I said finally, handing him the box with the necklace inside. "Take this to the family estate tomorrow."

Jonathan looked confused. "Sir? Don't you wish to thank Miss Emily personally?"

I stood up, my mind made up. "I need to understand more about this situation first." The necklace was my mother's legacy - it belonged in the family vault until I could figure out exactly what was happening. And I needed to find a way to properly compensate Emily. A gift of this magnitude couldn't go unacknowledged, regardless of our arrangement.

I strode toward my study, my thoughts in turmoil. The snow continued to fall outside, heavier now, reflecting my increasingly complex feelings about the woman who had just handed me back a piece of my past.

In my study, I stood by the window, watching the snowstorm intensify. Picking up my phone, I dialed Michael.

"I need information on Edward Wilson," I said without preamble. "Specifically, his connection to Emily Eugins."

Michael was efficient as always. Within minutes, he called back with the details.

"Wilson is Emily's patient. He moved to Oak City about six months ago for health reasons. Apparently, she's been extraordinarily attentive to his care, and he's nearly recovered under her counseling."

I frowned at this information. "Their relationship?"

"From what I can gather, he sees her as something of a granddaughter. He's quite fond of her - talks about her to anyone who'll listen."

"And the auction last night? That was definitely him?"

"Yes," Michael confirmed. "He paid three hundred million for the ruby necklace. Word is he bought it as a gift for 'someone he cherishes most.' Seems that's your wife."

After hanging up, I sat at my desk, pulling out Emily's file again. I flipped through pages of background information that suddenly seemed inadequate. For someone living under my roof, someone carrying my name, I realized I knew remarkably little about her beyond the basics.

She presented herself as timid and frail, yet she had somehow earned the affection of one of the most powerful businessmen in the country. She had ventured out alone in a snowstorm. And now she had casually handed over a three-hundred-million-dollar family heirloom as if it were nothing more than a thoughtful gesture.

I recalled the way she had obediently worn that ridiculous brown scarf I'd picked out without a single complaint. The memory brought an unexpected smile to my face before I caught myself, frowning at my own reaction.

What was I thinking? This arrangement was meant to be simple, uncomplicated. Yet nothing about Emily Eugins - no, Emily Ashford now - was turning out to be simple at all.

I looked back at the snow falling outside, my thoughts as turbulent as the storm. Perhaps there was more to my quiet, seemingly fragile wife than I had initially assumed. The question was: what exactly was I going to do about it?