Stella's POV
This revelation suddenly cast everything in a new light. Grace had apparently been leveraging a marriage arrangement that wasn't originally meant for her—one that belonged to Emma's missing sister. If that sister was supposed to be connected to the Lancaster family...
Fuck, could it be...
Sam subtly nodded toward Adam, confirming she was thinking the same thing. Could my marriage to Adam somehow be fate's correction of what was always meant to be? The thought was both unsettling and strangely comforting.
If I'm really the Davis family's lost daughter... then Adam and I were meant to be together all along? This is too coincidental.
Grace's face contorted with rage and humiliation as she looked around the room, seemingly searching for any sympathy. Finding none, her shoulders slumped as the fight visibly drained from her body.
"Emma, please," she whispered, desperation creeping into her voice. "You can't just abandon me like this."
"I'm not abandoning you," Emma replied coldly. "I'm holding you accountable. That's entirely different."
Grace's eyes turned calculating as she realized appeals to Emma weren't working. Slowly, like a drowning person grasping at anything that might float, she turned toward Adam.
"Adam..." she pleaded, moving toward him, tears now freely streaming down her cheeks. Her voice broke in a way that might have seemed genuine if I hadn't witnessed her manipulative capabilities firsthand.
What an actress. This scheming bitch is still desperately trying to use Adam.
I immediately stepped between them, crossing my arms as I faced her. "Miss Davis, I'm standing right here as Mrs. Lancaster. Perhaps you should maintain appropriate distance from married men!"
The mask of vulnerability on Grace's face slipped for a fraction of a second, revealing something darker underneath—something cold and poisonous. The transformation was brief but unmistakable. This was the real Grace Davis, the one who had orchestrated Sam's "accident" without remorse.
She quickly recovered, stepping around me to appeal directly to Adam again. "Adam, please..."
Adam's voice was flat and final. "Grace, I will not be involved in this matter."
Hearing his clear rejection of her pleas, I felt a surge of satisfaction. Well said, darling. Look at her face—how does rejection taste?
Even then, Grace seemed unwilling to accept defeat. Her hand moved to her neck, delicate fingers wrapping around a golden pendant I'd noticed her wearing at various social events. She unclasped it, holding the Davis family emblem in her palm like it was her last playing card.
"Emma," Grace said, desperation making her voice tremble, "when Grandfather died, he made you promise to take care of me!"
Emma's expression hardened further, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Grace Davis, are you attempting to use Grandfather's memory to manipulate me?"
"Emma, I just don't want to be everyone's victim," Grace insisted, holding the golden emblem higher. "Grandfather said this pendant meant I was part of your family! He gave it to me himself!"
The pendant caught the light, gleaming with obvious significance. Something about it triggered a memory—the silver necklace I sometimes wore, given to me by my adoptive mother, Anna Winston. She'd claimed it had been with me when they took me in, one of the few connections to my biological parents. I'd always treasured it as proof that someone had once loved me enough to give me something beautiful.
That necklace... if I really am connected to the Davis family, then... no, that's too crazy, don't overthink this yet.
"If you want my help," Emma interrupted my thoughts, "then that emblem is no longer yours. And neither will be the Davis name. You will cease to be part of our family in any capacity."
Grace's face paled, her fingers instinctively tightening around the pendant. "You can't—" she began, before stopping herself. She looked down at the golden object in her palm, then back at Emma's unyielding expression. "Please, Emma, help me," she finally whispered, extending the pendant in surrender.
Emma took it without comment, slipping it into her pocket before turning toward Sam. "Sam, you're the injured party, so I'll discuss this directly with you. I propose sending Grace to Europe tomorrow. She will never appear in New York again. What do you think?"
"Yes," Sam replied without hesitation.
"Sam!" I exclaimed, shocked by her immediate acceptance of what seemed like an unbelievably lenient punishment. After everything Grace had done, she was essentially being offered an extended European vacation? She should taste what it's like to be bitten by venomous snakes!
Sam placed a hand on my arm, her eyes conveying a clear message: Trust me on this.
Grace collapsed into a nearby chair, her legs seemingly unable to support her any longer. The reality of what had just happened appeared to be sinking in—in a matter of minutes, she had lost her family name, her social standing, and any hope of maintaining the life she'd built in New York.
"Why?" she whispered, more to herself than anyone in the room. "How did everything go so wrong?"
Her gaze settled on me, a mixture of hatred and bewilderment in her eyes. I could practically read her thoughts: everything had changed when I entered the picture. Adam became my husband. The social circles that once revolved around her now welcomed me. The attention and care Adam had once shown her was now directed exclusively toward me.
Serves you right, bitch. You brought everything upon yourself.
Emma stepped forward, helping Grace to her feet with surprising gentleness. "We should go," she said simply.
As they moved toward the door, I noticed an almost imperceptible exchange of glances between Emma and Sam—quick but meaningful, as if confirming some private understanding.
The door closed behind them with a quiet click that somehow felt more final than a slam.
\---
"Sam!" The moment we were alone, I turned to my friend, my tone sharper than intended. "You just let her off completely?"
"Did I?" Sam replied calmly, adjusting her position on the hospital bed to face me directly. "Think about it, Stell. What if she actually died on your island? How uncomfortable would that be! Besides, you know as well as I do that we're different from her—we couldn't actually watch her get bitten by venomous snakes."
I sighed, knowing she was right. Despite my anger, I couldn't have stood by and watched Grace suffer the same fate she'd planned for Sam. That level of cruelty wasn't in me—which was probably a good thing, all things considered.
"Still," I muttered, "I would have liked her to experience at least a fraction of the fear you felt. That bitch didn't even get a slap on the wrist!"
"Trust me," Sam said with unusual seriousness, "for someone like Grace, losing everything—her name, her position, her access to Adam, her place in society—that's a far more effective punishment than any temporary physical pain could ever be."
I studied her face, sensing there was more to her quick agreement with Emma than simple mercy. "There's something else, isn't there? Something you're not telling me."
Sam glanced briefly toward the window, gathering her thoughts. "Stell, getting Grace completely out of your life is more important than any revenge could be. Especially if..." she hesitated.
"If what?"
"Nothing," she said, shaking her head slightly. "Just trust me, Emma's solution is the best possible outcome."
I narrowed my eyes, suspicious of her sudden reticence, but before I could press further, I noticed her gaze repeatedly drifting toward Victor, who stood near the door in quiet conversation with Adam.
Aha, look at that look in her eyes. This silly girl has definitely fallen for him.
"You know what," I said, recognizing her distraction, "we should get going. Adam and I will wait for you in the parking lot. Take your time, no rush."
Sam's expression shifted to momentary panic. "Stella—"
"Don't worry," I winked at her as I gathered my purse. "Just remember he tracked your vitals because he cares about you, not because he's a stalker. Well, not entirely a stalker."
Anyway, I can already tell the atmosphere between these two is completely different now.
I gestured for Adam to follow me, giving Sam the privacy she clearly needed—whether she was willing to admit it or not.