Chapter 45
Emily Windsor's POV
Luke picked up his phone and dialed a number, his voice devoid of any emotion. "Continue. I don't want to see Lowe Group on the financial news tomorrow morning."
My heart lurched.
"Luke..." I started instinctively, my voice dry.
He was retaliating for me, but Mr. Lowe's words echoed in my ears like a curse.
'When the fish dies, the net may not break—but blood will splatter everywhere.'
Luke hung up and turned to me, the frost in his eyes thawing slightly.
He pulled me into his arms, his palm rubbing soothing circles on my back.
"Don't be afraid," he murmured. "I'm here."
But how could I not be afraid?
I wasn't scared for myself. I was terrified that to protect me, he'd have to expose himself to dangers he couldn't control.
Just then, someone knocked on the office door. A silver-haired man with sharp, alert eyes walked in.
He wore a tailored suit, carried himself with quiet authority, and when he saw Luke, his expression held the affection and exasperation of an elder.
"Luke." He sighed.
"Uncle Ken." Luke's expression didn't change. He merely nodded slightly.
Ken's gaze landed on me, offering a gentle nod before turning back to Luke, his tone more serious. "The old man from the Lowe Family just called me. I know you can't swallow this insult, but his warning wasn't an empty threat."
"A family that can't control its own dogs has no right to exist." Luke's voice was ice-cold.
"That's true in principle." Ken stepped closer, his voice grave. "We can take the time to uproot the Lowe Family entirely and clean out every one of those so-called mad dogs. But during that process—what happens to Miss Windsor?"
"We can have people watching her twenty-four seven, but she's a lawyer. She has her own career and life, her own friends. If they want to come after her, they have a thousand ways. They can fabricate charges, bribe a few witnesses, and destroy her reputation or land her in prison." Ken's gaze sharpened. "We're not afraid of enemies who fight head-on. But dirty tricks from the gutter? Those are impossible to guard against. Luke, you can't protect her by turning her into a real trophy mistress—locked in a gilded cage."
The office fell into a deathly silence.
Every word Ken spoke landed like a hammer blow to my chest.
He was right. Luke could give me the most fortified castle, but I couldn't live in a castle forever.
My battlefield was the courtroom. My value lay in verbal combat and cold legal statutes.
If fear made me abandon all that, how would I be any different from the old Emily—the one who only cared about winning, before Sarah's desperate cries shattered my indifference?
I saw Luke's hand—the one holding mine—veins bulging on the back of it.
He stayed silent for a long time. So long, I almost thought time itself had stopped.
Finally, he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the murderous fury had been forcibly suppressed, leaving only the dead ash of resignation.
He picked up his phone again, his voice hoarse. "Leave them breathing."
After hanging up, he held me tighter, his chin resting on the top of my head. I could clearly feel the violent, barely restrained pounding of his heart.
In that moment, I realized with absolute clarity that this man—who stood at the pinnacle of power—had chosen compromise and retreat for the first time. For me.
This surrender hurt me more than any aggressive protection ever could.
Luke eventually backed off.
The Lowe Family, though severely wounded and toppled from their pedestal among New York's elite, still retained their foundation. They weren't completely destroyed.
The storm that had shaken all of high society ended in an almost anticlimactic way, coming to a temporary halt.
And I became a strange, awkward presence in its aftermath.
Everyone knew Luke's ruthless tactics had been unleashed because of me—and that his final restraint had also been for me.
I had become his only weakness.
This fact only intensified Lily's disdain for me.
A week after the storm subsided, Carl called me into his office.
He treated me with a new kind of cautious respect now—almost reverent.
He personally poured me a cup of coffee, his face wearing a professional smile, though his eyes held a flicker of something complicated.
"Emily, congratulations. The Kingsley case was brilliant. You're the golden name of this firm now." After a few pleasantries, he slid a thick, gold-embossed folder across the desk toward me.
"What's this?"
"A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity." Carl's tone betrayed barely concealed excitement. "A top-tier European venture capital consortium is handling an extremely tricky merger and acquisition case. The deal is worth billions of euros. They've specifically requested you as their lead legal counsel."
I opened the folder. Complex equity structures and cross-border legal clauses from multiple jurisdictions filled the pages. Professional, intricate, full of challenges.
For any ambitious lawyer, this was the kind of résumé-defining case you couldn't refuse.
"Why would they come to me?" I looked up, voicing the doubt gnawing at my mind.
Carl's smile faltered. He adjusted his glasses and lowered his voice. "Emily, you're not just any lawyer anymore. This offer came in fast—too fast. Like someone handed it directly to us. I have to ask—did you piss off someone you shouldn't have?"
A chill ran through me.
"This case looks glamorous, but it would send you to Europe for at least six months. Right now, at this exact moment, getting you out of New York..." He left the sentence hanging, but his eyes said everything.
This wasn't a simple job offer.
"I understand. Thank you, Carl." I closed the folder, already knowing the answer.
Back in my office, I spread the documents out and began digging into the client's background.
On the surface, everything was impeccable. The client was an industry giant with an excellent reputation.
I opened my computer and entered several key German and French names into a search engine.
When I pulled up the profile of one of the main contacts—a highly respected Swiss attorney—my gaze froze.
On his personal website, prominently displayed, was a photo of him with an outstanding graduate.
The girl in the cap and gown, smiling with pride and radiance, was Lily.
The photo had been taken at the University of St. Gallen in Switzerland—where she'd studied abroad.
I followed the thread. Several core members of this deal had intricate ties to that university. Alumni. Guest professors. Members of the board of trustees.
Of course.
I leaned back in my chair, a cold shiver crawling up my spine.
Lily's tactics were far more sophisticated than I'd imagined.
She wanted to "protect" me—to use career advancement and ambition to send me far away from New York. Far away from Luke.
I stared out the window. The New York skyline was painted gold in the fading sunset.
I knew the war between Luke and me was over.
But my war with his sister? That was just beginning.