When Blood Turns Cold

"Surprise!" Amy grinned mischievously as she walked over, taking Emmy's handbag from her and tossing it on the couch before pulling her into a tight hug.

Emmy let out a small laugh, feeling a warmth spread through her. Amy pulled back slightly and studied her face. "I knew you'd be exhausted after a day of chatting with those annoying parents," she said, her voice soft but playful. "So, I decided to make your favorite dish for you."

Emmy's tired smile deepened. "That's very thoughtful of you," she said, touched by the gesture.

Amy waved it off, her eyes sparkling with her usual energy. "You know I've always been like that," she joked, rolling her eyes dramatically.

Emmy chuckled. "Now quit it and tell me all about your day. Especially the mothers bragging about their wealth," Amy added, her eyes wide with excitement, clearly ready to gossip.

"Amy and her big nose, always stuck in people's business," Emmy teased, exaggerating a sigh as she made her way toward the room. "Actually, I've got more important business to discuss with you—and I might need your help," she said, pausing to look at her with suddenly serious eyes.

Amy raised an eyebrow, her playful grin fading slightly as she nodded. "What's going on?" she asked, sensing the shift in Emmy's tone.

Emmy paused for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Why don't we discuss it over dinner? I need to change out of these clothes," she suggested, a weary but grateful smile crossing her face.

Amy grinned, already making her way to the kitchen. "Of course, take your time. I'll get everything ready," she said with a wink, clearly eager to hear what was on Emmy's mind.

Emmy headed to her room, her thoughts still swirling around the questions she needed answers to. She could feel the weight of the conversation ahead, but for now, dinner would provide a moment of respite.

…

Luke paced restlessly around his bedroom, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. He couldn't help but worry about what would happen if Emerald dug into his past. The journey that had shaped him into who he was now was long, grueling, and filled with choices he wished he could forget.

People admired him, saw him as an idol, worshipped him almost—but they had no idea what it had cost him. He had access to everything now, wealth, power, and influence, but none of it came without a price. The path to where he was today hadn't been made from hard work or starting from scratch—it was paved by opportunism, taking advantage of what was already in motion. He hadn't built his empire; he had jumped onto a boat that had already sailed, and now, the fear of losing it all because of his past haunted him more than anything else.

Luke's mind raced, the weight of his thoughts growing heavier. He couldn't shake the idea that he needed to rid himself of the one person who still held the key to his past—the old woman who knew too much. But a deep, unsettling hesitation gripped him. He couldn't bring himself to end another life, not after everything he had already done.

It wasn't like Emerald was in a position of power to reach that woman, but the risk of her finding a way to do so was too great. He froze in place, a sudden thought cutting through the fog of his mind. Who would believe her if she spoke? She was old and frail, and anyone who heard her would probably dismiss her as a delusional psychopath.

A cold smile crept onto his face as the plan began to form. Maybe he didn't need to eliminate her after all. He could send his men to watch her, keep her silent, and ensure she never spoke to anyone about him. It was the perfect solution—clean, and efficient. He sat back on the bed, feeling relief washing over him as he reassured himself that this was the right course of action.

Emmy closed her eyes, savoring the rich flavors of the meal, a soft hum of contentment escaping her lips. "Mmm, I think I need to hire you as my chef, Amy," she said, her voice still dreamy as she took another bite.

Amy giggled, shaking her head. "Don't be silly, Em," she teased, giving Emmy a playful nudge on the arm, causing Emmy to open her eyes with a mock look of annoyance.

"Now, tell me what you wanted to talk about," Amy asked, her curiosity piqued.

Emmy's face fell into a frown, a dramatic pout forming. "Oh, come on, you're ruining the mood," she grumbled, sending Amy a playful, disgusted look. "Let me enjoy my dinner in peace first!"

Amy raised an eyebrow, her grin still wide. "You know you can't get out of it that easily."

Emmy sighed deeply, setting her fork down gently on the plate as her expression turned serious. "It's about my 'dad,'" she began, her voice heavy with a weight that had been building for some time. "I need to figure out what happened and why I'm like an orphan now, despite having parents."

"Oh, I see," Amy responded, her face turning thoughtful as she pressed her lips together, considering the gravity of the situation. "So you need my help to look into his background?" she asked, focusing her eyes.

"Yeah," Emmy said, her tone steady but tinged with a hint of desperation. "I need you to help me find a private investigator—someone trustworthy—who can dig into this and help me figure out what's going on."

Amy paused for a moment, her gaze drifting off as she thought deeply. Then, suddenly, she slammed her hand on the table, making Emmy jump in surprise. "I think I might know someone," Amy said, her voice filled with a sense of accomplishment. Her eyes gleamed with a proud, distant look as if she were already picturing the solution unfolding in her mind.

Emmy blinked, caught off guard by the sudden burst of energy. "Wait, really?" she asked, leaning forward in interest. "Who?"

Amy smirked, clearly enjoying the suspense. "I've got a contact who could help. He's discreet and trustworthy—well, as trustworthy as they come in this line of work," she said, her voice laced with confidence. "I'll reach out to him."