Oliver's knuckles whitened around the steering wheel as he sped toward Shelby's apartment, his mind replaying Emma's defiance like a broken record.
"You don't own me, Oliver."
Her words burned in his chest, hot and bitter. Since when did she grow a spine? Since when did she dare to raise her voice at him? The mousy little wife who used to flinch at his footsteps had somehow found the audacity to look him in the eye and challenge him.
If not for Shelby's urgent message, he would've dragged Emma back into that mansion by her hair and reminded her exactly who she belonged to.
The elevator ride to Shelby's penthouse felt like an eternity, each floor crawling past as Oliver replayed the last twenty-four hours in his head. Emma's cold eyes. Her sharp tongue. The way she'd walked away from hi
