Chapter One Hundred And Fifteen

Chapter 115

The morning sun spilled across the Valerian estate, casting warm hues over the sprawling grounds. Jemima stood on the balcony of her room, the cool breeze brushing against her skin as she gazed out at the landscape. The weight she had carried for months felt lighter now, like a fog lifting after a storm. She sipped her coffee slowly, savoring the quiet.

Her phone buzzed on the small table beside her, breaking the silence. It was Marcus.

“Can you survive without me?” She said into the receiver as soon as she picked up the phone, not waiting for Marcus to say anything

“Well, you’re my twin so you’ve had to need me even before we were born,” Marcus teased, emitting a low rumble of chuckle from Jemima.

“What’s the deal, Marcus? I just woke up! Can’t a girl just have her morning?” Jemima rhetorically asked as she pushed herself across the bed, stretching her body across all sides.

“No chance in hell miss Co-CEO! Ready for another day of rebuilding the empire?” his voice came through, teasing but filled with genuine excitement.

Jemima smirked. “You mean dragging your sorry ass through another day of work? Ecstatic!” Jemima’s sarcasm dripped through every word and even though she could not see him, she knew he rolled his eyes.

Marcus laughed. “Fair enough. Meet me in the conference room in an hour. We’ve got a lot to cover. I mean with the whole Jon incident, we’ve practically forgotten about JEMMARC.”

“Aye Aye Captain,” Jemima teased as she hung up, placing the phone back on the table. The prospect of focusing on JEMMARC again filled her with purpose. For too long, she had let distractions pull her away from the agency they had built together, the one thing that truly felt like theirs.

Jemima showered and dressed quickly, choosing a sharp black blazer and tailored pants. As she adjusted her cuffs, she caught her reflection in the mirror. There was a newfound determination in her eyes, a clarity she hadn’t seen in years.

She headed downstairs, the heels of her boots clicking against the polished marble floors. She had half expected to see Vanessa in the kitchen or Alan lurking around but the only person she saw was Dimitri who was halfway out of the house, dragging his suitcase along.

“Dimitri? Where are you going and where is Alan?” Jemima queried, her brows knitting in confusion as she stared at him.

“Alan left last night, he didn’t say where but he said nothing is holding him back here anymore,” Dimitri answered as a servant rushed from inside to help him with his suitcase.

The thought of no longer seeing Alan again sent a jolt of sadness through Jemima’s face but she masked it up just as quickly as it had appeared.

“And you are off to where?” Jemima asked, walking closer to him. She and Dimitri had never been quite close. There was mutual respect between them but that was only because he was her best friend’s fiancé and Jay’s cousin. They’ve never actually sat down to have a heart-to-heart or converse properly.

Dimitri sighed heavily, “I think we both know that it’s time for me to leave Jem. There’s no place for me here anymore.”

“So where would you go though? It’s not like we’re chasing you out of here. You’re always welcome to stay with us for as long as you wish,” Jemima insisted, trying to see if she could change his mind so he wouldn’t go.

“We’ve never been close or established that bond on a personal level Jemima and we can both agree that after what Vanessa did, it’d be best if I just return to Rome, my home.”

Jemima nodded in understanding, “Well does Jay know?”

“Yes.”

Unusually, Jemima embraced Dimitri as flashes of the times he had been there for her played through her memories. From when he recommended a doctor for her during her alter ego dilemma to when he helped her take down Jon.

Dimitri hesitated because it was very unlike Jemima to hug someone— she hated hugs. But sooner than expected, he quickly gave in and returned the embrace.

Jemima’s phone buzzed, breaking the awkward moment between them. She quickly glanced at her phone and saw that it was Marcus, her cue to hurry up.

“Best wishes Dimitri. This is not a goodbye but rather, a see you later,” she bid him farewell, not waiting for him to respond before zooming out of the house.

She breathed heavily as she sat in her car, taking everything that had just happened before finally revving up the engine and driving off, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake.

By the time Jemima arrived at the agency, the conference room was already buzzing with energy. Marcus was at the head of the table, gesturing animatedly as he discussed strategies with Ava, who had joined them to offer her insights.

“Ah, the queen herself finally graces us with her presence,” Marcus said, grinning as Jemima walked in.

“Don’t get too comfortable in that chair, Marcus,” she quipped, taking a seat beside him. “I’m still the brains of this operation.”

Ava chuckled, sliding a stack of papers toward Jemima. “We’ve been brainstorming ways to reintroduce JEMMARC to the world. With everything that’s happened, we need to make a strong statement.”

Jemima scanned the documents, her mind already racing with ideas. “We don’t just need a statement. We need a rebrand. A complete shift in how people perceive us.”

Marcus leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I like where this is going. What do you have in mind?”

“JEMMARC has always been about power and strategy,” Jemima began. “But we’ve also been a symbol of resilience. That’s what we need to highlight—our ability to adapt and overcome. Let’s make it personal. Show the world who we are, not just what we do by specifically focusing on people who have been sexually or physically abused. Serve as a voice to the voiceless.”

The room fell silent as her words sank in. Marcus nodded slowly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Damn, Jem. You’re back, aren’t you?”

“I never left,” she said, a glint of determination in her eyes.

The meeting continued for hours, the three of them bouncing ideas off each other and mapping out a strategy. By the time they wrapped up, the table was covered in notes, sketches, and empty coffee cups.

Later that afternoon, Jemima found herself walking through the estate’s gardens, needing a moment to clear her head. The scent of roses and freshly cut grass filled the air, and the sound of birds chirping provided a soothing backdrop.

Her thoughts wandered to Jay. He had been her anchor through everything, and she felt a pang of guilt for how much she had leaned on him. He deserved more than half-measures, more than a love weighed down by the shadows of her past.

Her phone buzzed again, this time with a text from Jay.

Jay: Dinner tonight? My treat.

Jemima smiled, typing out a quick response.

Jemima: You read my mind. Pick me up at 7.

By the time evening rolled around, Jemima was ready for a night away from work. She wore a sleek navy dress that hugged her figure, paired with simple silver jewelry— not her usual style. When Jay arrived, he greeted her with a warm smile, his dark eyes sparkling.

“You look stunning,” he said, offering her his arm.

“And you look like you tried,” she teased, noting his crisp button-up shirt and neatly styled hair.

They drove to a quiet restaurant on the edge of the city, a cozy spot Jay had discovered recently. The dim lighting and soft music created an intimate atmosphere, and Jemima felt herself relax as they settled into their booth.

Over dinner, they talked about everything and nothing—memories from their childhood, plans for the future, and even silly topics that had them laughing until their sides hurt.

At one point, Jay reached across the table, taking her hand in his. “I’m proud of you, Jem. For letting go of the past and focusing on what matters.”

She squeezed his hand, her eyes meeting his. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Jay. You’ve been my rock through all of this.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, they simply sat there, holding each other’s gaze. It was a quiet acknowledgment of everything they had been through and everything they had yet to face—together.

The next morning, Jemima and Marcus met with a few key members of their old team to discuss the next steps for JEMMARC. The energy in the room was electric as they laid out their vision for the agency’s future.

“We’re not just rebuilding,” Marcus said, his voice filled with conviction. “We’re redefining what it means to be JEMMARC.”

The team responded with enthusiasm, throwing out ideas and volunteering to take on various tasks. Jemima felt a surge of pride as she watched them work. This was what they had built—something worth fighting for.

After the meeting, Jemima stayed behind to go over some details with Marcus. As they wrapped up, he turned to her with a serious expression.

“You know this isn’t going to be easy, right?” he said. “There are still people out there who want to see us fail.”

Jemima nodded, her resolve unwavering. “Let them try. We’ve faced worse, and we’re still standing.”

Marcus grinned, clapping her on the shoulder. “That’s my sister.”

That evening, Jemima found herself back on Jay’s balcony, the city lights stretching out before her. Jay joined her, handing her a glass of wine.

“To new beginnings,” he said, raising his glass.

“To us,” she replied, clinking her glass against his.

“Oh, my Jemima. My true love, Mia Cara! How I love you so so much! Jay whispered, drawing her close and sniffing her scent.

“You’ve been so good to me Jay. I haven’t said a proper thank you,” Jemima whispered huskily, prompting Jay to smile as a glint appeared in the corner of his eyes.

Jemima dropped her champagne flute on the side table and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I love you more than you can ever know Jay Black,” Jemima breathed softly against his face as she closed the gap between them by planting a soft and gentle kiss on Jay's lips.
Her eyes fluttered close as she began to intensify the kiss, causing Jay to lift her so that her legs were draped around his hips.

“The night is still young, baby,” Jay said with a smirk as he carried her up the stairs to his room. There, they reveled in the sweet sensation of their bodies moving together, dancing to the call of the moonlit night.