Chapter 383 The Secret Identity
"Marriage? What on earth could possibly require marriage to get done?"
Emma let out a long, weary sigh. "The old man in my family is on his last legs. Before he goes, he wants to make my life miserable and, conveniently, push the Kate family one step higher on the social ladder.
"In their eyes, marriage is currency. Right now, whoever brings home the most valuable alliance gets the inheritance."
Philip's lip curled. "All that drama for a bit of inheritance?"
"Yeah," Emma said dryly, "about four billion dollars."
Philip blinked. "The Kate family doesn't have that kind of cash. That's basically the value of the entire empire."
"Exactly," Emma shrugged. "Whoever brings home the better bargaining chip gets everything."
Her jaw tightened. She threw a punch into the empty air in front of her.
"If there were another way, I'd drop a bomb on the Kate estate and see how they plan to marry anyone then. God, it makes me sick."
Catherine's voice was calm. "Your mother won't leave with you."
Once they were in the car, Emma slumped in her seat, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah. My mother's stubborn to the bone."
Catherine knew the Kate family's setup well enough. All assets were in the hands of the older generation. The trusts, the inheritance—every cent was controlled by them. If you wanted a share, you had to be the obedient child for life.
The current patriarch liked to let the younger generation tear each other apart. Only the last one standing was worthy of inheriting it all.
"My grandfather's sharp as a blade," Emma said with a humorless laugh. "He's already named me as heir. But if I can't produce a suitable husband, he'll hand it all to someone else.
"Best case? Pop out a child. That's not happening anytime soon, so I figured I'd just snag a man and marry him."
It was nothing more than securing an ally for the Kate family—and locking Emma into a lifetime of servitude.
Philip's mouth twitched. "Ms. Kate… please tell me the man you plan to trick isn't me."
"Bingo," she said sweetly. "Mr. Windsor, you're so clever. Are you volunteering to give me a child?"
Philip nearly choked on his own spit.
Back in school, Emma had been a legend. Philip had never met a woman with more audacity. Whether it was debate club or mock trials, she would do anything to win. Friends, family—irrelevant. There was only victory.
Even in a marathon, she had to cross the finish line first, then stand on the podium and flip off the crowd. "I'm the best! You men are all trash!"
It was no wonder she'd been a walking scandal. Every time Philip heard about her antics, it left him speechless. She was pure chaos. Getting tangled up with her now? He'd rather die.
Catherine saw through it—Emma wanted Philip because he was a Windsor. A marriage like that would tick every box for the Kate family. But Catherine wasn't about to let Philip be forced into anything.
"Stay at my place for a few days," Catherine said. "We'll think of something else. If marriage is non-negotiable, I can't help you. But the Windsors have plenty of other relatives. If you're willing, I can set you up with someone."
Emma's eyes lit up. "For now, a little gossip will do. As long as I'm living at the Windsor Villa and people start talking, that's enough."
The Windsor Mansion.
Aurora's eyes crinkled with delight as she looked at Gabriella sitting at the dining table. The moment she heard Charles was with his girlfriend, she'd insisted he bring her home. On the surface, Aurora was calm; in truth, nothing worried her more than Charles's marital prospects.
Gabriella felt awkward, unsure how she'd even ended up here.
Charles glanced at the still-open restaurant nearby and said without missing a beat, "Restaurant's closed. Let's eat somewhere else."
She frowned—closed? At this hour? But before she could question it, he was leading her straight into the Windsor Villa.
"Mom, I haven't eaten yet," Charles said.
"I don't care about you," Aurora replied breezily. "Gabriella, have you eaten? Want me to fix you something?"
Gabriella started to say she had, but glancing at Charles, who hadn't eaten all day, she changed her mind. "Yes, please. Thank you, Mrs. Windsor."
The food had barely hit the table when a voice called from the doorway.
"Mrs. Windsor, I'm eating too!"
"Of course, of course—there's plenty," Aurora said.
Charles's gaze slid past her to the figure following behind. His brow arched. "Looks like Ms. Kate picked you, Philip?"
Emma shook her head, looping an arm around Catherine's waist like a spoiled cat. "No, no. I picked Ms. Catherine Windsor. If I'd known she was here, I wouldn't have wasted my time with you men."
Catherine gave her a flat look. "Didn't you say you had to get married to get the inheritance?"
The implication was clear—Catherine couldn't help her in that way.
Emma ignored it, twirling a fork into her pasta and taking a huge bite. "Whatever. One step at a time. For all I know, my grandfather might die before I find someone. And if I can't marry, I can at least ruin everyone else's chances."
Philip winced. "That's evil."
"Evil is better than broke," she shot back.
She pushed up her sleeve to reach for more pasta, then froze, remembering the tattoo sprawled across her arm—something the older generation might not appreciate. She tugged her sleeve back down with an awkward smile.
Aurora didn't miss a beat. "Don't worry. Tattoos are great. If something ever happens to you, your mother will recognize the body immediately."
Emma stared at her, speechless. "Thanks… I guess."
Philip's gaze shifted to Gabriella, seated beside Charles. "Gabriella, what are you doing here with him?"
Emma caught Gabriella's glance and spoke up quickly. "Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not interested in anyone else's man."
Gabriella shook her head. "No, I didn't mean that… I was going to say your tattoo is beautiful."
Emma's face lit up. Finally, someone with taste. She shrugged off her jacket, revealing the full piece—a female warrior, sword and spear in hand, striking down demons in a vivid ukiyo-e style.
"Nice, right? Ms. Windsor inked it herself."
Philip's eyes widened. "You're saying Catherine gave you that tattoo?"
He remembered Quinn—famous for her ukiyo-e work. Slowly, he asked, "Catherine… do you know Quinn?"
Emma frowned at him. "How could she not? Ms. Windsor is…"
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