Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 311

Emma smiled, her tone light but unmistakably firm. “Ms. Collins, I think you’re forgetting something. I’m still Theodore’s legal wife. Our joint bank statements really aren’t any of your business, are they?”

“You two are getting divorced, aren’t you?” Cecilia snapped, her face flushed with indignation.

Emma shrugged, nonchalant. “Oh, then I’ll just withdraw the divorce petition. Honestly, divorced or not, it doesn’t really make much difference.”

“You—!” Cecilia was practically shaking with anger. “You’re only after Theo’s money, aren’t you? Are you really going to stand there and say you didn’t use his money to buy all these things?”

Emma sighed and shook her head, as if scolding a stubborn child. “Why is your memory so terrible? I’m his wife—of course I spend his money. You’ve forgotten the basics: what’s his is mine. That’s what joint marital property means. Maybe I’ll have to remind you of that a few more times before it sinks in.”

“I… I didn’t! I haven’t spent a penny of Theo’s money!” Cecilia insisted fiercely, determined to stick to her story no matter what.

Emma didn’t bother arguing. She just nodded. “That’s fine. When Theodore gets here, we’ll just take a look at the statements.”

“Do whatever you want!” Cecilia spat, then turned to call for her friend. “Nita! Nita, let’s get out of here. I’m not wasting any more time in this place.”

But Nita wasn’t so eager to leave. She replied calmly, “I still need to try on my custom dress. If you’re in a hurry, you can go ahead.”

“I—” Cecilia was livid. Was this boutique cursed to torment her? She must’ve been crazy to get so hung up on this place. Why bother when she could just buy designer labels elsewhere?

With a final huff, she stormed out of the studio in a fit of rage.

Emma, meanwhile, followed her assistant to try on a deeper burgundy gown.

When she emerged from the fitting room, Nita was admiring her own sea-blue custom dress in the mirror. She turned, beaming at Emma. “Wow, you look fantastic! That bold color suits you perfectly.”

Emma’s eyes lit up at Nita’s dress as well. “Yours is gorgeous too—like you’re wearing the ocean itself.”

For once, Emma and Nita exchanged a few warm words, genuinely complimenting each other.

As Nita gathered her things to leave, she hesitated at the door and turned to Emma. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d be here. Jared asked me to bring her, so I did.”

Emma just shook her head and smiled. “No need to apologize. It’s not your fault.”

“I…” For a moment, a shadow of sadness flickered in Nita’s eyes, but she quickly replaced it with a smile. “Will you be at the gala tomorrow night?”

“I will,” Emma nodded, though not as Mrs. Whitman—she’d be attending as Mr. Rossi’s sister.

“See you tomorrow, then.” Nita smiled, but there was a trace of melancholy as she left.

Larson chuckled. “He doesn’t know clothes, but he knows jewelry—just buys the most expensive, can’t go wrong. A dress like this deserves only the finest.”

She knew he was trying to comfort her, and her heart felt both heavy and warm. She lowered her head. “Big brother…”

Larson smiled at her in the mirror, gathering up her long hair. “You know, I’m surprised by you tonight. I always thought our Emmie was a little lamb, but turns out she’s got the claws of a leopard.” With her hair up, her features looked even more striking.

He was right—the gown was made for an updo. But seriously, brother, I’m almost thirty. Still calling me a little lamb or a baby leopard…I’m not a child anymore.

“I… I made a bit of a spectacle of myself,” Emma murmured, her eyes stinging—not because of Theodore or Cecilia, but because she remembered what Larson had always told her: In front of your big brother, you’ll always be a child.

“Absolutely!” Ellis suddenly bounded over, her tone as blunt as ever.

Emma’s heart sank—Ellis was never one to sugarcoat.

“That woman just now was a riot! Who does she think she is? Emma, your brother was about to lose it. If I hadn’t held him back, he would’ve dealt with her himself—didn’t I say you could handle it? He never believes me…”

Emma blinked. Wait—a spectacle? She thought Ellis meant her, but did she actually mean Cecilia?

“You?” Ellis looked shocked. “Why would I laugh at you? Don’t get me in trouble—if I dared laugh at you, your brother would break my bones! I’d like to live to a ripe old age, thank you very much!”