Determined.
That's the only thing that could be said about young billionaire Emily Thorne. The seemingly innocent blond was a thing of beauty, a newcomer to the Hamptons and already stepping into its social circle. But that was not why she was here. She was here for revenge.
Every night she would open the box under her floor and study its contents very rigorously. There were numerous letters, photographs, recordings and books inside that helped her in her mission. In the bottom compartment of the so-called Infinity Box, she kept numerous photographs of people she had spent years preparing to re-encounter. She sat contemplating who to take down next every night, and each takedown took special planning – sometimes, she leaned on her friend Nolan Ross for advice and assistance, while other times she chose to take them on herself.
Emotion and excitement always stirred within her when she listed a target as being taken down. After returning home from taking down a now 63 year old woman, formerly a secretary at Grayson Global, Emily had made no haste in tearing open the floorboards, unlocking her box and then driving two lines in red Sharpie over the photograph's face.
This adventure of revenge had seen Emily take down numerous people, such as a socialite, successful Wall Street hedge fund manager, politician, corrupt therapist, the head of security for Grayson Global, a con artist, a famous author, a stripper, and now, Conrad and Victoria Grayson themselves.
Emily had already sent Grayson Global crashing down in a similar fashion to her destruction of AllCom, which pushed Edward Grayson to kill his son and thus wind up in jail.
When she thought of it, she was never envious of the rich. Her own status as one of the richest women in the United States meant nothing to her. She was prepared to throw all of that away after destroying Victoria and exposing to the world the truth about David Clarke.
There was another thing she wondered: why he had always refused to possibly free himself. She would've gone to great lengths to launch an appeal and/or break him out of prison. It frustrated her that in his writing, he was preaching forgiveness to her, rather than revenge, or at least a revelation of the truth. He knew he hadn't destroyed Flight 197. Yet, he ground down every chance he had at freeing himself, and he forgave everyone who sent him to death row.
Emily did not allow her father to encourage her to forgive them as well. She was committing revenge whether he liked it or not. And she had.
One morning, she took the time to sit perched on her rooftop to observe Grayson Manor. Up there, it felt like she was in her own little realm, one that no one could conquer. She laughed at how she and Victoria often stared up at one another, Emily from her porch, Victoria from her balcony.
Right now, she was working up the nerve to do two things: say goodbye to Nolan, and prepare to wage war on Victoria Grayson. Her red Sharpie in a death grip, she felt as though it would explode, with the ink squishing together and then gushing all over her fingers, and onto her lap. She smirked at the thought of that, visualizing the red ink to be Victoria's blood.
Emily was going to kill Victoria.
She drove the red Sharpie in two lines through Victoria's face as thick as possible, shut the box, and quickly penned a message on a business card. She then stood up, smoothing her thumb over the black double infinity tattoo on her wrist that was symbolic of her precious father.
"I love you, Daddy." She whispered.
The next morning, Emily prepared herself. She took care of two things at once; preparing the Infinity Box for shipping to Nolan's apartment in New Zealand, and assembling plastic explosives. She penned another note on a piece of paper that rolled up into a scroll-like fashion, stuffed it into the Infinity Box, and then sealed it up inside the shipping package. Taking a deep breath, she decided to set the explosives aside for now, placing them in the floorboards.
Dressing casually, she drove off for Nolan's house, tucking the business card note into her shirt pocket.
"Ah, if it isn't the Queen of Vengeance herself... so Ems, what brings you to Casa de Ross?"
She took him completely by surprise when she reached for his hands. He guided her inside; as she slipped her pumps off her soft feet (which Nolan could not resist staring at), Emily turned around and buried her head in Nolan's chest. He was even more surprised by the sudden motion. Emily Thorne was normally not one to overstep her boundaries.
"Ems?" he asked quite dumbfounded. The smaller blond girl moved her arms so that one hand was threading his hair, and another was on his back.
"I'm ending this." She whispered flatly.
"Ending what? Your revenge?" She didn't reply.
"Ems…" She silenced him by standing up and giving him a kiss.
Her body swayed into his and guided him to the bed. Okay… Nolan thought. Has she lost her mind completely? She lay down on the bed and pulled Nolan on top of her. With another lingering lip lock, she spread her legs apart.
"I'm all yours." She said. Emily Thorne, revenge-crazed billionaire, giving herself up for such a geek like me? Nolan thought. When she reached inside his soft shirt and rubbed circles around his nipples, he gave in.
"Oh, Ems…" he grunted. She then slowly moved her thumbs over his sides, and then up to his chest. "Now, stop that!" he laughed.
Emily laughed a half-hearted chuckle, and watched as he pulled his shirt off and then jumped over top of her. She ignored the resemblance to the first few seconds of his sex tape with Tyler and unbuttoned her own shirt, diving under the covers to wait for him.
"Come back here, Ems!" he said with a chuckle, diving into the sheets after her. She took that time to slip her business card note into his pants pocket as he laid his flat and toned stomach on hers. He slipped his hand behind her back to undo her bra as they resumed their kiss.
Nolan kicked his loafers off behind him and then got to work undoing his belt. Emily had also been working on her pants, and she allowed Nolan to pull down her underwear and thus enter her.
She gritted her teeth as he pushed her sweetest spots, holding onto him tightly. Nolan broke the kiss briefly, to ask her a question.
"Ems, why are you doing this? I mean, it's great and all, but –" She shut him up by crushing her mouth to his neck. He let out a sound.
The engagement lasted for several minutes before the pair fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion. When Nolan awoke the next morning, Emily was gone.
She was back at her summer home, whispering her love to Nolan over and over as she strapped the plastic explosives to her ankles. A part of her wanted to kill Victoria another way, or not at all, but those parts of her were what she liked to call her weaknesses. She walked to the doorway and gave herself a count of 20 seconds to either turn back or take the plunge.
She took the plunge. She stepped out and walked to Grayson Manor's front doors.
Emily had chosen to wear a white frilly dress and silver pumps. Her hair was in messy waves. She was planning to reveal herself to Victoria before killing her, by wearing an outfit similar to what she wore when she caught Victoria being brought to the bedroom by David, as a child.
Emily clenched her fist as she rang the doorbell. Victoria of course answered the door.
"Emily, how nice to see you."
Emily simply cocked her head. "Blood will always be thicker than water, Victoria. Just like you said."
She walked past Victoria into the house and turned around. "Who do I look like to you, Victoria?"
Victoria blinked several times. "Well, you look like a beautiful hei-"
"Victoria, I have had enough of your lies. Who do I really look like? Who was that little girl that hid behind a counter as she witnessed you being lead into David Clarke's bedroom back when my cottage belonged to him? Who was she?"
Victoria stammered. "That's not possible! How could you know that?"
Emily glared at her.
"O-Oh my god…"
"I'm Amanda Clarke." I growled. "Remember me? Yes, you were to become my stepmother. Now, I am glad that this didn't come to fruition. You are so disgusting that I refuse to associate with you."
"Emily…"
"Amanda."
"A-Amanda… it's not what you think!"
Emily took a step at Victoria, who flinched. "Yes it is! It's exactly what I think it is! You framed my father for the attack on that plane. You did that!" She pointed fingers at her arch-nemesis.
Her hand moved toward a phone. "Calling the police, I see? Not liking the idea of repenting your crimes?"
Emily struck a match, and lit the plastic explosives on her ankles. It was then that Victoria noticed them. She bolted for the door, but was quickly struck on the head by a vase Emily threw at her.
"I love you, Daddy." Emily whispered. "And I love you too, Nolan."
She closed her eyes just as Grayson Manor was destroyed in the explosion.
…
Nolan awoke to find that although the smell of Emily's perfume still lingered on his bed sheets, the heiress herself was nowhere to be found. Her clothes had all been picked up, and his were neatly folded up. From his shirt pocket, he could see a note sticking out.
The blond billionaire, shameless in his nudity, slipped out of bed and kneeled on the floor to read her handwriting on the back of a business card.
Go to your apartment in New Zealand immediately. Do not watch the news.
-E.T.
Nolan briefly chuckled at the fact that her initials were the same as Spielberg's famous alien, but then got dressed quickly. He knew very well that when Emily wanted something, she got it without any interference from another person.
When Nolan arrived in New Zealand, he proceeded up to his apartment and found a box sitting outside the door. Bringing it inside, he opened it to find the Infinity Box. He opened the box up to find that Emily had added to it a photo of the two of them.
Lifting the box out of the shipping box, Nolan found a note. He read it quickly as he flicked on the TV, muttering to himself how slow they were.
Dear Nolan,
We did it. I bless you for your help with me in my revenge and only hope that our friendship could have grown into something more. The encounter we both had was short, but sweet, and meant more to me than my hot nights in bed with Daniel (it was also likely better than your nights with Tyler).
When you read this, assuming you found my note and did what I asked, I will be gone. I've gone to join my father, but not before completion of my master plan. Lydia Davis, Bill Harmon, Tom Kingsly, Michelle Banks, Frank Stevens, Mason Treadwell, Amanda Clarke, Tyler Barrol, Carol Miller, Edward Grayson, Conrad Grayson and Victoria Grayson were all destroyed thanks to your help. We had a few bumps along the way, but it ultimately worked out and I now have justice for my father.
I took Victoria down with me. Hopefully she will rot in hell rather than try to make amends with my father. He deserves the truth.
You can turn the news on now.
I love you.
-Amanda
By the time he stopped reading, Nolan's eyes were producing a gentle rain. Nolan turned the news on, watching a reporter with a really bad NZ accent bringing up a suicide bomb attack on Grayson Manor, the home of one of the richest women in the world.
After the report was over, Nolan's gentle rain of tears was now a downpour. He pictured his thundering sobs striking down further upon the charred remains of Grayson Manor, leaving nothing but open land where a powerful mansion once stood. He then visualized leaving red roses on one grave there, and black roses and squashed chocolates for another. The grave with the red roses would be Emily's, while Victoria's was the other.
Nolan turned around, seeing the ghost of a little girl he assumed to be Amanda, interlacing her fingers with a taller man. C-Could it be? Nolan thought.
David Clarke grinned and waved at Nolan, before disappearing through the window.
After that encounter, Nolan found solace in the fact that while his one true love was now dead, she was happily reunited with her father. Home at last.