The Ice Begins to Crack

Days passed in uneasy silence.

Emma refused to let George intimidate her, but his presence was impossible to ignore. He was always there—working in his study, making calls, reading by the fireplace.

One evening, she finally snapped.

"If we're going to live in the same house, you could at least acknowledge I exist!"

He looked up from his laptop, amused. "Why? You wanted this to be a business deal."

Her frustration boiled over. She grabbed the nearest glass of water and threw it at him.

The glass shattered at his feet.

For the first time, he looked at her differently —like she wasn't just some contract bride, but someone who could challenge him.

Slowly, he smirked.

"Now we're getting interesting."