"Wait…" Leon said, his grip firm but not forceful as he held her arm, stopping her from storming off. His face was serious, a rare moment of vulnerability showing through his usual composed demeanour.
Emma glared at him, her emotions still running high. "What?! What else do I need to know?! What else do I need to celebrate?!" Her voice echoed across the empty deck, bouncing off the calm waters below. The weight of her words hung in the air, the silence that followed deafening.
Leon hesitated, his expression softening. His gaze dropped to the deck for a moment before he met her fiery eyes again. "I'm sorry," he murmured, the weight of regret heavy in his voice. "I didn't think it through."
Emma's patience snapped, her fury blazing. "If you're sorry, then get the hell out of my face!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the tension like a whip. "And while you're at it, tell Allan Whitmore he can't just use me for whatever the hell he's planning!"
Her chest heaved with anger, and she shook off Leon's hand, storming away without another glance.
As she stepped off the yacht, the two men in suits were waiting by the car, their expressions calm but unreadable. Emma's eyes darted around, searching for an escape. Spotting no other way out except for the water, she muttered, "Damn it…" under her breath. The idea of jumping into the icy depths didn't seem like a great alternative.
With no choice, she turned back toward the yacht, her frustration mounting as she made her way to the last place she wanted to return to.
"Ah…" Emma raised her hand, cutting him off before Leon could utter a word. "I know what you're going to say, but nope, I'm not changing my mind. I came back because you owe me. So, help me escape from those men in black," she said, gesturing subtly toward the two suited men stationed by the car.
Leon blinked, caught off guard. "Do I owe you something?" The words slipped out before he could think. His brow furrowed as he muttered to himself, 'Ah, my character is messing with me again.' He quickly tried to piece together a response, his mind scrambling to maintain composure.
Emma crossed her arms, her glare sharp. "Yes, you owe me—big time. First, you threw this ridiculous engagement party. Now, you're going to help me ditch them. Deal?"
"No deal!" Leon blurted out, his frustration slipping through before he could catch it. He quickly composed himself, taking a deep breath and forcing an awkward smile. "Then... how about we yacht over to the other side instead?" he offered, his voice a bit strained as he let out a long sigh of relief.
At least this time, he managed to say what he was supposed to.
"Okay, drop me there, and we're done," she said, walking to the seat inside the yacht.
Leon followed, settling into the captain's seat with an air of casual authority. "Done? You make it sound like this is just a taxi service," he muttered, flipping a few switches as the boat hummed to life.
Emma ignored his comment, staring out at the water. "The faster you drop me off, the faster this nightmare ends."
He glanced at her, his tone flat but tinged with amusement. "You're awfully dramatic for someone asking a favour."
"I didn't ask!" she snapped, her eyes narrowing at him. "You volunteered—twice now. And honestly, if you regret it, feel free to stop the boat and let me swim."
Leon smirked, steering the yacht away from the dock. "Relax, princess. You're in good hands."
Emma crossed her arms, glaring at him. "Call me 'princess' again, and I'll shove you overboard."
He laughed softly, the sound warm despite her icy demeanour. "You're feisty tonight. Don't worry—I'll get you where you need to go. After all, what kind of chauffeur would I be if I didn't?"
She groaned, leaning back in the seat, muttering under her breath. "Worst chauffeur ever…"
Leon smiled a little, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. For a moment, he was silent, his gaze fixed ahead. Then, as if something inside him snapped, he spoke, his voice colder now. "You should watch who you're insulting, Miss Whitmore. I don't take kindly to it."
Emma glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, so now you're the big CEO again?" she said, almost laughing, but there was an edge to her voice. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"
Leon didn't respond right away. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, fighting to keep his composure. A faint frown tugged at his lips as he struggled to push past the shift in his demeanour. "I'm not sure what you want from me, Emma. But I'm not here to play games."
Emma rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, irritated. "You don't say."
There was a brief, awkward silence before Leon let out a short, sharp laugh. It wasn't a joke. "Yeah, well… sometimes I wish I could just shut off all these things." His words were softer now, like he was talking to himself more than her, but she caught the hint of frustration in his voice.
"What things?" she asked, confused but intrigued despite herself.
Leon seemed to hesitate, as though caught between saying something he hadn't meant to. "Nothing," he muttered, shaking his head quickly. "Forget it."
Emma eyed him suspiciously. "Right. Sure."
Leon's hands gripped the wheel a little too tightly now, his knuckles turning white. His mind raced, flickering between his own confusion and an unfamiliar, heavier weight settling over him. He muttered something under his breath, something she couldn't catch, but the way his posture stiffened gave her pause.
Without warning, he veered the yacht to a stop in the middle of the water, the boat rocking gently as the engine hummed its final note.
"What the hell…?" Emma turned toward him, her eyes wide with surprise. "What are you doing?"
Leon didn't answer at first. He stared straight ahead, his expression unreadable. Then, in a voice that was chillingly distant, he said, "I... need a moment."