"Who says I don't have a choice?" Emma's voice was sharp, but her trembling betrayed her. Without waiting for a reply, she bolted toward the side of the yacht.
"Emma, stop!" Leon shouted, his voice cutting through the still night.
She was already climbing over the railing when Leon lunged forward. His hand caught her wrist just as her legs slipped over the edge. With one hard pull, he yanked her back onto the deck.
They both stumbled, and Leon tightened his grip on her arm. His voice was cold, yet shaking with anger. "What were you thinking? You could've died."
"Isn't it better than being used by someone just for their own benefit?" She stared sharply at Leon, although her lips trembled from the cold.
Leon's jaw tightened as he held her steady, his grip firm but not harsh. He stared back at her, his eyes colder than the night air.
"And what makes you think running away solves anything?" His voice was low, calculated. "If you want to prove you're not just a pawn, stop acting like one."
Emma froze, her sharp glare faltering for a moment, though her trembling didn't stop.
Leon let out a breath, stepping back slightly but keeping his eyes locked on hers. "You think jumping into the water makes you free? That's not freedom—that's desperation."
She let out a small chuckle, but it quickly turned into full-blown laughter, sharp and bitter. "You're talking about desperation? Seriously? Of course, I'm desperate! My life has been nothing but dull, and now the so-called father I can't even bring myself to call 'father' wants us to get married—for his sake? And you think I'm not supposed to feel desperate?"
Leon was baffled. He realized his choice of words had been wrong.
"So, what's next after getting married?" She continued laughing, but the laughter didn't reach her eyes. "Really… you're really making my life feel like a novel, aren't you? An arranged marriage disguised as love, and then, oh wait…" She widened her eyes slightly. "Am I going to be left for a few years?" She smirked, clearly provoking him.
He just stared at her for a few moments, his gaze unwavering. A brief, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his lips before his expression turned unreadable again. "You're already thinking about the future?"
Emma sighed, exasperated. "I guess you didn't get my point."
He raised an eyebrow. "What is your point?"
"I'm just asking you to agree to this marriage," Leon continued, his tone calm, almost clinical. "It's mutual help. You help me with something I need through this marriage, and I help you get the life you want. It's that simple."
"Simple?" Emma huffed, a smile creeping onto her lips, though her eyes remained cold. "What exactly do you need from this marriage?"
His lips remained pursed, the question striking a nerve. "I need my life."
"Your life?" Emma blinked in surprise, taking a step back as she scanned him up and down. "What the heck is wrong with your life?" She scoffed, shaking her head. "You have everything, Mr. Leon Gray." Her eyes narrowed in disdain. "Ungrateful brat."
He smirked hearing her words, "So are we gonna play a judging game now? Should I say the same thing?"
Emma's eyes flashed with anger. "What? Do you want to live my life?" She took a deep breath, her voice shaking slightly. "I grew up without a father. My mother? She was like a fair-weather friend—showed up when it suited her and disappeared whenever she felt like it. And you might not know this, but she left me when I turned eighteen. Just... left. No explanation, no goodbye. And now, I'm stuck with this question—am I really that much of a burden?"
Leon blinked, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. 'That's not what I know,' he thought. Emma Whitmore—the girl who was supposed to be his bride since she was eighteen—had been sent abroad suddenly, under the guise of seeking treatment for health issues.
"What? You offer me a life as a princess, but you don't even know how I've lived for the past 25 years?" Emma scoffed, noticing the expression on Leon's face.
He stayed silent. He had never truly met Emma Whitmore. For the past 17 years, he had lived under the assumption that their engagement had been broken, with no news from the Whitmore family. But then, two months ago, a book appeared before him. The book appeared like an answer to every weird and strange thing that had been happening around him.
It seemed like nothing special at first—a simple, old leather-bound novel. But the moment he opened it, everything shifted. The story mirrored his life, and Emma's name kept appearing. It hit him like a freight train: the world he was living in was the same as the one in the book. And Emma? She wasn't just some distant name anymore—she was part of this strange, twisted narrative.
In that instant, he knew he couldn't ignore it. He had to find her. But just as he was pondering how, he suddenly found himself pulled into something—an image of his life, one he thought was his alone, now playing out like a scene from a telenovela on a woman's television.
After that moment, he realized he had somehow landed in a world that looked identical to his, but everything was different. That's when it all started to make sense.
But when it came to everything else—the strange coincidences, the timing of his meetings with Emma—he realized it was all part of his plan, his manipulation. He had orchestrated it all to get Emma Whitmore back into the novel world, the very world he believed she belonged to. It was collapsing because she was forgetting everything about them, and in Leon's mind, her existence in that world was the key to saving it.
A snap of fingers pulled Leon out of his thoughts. "Excuse me, sir," Emma said, her tone sharp. "I'm not here to watch you daydream. So, if you don't mind, I'd like to go back home now."
"This is your home..." Leon said, his voice calm. Just as he spoke, fireworks erupted in the sky, signaling the arrival of a new year.