Emma was humming happily as she stepped out of the bathroom. Today, her shower wasn't interrupted by any calls or messages from her annoying boss. She guessed the investment must have gone through and that he didn't need much from her anymore.
"I quit, I quit… hmm… hmm… Ain't gonna go to work no more…"
"That song's a little old-school…" A voice from the sofa immediately made Emma stop in her tracks.
Emma's gaze shot forward, and she froze when she saw two people standing near the sofa in her room.
"Oh my gosh! Who the hell let you two in here?!" she shouted, not out of anger, but sheer surprise.
"Well…" Leon replied casually, crossing his arms, "I got permission from your dad earlier." He shot a pointed glance at Melissa standing beside him.
"Err… I just wanted to talk," Melissa chimed in, looking a bit deflated by Emma's reaction. "I don't know that you already have an appointment for a wedding dress fitting today."
Emma let out a light sigh. "Can both of you leave the room now?"
"Why should I leave?" Leon replied, his tone slightly childish. "She should be the one to leave."
Emma raised an eyebrow. "So, Mr. CEO, is this the 'princess life' you said you wanted to give me? The one where I can't even have privacy in my own room?"
"We're going to share a room soon, so—"
"I'll leave first, sorry Emma." Melissa cut off Leon mid-sentence and quickly made her way to the door, clearly feeling too awkward to stay any longer.
"You too... shoo shoo..." Emma narrowed her eyes, giving a subtle but firm warning.
"But you should start adapting to this situation. We are going to get married soon…" Leon played ignorant and chose to walk to the sofa, taking a seat.
At the top of her annoyance she took off the towel that was covering her hair and threw it toward Leon.
He caught it just before it could hit the side of his face, his reflexes swift. "Uhh..." He turned to Emma, holding up the towel. "Did I look cool doing that?"
Her left brow lifted in disbelief. "Is this man really testing my patience?" she thought.
"You usually wear a full outfit right after your shower?" Leon asked, his eyes glancing at the plain white tee and skinny jeans she had on.
"And you still claim you're not a pervert?" Emma shot back, her tone sharp with suspicion.
"And what exactly is the connection between my question and me being a pervert?" Leon countered, his voice calm but laced with sarcasm, clearly intent on continuing this battle of wit and pointed remarks.
"Isn't it obvious? Why would you ask someone about their preferences?" She glared at him, her tone dripping with irritation.
Leon smirked, unfazed by her glare.
"So, do you walk out of your shower wearing nothing?" she continued, crossing her arms as she raised an accusatory brow.
"Hmm…" Leon leaned his head back against the sofa, letting the question linger for a moment. Then, with a slight turn of his head, he glanced at Emma out of the corner of his eye. "Well…" he began, a mischievous smirk creeping across his face, clearly enjoying the chance to tease her. "Which one do you think is my preference?"
Emma rolled her eyes, her arms tightening across her chest. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe the one that screams, 'I'm a shameless narcissist?'"
Leon chuckled softly, unfazed by her jab. "So, do you plan to wear that, going out?"
"I told you… I don't want to go," Emma's stare became narrowed and sharp, her irritation growing. "If you're so desperate to get married, I can always find another daughter from one of the top families. And just so you know…" she stepped forward, lowering her voice, "they hate me… I mean, The Whitmore."
Leon's smile faltered slightly, but he recovered quickly, giving her a cool, calculated look. "You think I need someone else? You're all I need right now."
Emma frowned, not fully understanding the weight behind his words. "What are you talking about?" she snapped. "I'm not some tool you can just—"
"Why else would we be doing this, Emma?" Leon interrupted, his voice just a little sharper than before. "You think this marriage is about us?" His eyes held hers, a strange tension hanging between them.
Emma's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean by that?"
Leon leaned back, the smirk returning, though it carried an unsettling undertone. "You'll figure it out soon enough. And one more thing—you're wrong. The Whitmore family adores you. So much, in fact, that if you said you wanted your brother to break off his engagement with your best friend, they'd do it without question."
Emma's frown deepened as his words sank in. "Are you crazy?!"
He stood, closing the distance between them with deliberate steps. His eyes locked onto hers, intense and unwavering, as if daring her to challenge him. "Try it," he murmured, his voice low, a smirk slowly curling his lips. "And you'll see."
Emma's eyes widened in shock, her frustration boiling over. "What the hell makes you think I'd ever do something like that?!" she shouted, her voice laced with anger and disbelief.
Leon tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable.
"No," Emma continued, shaking her head vehemently. "I take back what I said about you being crazy. You're not crazy… you're beyond insane."
"Pfft… I'm joking. Don't take it so seriously," Leon said, his tone suddenly light and casual, as though the tension moments earlier had been nothing more than a figment of her imagination.
The abrupt shift in his demeanor sent a shiver down Emma's spine, her instincts screaming that something was off.
She gulped, trying to steady herself. "There's a clear line between a joke and… whatever that was." Her voice was sharp, laced with equal parts annoyance and unease.
Leon chuckled softly, brushing off her words as if they were nothing. "Relax, Emma. You overthink everything. It's one of your charms… and one of your flaws."
Her eyes narrowed, her arms crossing defensively. "And it's your flaw to always think you can get away with everything," she shot back.
"Touché," he said with a grin, raising his hands in mock surrender. But there was something in his gaze—a flicker of amusement that felt far too calculating.
Emma didn't like it one bit.
"Hey, what's going on? Are you okay?" Cole, who had been looking for Melissa, finally found her in front of Emma's room. She looked pale and unsteady.
Melissa glanced up at Cole, her expression blank for a few seconds before she nodded awkwardly. "Ah, yes. I think I might have caught a cold. I need to head back for today. Can you let Emma know for me?" she said, briefly holding his hand before hurrying toward the stairs.
Cole watched her leave, concern flickering in his eyes.