"I'm sorry, Mr. Gray…" One of the store staff hurried into the lobby, their face pale with panic. "We were supposed to escort Miss Whitmore inside, but something came up, and we were delayed."
The words echoed in the lavish hall, and Isabella's eyes widened in shock. The name "Whitmore" rang loudly in her mind, more powerful than any accusation she'd just thrown. Her confidence crumbled as the reality sank in.
Her knees gave out, and she collapsed onto the polished floor. "I…I didn't know… I'm so sorry…" she stammered, her voice trembling as she looked between Leon and Emma.
Leon's expression darkened, and a heavy silence filled the room as he took a step closer to Isabella. The tension was palpable, his presence alone commanding attention.
"You slapped her." His voice was quiet, almost too quiet, but every word carried weight. He didn't need to shout, the chill in his tone was enough to send a shiver down Isabella's spine.
Isabella's fiancé instinctively stepped between her and Leon, raising his hands defensively. "Mr. Gray, there's been a misunderstanding—"
Leon cut him off with a glance, sharp and unrelenting. "The only misunderstanding," he said coldly, "was you thinking you could walk into my space and behave like you own it."
He turned his gaze to Isabella, who was now visibly trembling. "People like you think power comes from what you wear, who you know, or what you can buy." He leaned in slightly, his calm demeanor somehow more terrifying than anger. "But real power? It's knowing that, with a single word, I can make you wish you'd never set foot here."
Isabella's knees wobbled, her voice barely a whisper. "I… I didn't mean…"
Leon raised a hand, silencing her effortlessly. "I don't need your excuses. What I need is for you to leave. Now."
The staff stood frozen, unsure whether to intervene. Leon addressed them without breaking eye contact with Isabella. "Remove them. And make sure they never come back. This place deserves better than people who tarnish its reputation."
The staff immediately jumped to action, guiding Isabella and her fiancé toward the exit. She stumbled, looking back at Leon, desperate to plead, but the steel in his gaze silenced her.
As the doors closed behind them, Leon turned back to Emma, his sharp demeanor softening ever so slightly. He took a step closer, tilting his head to examine her cheek.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice quieter now, the edge gone.
Emma blinked, still processing what had just happened. "I—yeah, I'm fine. But…" She gave him a half-smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Was all of that really necessary?"
Leon shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I don't tolerate disrespect. Especially toward you."
Emma blinked, her lips pressing into a pout. "But…" she gestured for him to lean down.
Leon rolled his eyes, clearly not interested. "What now?"
Frustrated, Emma grabbed the lapels of his suit and pulled him down without thinking. The sudden move startled even her, and her eyes widened as she realized how close their faces had gotten. "Oh—" she stammered, frozen for a moment.
Leon, equally caught off guard, blinked before steadying himself, his expression shifting from surprise to something unreadable.
The staff, noticing the intimate moment, quickly turned their backs, shuffling awkwardly.
Emma cleared her throat, her cheeks warming. "I didn't mean to—"
Leon tilted his head slightly, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Careful, Emma," he said softly. "If you're going to pull me in like that, at least be ready for what comes next."
Before Emma could even process his words, Leon leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing hers.
Without hesitation, Emma pushed her palm firmly against his lips, stopping him. "No," she said, her tone direct and firm. "Not happening."
Leon paused, blinking in surprise at her sudden boldness. For a brief moment, the room fell silent.
Emma's cheeks reddened, but she didn't back down. "You're not getting that close unless I say so."
Leon smirked, clearly amused. "Well, I'll take that as a challenge," he teased, but there was no mistaking the respect in his eyes.
Emma crossed her arms, still a little flustered, but her voice remained confident. "Whatever…" she bit her lower lips before continuing, "What I want to say earlier, isn't our marriage strictly business?" She said, half whispered.
"And?" Leon asked, his tone calm, though curiosity flickered in his eyes. He didn't quite catch her meaning.
Emma crossed her arms, her sass kicking in despite the nervous flutter still lingering from their almost-kiss. "So, why would you act that far?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to explain himself.
"Act that far?" Leon repeated, his tone steady as he met her gaze. "I told you, I don't tolerate anyone disrespecting you."
Her lips pursed. That answer wasn't enough for her. "But why? You could've just ignored it. This marriage…" She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper as her eyes darted around. "It's strictly business."
Leon didn't flinch. His lips curved into a faint smile as he replied, "Even if it's just business, shouldn't I at least act like your husband?"
Emma blinked, momentarily stunned by his words. Before she could respond, Leon took a small step closer, his gaze locked on hers. Then, in one swift move, he leaned in and left a quick, feather-light peck on her lips.
Her brain short-circuited.
By the time she realized what had happened, Leon was already walking away, his voice calm as he tossed a casual, "Let's go, Emma," over his shoulder.
Freeze. Emma stood rooted to the spot, her cheeks burning.
"That sneaky man!" she hissed under her breath, her hands balling into fists. 'That's cheating!' she screamed in her mind, her heart beating far louder than she wanted to admit.
"Miss Whitmore?"
Emma had barely taken a step to follow Leon when someone called her from behind. She turned, only for everything to blur. 'Damn it,' she thought, realizing calm days were long gone since Leon Gray offered her the role of a princess in her own messy life.