Morning arrived with a pale glow filtering through the curtains of the penthouse. Sophia emerged from the bedroom in a silk robe, her hair tousled and her mood foul. She had barely slept, her mind replaying the events of the day before and every smug look Liam had thrown her way.
Liam was already up, seated at the breakfast bar with a steaming cup of coffee in hand, dressed casually in a fitted black shirt and gray slacks. He looked annoyingly refreshed, his calm demeanor only fueling Sophia's irritation.
"Good morning, Mrs. Carter," he greeted, his tone dripping with mockery.
Sophia's jaw tightened. "Don't call me that."
His lips twitched in amusement. "It's legally your name now, whether you like it or not."
Ignoring him, she moved to the counter, pouring herself a cup of coffee. The silence stretched as tension simmered between them.
Finally, Liam spoke again, his voice cool and calculated. "We have an image to maintain, Sophia. The board at Carter Industries expects us to attend a charity gala tonight. Together."
She turned to him, eyes narrowing. "And you assume I'll just play along?"
"You will," he said confidently, setting his cup down. "Unless you want your father's debts to resurface."
Her chest tightened with anger at the mention of her family. "You're disgusting, you know that?"
Liam shrugged, unfazed. "I'm practical. There's a difference."
Sophia leaned closer, her voice low and full of venom. "You may have forced me into this marriage, but don't think for a second you control me."
He met her gaze, his own unflinching. "We'll see about that."
The air crackled between them, neither willing to back down. It was clear: their war was just beginning.