The ballroom was a glittering spectacle of wealth and power. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in golden light, and the murmur of polite conversation mingled with the soft strains of a string quartet. Sophia hated everything about it—the opulence, the people, and especially the man at her side.
Liam looked devastatingly polished in his tailored tuxedo, his confidence commanding the attention of everyone around him. Sophia, in a sleek emerald gown that hugged her figure, could feel eyes on her as they entered. The weight of expectation pressed against her chest, but she kept her head high, her smile a flawless mask.
"You clean up nicely," Liam remarked under his breath, offering her his arm.
She took it reluctantly, her nails digging into his sleeve. "And you're still insufferable."
"Charming as ever, my dear."
They moved through the crowd, stopping to exchange pleasantries with influential guests. Liam was in his element, his charm smooth and effortless. Sophia matched him word for word, refusing to let him outshine her.
Then came the moment she dreaded—a call to the dance floor. Liam extended his hand, his smirk daring her to refuse.
"Don't make a scene," he murmured.
Sophia plastered on a smile and took his hand. As they began to waltz, she felt the tension between them grow. Liam's grip was firm but not harsh, his movements confident as he guided her across the floor.
"You're surprisingly graceful," she admitted grudgingly.
He leaned in, his voice low. "And you're surprisingly tolerable—for now."
Sophia stepped closer, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, "Enjoy it while it lasts, Liam. This truce won't hold."
His smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Their smiles hid daggers as the room applauded, unaware of the battle beneath the surface.