The following morning, Sophia woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the penthouse. Groggy and still wrapped in her irritation from the night before, she padded into the kitchen, where Liam was casually reading the newspaper, a steaming mug in hand.
He looked up, his piercing blue eyes scanning her disheveled appearance. "Morning, sunshine," he said with a smirk.
Sophia ignored him, grabbing a mug and pouring her own coffee. The silence between them was thick, but not awkward—it was a standoff. She took a long sip, savoring the bitterness as her thoughts churned.
"What's on the agenda today, Mrs. Carter?" Liam finally asked, folding the paper neatly and setting it aside.
"Don't call me that," she snapped, leaning against the counter.
His smirk deepened. "You're going to have to get used to it eventually."
"I don't plan on staying married to you long enough for that to happen."
He tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "And how exactly do you plan to get out of this? Divorce isn't an option until the terms of the agreement are fulfilled, and I doubt you'd risk your family's future just to spite me."
Her jaw clenched. He was right, and they both knew it. "I'll figure something out," she muttered.
Liam stood, his movements deliberate as he approached her. He stopped just close enough to invade her space but not enough to touch her. "You're stuck with me, Sophia. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be for both of us."
Sophia refused to back down, even as her heart raced. "I don't give up that easily, Liam. You'll learn that soon enough."
He chuckled, low and infuriatingly calm. "I'm counting on it."
As he walked away, she realized: their war was far from over.