Back in the office, Emma Johnson was no longer at her desk.
"I have to step out for something. I'm requesting leave."
Though she phrased it as a request, her tone made it clear she wasn't asking for Liam Williams' permission. It was a statement—pure and simple.
"Remember Mia Lewis?"
Liam didn't react to her attitude. He simply looked at her and asked.
"Yes. You've probably seen the posts on social media. I'm going to see her."
"Just her?"
Liam's gaze was sharp, cutting straight through her.
"And the fire."
Emma didn't bother hiding it. She'd done nothing wrong. If Liam wanted to doubt her, that was his problem. She wasn't about to grovel and explain herself to him.
Seeing her so straightforward, Liam felt something twist inside him.
"What if I say no?"
Liam held her gaze.
"Then I'll go anyway."
"Do you realize how unreasonable that sounds?"
"I wasn't planning on being reasonable with you. Why would I need to be?"
The words he'd once thrown at her came back to him now. He probably never imagined he'd hear them again, directed at himself.
He stared at her with complicated emotions. Her eyes were cold, carrying a frost that seemed to have settled deep in her chest, leaving nothing but an icy chill for him to feel.
"Emma, you need to remember your place. At home, you're Mrs. Williams. In this company, you're my assistant. Do you understand the difference?"
Liam had no intention of letting her leave. No matter how safe The Waterfront seemed, no one could guarantee there weren't reporters lurking nearby.
And more importantly, he didn't want her anywhere near Elijah Clark. Not even a glance.
"That's why I'm asking for leave."
"Fine. What's your reason?"
Liam's voice was cold.
Emma didn't want to tell him she needed Elijah to give her medicine for her hand. So she kept her mouth shut, refusing to back down.
"I won't let you leave without a valid reason. I'll have Christopher send over some documents. Once you've sorted them out, you'll be busy enough for the whole day. No time to meet anyone."
Liam's words made Emma feel like her heart was drowning in ice water. How could this man be so cold and ruthless? Her forehead was still injured, and now he wanted to pile on more work?
"Go make me a cup of coffee."
Emma stood frozen, staring at the handsome man sitting by the window. He was undeniably perfect, his noble aura enough to captivate countless women. Many would be intoxicated by him, even if he treated them coldly.
But Emma was different. The resentment and anger that had built up last night finally exploded. She ignored him completely, grabbed her bag from the desk, and headed for the door.
Liam was faster. One moment he was looking at documents, the next he was blocking her path.
"Emma, you're getting bolder by the day. You think you can just walk out without my permission?"
He grabbed her wrist and pressed her against the door. The force made her back slam against the wood.
Emma felt a sharp pain in her hand. His fingers pressed against her palm, and the deep ache made her cry out.
"Let go, you jerk."
Emma couldn't help cursing. Liam noticed something was wrong. He took her hand and examined her palm. She struggled, but couldn't break free.
In the end, he pinned her other hand too.
"What happened? When did you hurt your hand?"
Liam looked at the blisters on her palm. They'd been treated, but not very well. Clearly, this hadn't happened this morning.
"What do you think? No wonder you don't know. After all, you were too busy worrying about your sister yesterday. I'm just an outsider. It's no big deal if I get burned by a teapot."
Emma's tone was dripping with sarcasm, her eyes as cold as a mountain spring.
"Why didn't you tell me yesterday?"
"Would you have listened? You'd already sentenced me. I must have burned Amelia on purpose, right? So why bother showing you my wounds and begging for sympathy? In your eyes, I'm the villain anyway."
Liam was struck speechless. His chest tightened, as if something was squeezing it, making him uncomfortable.
"Now, let go of my hand. I'm going to find Elijah to treat my wound. I don't want a scar."
Emma's indifferent voice carried a sharp edge.
"Are you trying to piss me off?"
Liam lifted his head, his dark eyes locking onto hers, as if trying to see into her soul. Emma's heart ached, and she instinctively turned her head away, but he forced her to face him.
"Listen to me, Liam. Don't throw the word 'pique' around so casually. A woman only gets piqued when she's being playful with the man she loves. But you? You mean nothing to me. I have no reason to be angry with you. You're just a legal husband. After a year, when the contract ends, we won't be husband and wife anymore. You'll be nothing to me."
Emma's eyes, usually clear as autumn water, now held a merciless light as she spoke those cold words.
As her voice faded, Liam suddenly grabbed her chin. Pain shot through her, but she bit her lip and didn't make a sound.
"Emma, is that what you really think?"
His voice was icy, carrying an endless chill.
"Yes."
Emma stared back at him without flinching.
She felt his hand tighten, almost crushing her jaw. She thought he might actually break it. She could even see the veins bulging on the back of his hand.
But the next moment, Liam suddenly laughed.