Emma Johnson perched on Liam Williams's thigh, his sharp jawline pressed against her shoulder. He nuzzled her gently, his warm breath ghosting across her neck.
She couldn't pinpoint when his kisses began. They were featherlight, teasing, sending tiny jolts of electricity through her. Her entire body went limp, nearly surrendering to the sensation.
His hand slid beneath her sweater, the rough texture of his palm grazing her delicate skin.
"Stop... this is the office."
Emma's breathing grew ragged. She caught his arm, halting his movements. Gazing into his sky-blue eyes, she found herself momentarily stunned. Why did his gaze seem so layered with emotion, his eyes glazed over as if veiled by mist?
Knock! Knock! Knock!
A rap at the door sent Emma springing from Liam's lap as if shocked. The flush on her cheeks hadn't faded. Liam's eyes darkened, clearly displeased with the interruption.
"Come in."
His voice was ice-cold.
"Sir, here are the documents you requested."
Emilia Clark stepped inside, her eyes cautious. She barely dared to meet Liam's gaze, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Leave them there."
Liam's expression remained grim. Emilia stole a glance at Emma, who stood beside him. Her face and ears were flushed a suspicious shade of pink. The folds on her nude-colored sweater were clearly rumpled, not yet smoothed out. Emilia had obviously walked in at the wrong moment.
If her guess was right, the CEO and Emma must have been in the middle of something intimate.
A flicker of disappointment crossed Emilia's eyes. She sensed the oppressive aura radiating from the noble man seated on the black leather chair. She quickly placed the documents down and hurried out of the office.
"Look what you've done! Emilia must have guessed what we were up to. I won't be able to face her now."
Emma straightened her tousled hair, convinced that Emilia had figured it out from her expression. Embarrassment washed over her.
"Are we having an affair? We're legally married. Why should we care what others think? If she weren't a friend you strongly recommended, I'd have fired her on the spot."
Liam spoke with utter indifference, his arrogance unchecked.
Emma fell silent, studying his handsome, proud face. She thought to herself, This man's audacity knows no bounds. Does being married give us a free pass?
It's like seeing a couple passionately kissing on the subway—it makes everyone uncomfortable, doesn't it?
Forget it. I can't reason with this man. Besides, Emilia didn't actually see anything. I'll just pretend nothing happened. Even if she wants to tease me, she won't dare bring it up.
Three days later, the business banquet hosted by William Thompson was held at The Grandeur Hotel. Emma didn't overdo her look, opting for a simple purple sleeveless tuxedo that exuded an air of mystery and allure. When the hotel's golden doors swung open, and Emma appeared in the banquet hall alongside Liam, who was dressed in a Versace suit, every eye in the room fell on them.
What defined a stunning couple? What made a perfect match? All the adjectives in the world wouldn't seem out of place on these two.
"Mr. Williams, what an honor to have you here. You truly elevate this gathering."
William Thompson approached Liam, a goblet in one hand, extending the other for a handshake.
Liam slowly reached out and clasped William's hand.
"The pleasure is mine. I couldn't miss your banquet, Mr. Thompson."
His smile was polite but distant, carrying a faint chill. Emma noticed the veins bulging on both men's hands as they shook. It seemed they were locked in a silent battle of strength.
After a long moment, they finally released each other. William's grip on his goblet tightened unconsciously. He steadied himself for a moment before his strained breathing returned to normal.
"Mrs. Williams, you look absolutely stunning tonight. It's a pity there's no beauty contest here, or you'd surely be crowned the winner."
William's face wore a smile that made Emma's skin crawl. He lifted her hand, lowering his head as if to kiss the back of it in a gentlemanly gesture.
A cold glint flashed in Liam's eyes, but before he could act, Emma yanked her hand back as if burned.
"Thank you, but there are plenty of beautiful ladies here. Saying that would only put a target on my back. I wouldn't agree with that."
Emma ignored William's awkwardly suspended hand, her beautiful face tinged with anger. Her tone was half-joking, half-serious.
William hadn't expected Emma to shut him down so quickly. Just like her cousin, Isabella Miller—full of thorns.
"Ha ha, don't misunderstand, Mrs. Williams. I would never have such intentions."
William felt the weight of everyone's gaze on the three of them and quickly masked his malice with a cheerful laugh.
"Only you know what's in your heart. I don't have X-ray vision."
Emma's words were sharp, leaving no room for pleasantries. Though a smile lingered on her lips, anyone with clear eyes could see it didn't reach her eyes.
William gritted his teeth, cursing her silently. But he maintained the curve of his lips, knowing too many eyes were watching. He couldn't afford to lose face over a woman.
New guests arrived, and William went to greet them. Those familiar with Liam came over to chat. Emma stayed cleverly by his side, her smile always gentle and elegant.
Suddenly, she felt a gaze fixed on her. Turning her head in confusion, she spotted Daniel Taylor standing by the buffet table. He held a wine glass, chatting lazily with a heavily made-up girl. Before she could look away, Daniel turned his head and met her eyes. A sly, wicked grin curled at the corner of his mouth as he raised his glass in a toast to her.
Emma caught a flash of light in his eyes—aggressive, predatory. She froze for a moment, then quickly averted her gaze.
She hadn't expected Daniel to show up here. But she had no intention of acknowledging him.