"Taking you to the doctor, what else do you think I'm doing?" Ethan shot her a sideways glance, a slight sarcastic smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Emma opened her mouth, but no words came out. Seeing the blank expression on his face that hovered somewhere between a smile and a sneer, she figured there wasn't much point in saying anything.

Her silence didn't sit right with Ethan for some reason. He carried her back to the bedroom, put her down gently, and pressed the button on the landline.

"Jacob, get the family doctor up here."

After hanging up, he turned and found her quietly rubbing her ankle, staring at the floor without saying a word.

"How'd this even happen?"

His voice had a faint bite to it, and for a second, Emma thought she'd imagined the concern in it.

Was... was he actually worried?

"I twisted it walking out of the room. Didn't really notice at first," she replied, her tone softer as she slowed her motions. Just then, Jacob arrived at the door with Dr. Ramos.

"Mr. Hunt," Dr. Ramos greeted him with a nod, followed by a nurse carrying a medical kit.

"Check her ankle."

"Of course."

Even before Ethan gave the order, Dr. Ramos's eyes had already gone to Emma's swollen red ankle. He squatted down, pressing gently on the tender area. The sharp inhale from Emma was immediate.

"Ma'am, could you try rotating your ankle a bit?"

Emma did as asked, but the motion only made the pain worse.

After watching her struggle with the movement, Dr. Ramos stood upright and faced Ethan with professionalism.

"It's a simple sprain. No damage to the bones or ligaments. Use an ice pack wrapped in a towel for the first couple of days, then switch to warm compresses. It should heal on its own in less than a week."

Ethan gave a small nod. "Jacob, show them out." Then he left the room as well.

As he walked away, Emma let out a breath and gave a half-smile, one filled with helplessness.

She should've known. Any kindness he showed her always came with that air of detachment. Just scraps.

But the moment she saw the towel and ice in his hands, her thoughts hit pause.

"What are you doing? Sit back down," Ethan said firmly when he noticed her trying to get up. Dropping the towel and ice beside him, he gently pushed her shoulders down to stop her.

"Lift your leg," he instructed, motioning towards the small padded bench beside the bed.

"Huh? Oh, okay..."

Emma, totally thrown off by his unexpected care, dazedly followed his instructions and propped her foot on the bench. A chill crept over her skin almost instantly.

Looking down, she saw him leaning over, carefully placing the cold towel on her ankle, his expression calm and focused.

That one small act-so deliberate, so gentle-it felt like he'd thrown a pebble into the still water of her heart, rippling straight through her.

He was actually icing her ankle himself.

She couldn't even begin to explain what she was feeling right now. All those thoughts of letting go that she'd worked so hard to build... crumbled completely under this unexpected tenderness.

"So, still hurts?" Ethan asked quietly.

While gently pressing the ice against her ankle, Ethan casually spoke up like it was habit. But when he looked up, he found Emma staring at him with bright, hopeful eyes.

"Ahem."

Right then, it hit him-just how intimate what he was doing looked.

He quickly dropped the towel from his hand, not even caring that the ice cubes scattered across the floor, and stood up, clearing his throat like it'd cover up the awkwardness.

What the hell was wrong with him today? He actually did all that, and it felt kind of natural.

Since he could remember, only one person had ever made him act like this-Lily.

The longer he looked at Emma's sparkly eyes, the more flustered he felt, a kind of panic creeping up on him that he didn't know how to handle.

"Don't overthink it. I just don't want people knowing that the Hunt family's daughter-in-law can't do anything but embarrass herself."

Throwing those words behind him, Ethan turned and walked straight out of the bedroom without so much as a glance.

The moment his words hit, the sparkle in Emma's eyes slowly faded.

She looked down at the towel tossed on the ground and the melting ice scattered around-and that little warmth she'd felt seconds ago went cold, just like that.

So yeah... she was mistaken again.

...

A week later.

7 p.m.

Daisy Design Co.

"Emma, don't stay too late, alright?"

Stepping out of his office, Manager Lee saw Emma still working intently at her desk.

"Got it, Amy."

She'd taken three days off because of her foot, which had set her back a bit. So, she'd been squeezing in extra hours to catch up. Now she was finally down to the last piece of her design.

"And... done!"

Finishing the final line, Emma leaned back with a big stretch, relief written all over her face.

She saved her draft to her hard drive, grabbed her bag, and finally left the office.

It wasn't until she stepped outside that she realized the sky had already gone dark.

"Pretty sure the buses stopped running by now..." she muttered, walking along the roadside, eyes scanning for an empty cab.

Then came the blaring of a car horn behind her. A sleek, silver Maybach pulled up right next to where she was standing.

Emma paused, frowning slightly as she glanced at the car. When the window slowly rolled down, a face she knew all too well appeared.

"Michael? What are you doing here?" she asked, surprised and a little puzzled.

She was sure the Owens Group was based on the west side of the city-here was the east side.

"Had some errands to run over here. Didn't expect to run into you, though," he said, stepping out of the car with that polished smile of his.

"Ah, my office is just over there," Emma replied, chuckling lightly as her guard dropped a bit.

"So, done for the day then? Need a ride home? Not easy to find a cab around here at this hour."

As he spoke, Michael casually watched her reactions, taking in every subtle change in her expression.

After that gala night, Michael had someone look her up. That's when he found out her marriage to Ethan was just business, with barely any love between them.

Which was exactly why he showed up now-no need to hold back anymore.

"Uhm..." Before Emma could come up with an excuse to decline, Michael had already circled around to the other side, pulled open the door, and stood there waiting for her to hop in.

Seeing how polite he was and thinking back to the good impression he'd left, Emma smiled and nodded.

"Alright then, I'll take the ride. Thanks."

Michael chuckled softly, the corners of his mouth lifting. "No trouble at all. I'm happy to."

As the car eased into motion, Michael turned on the stereo. A familiar tune floated out from the speakers.

"Is this...the theme song from that love story movie?"

Emma asked all of a sudden.

"Yeah, it is. You like it?" He tilted his head slightly, his deep gaze landing on her face.

Emma nodded gently, kind of surprised that Michael liked this kind of soft, slightly melancholic piano piece. That little bit of distance she'd been keeping faded away.

"Yeah, I really like it."

Michael noticed the subtle shift in her mood and couldn't help showing a faint smile.

He'd done his homework-it's not like he didn't know that before Emma got married, she loved nothing more than piano and live concerts.

And now, he was just using this shared interest to close the gap between them a little more.

"I remember meeting Mr. Grace once. He told me that his daughter wasn't into finance or business stuff-more into music and plants. Looks like he was right."

Michael tapped his fingers lightly on the steering wheel as he teased her.

Emma blushed a bit, not expecting her dad to say something like that in front of others.

"Yeah... those contracts and papers bore me to death. You must think it's silly."

If she'd taken an interest, Matthew probably wouldn't have been in such a rush to find a competent son-in-law.

Too bad she ended up marrying someone completely different from what her father wanted.

The thought made her a bit down for a moment.

Sensing the change, Michael relaxed his foot on the gas and casually tugged at his collar.

"I think the last time I saw you was at a design event, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, I work at a design company-mainly do jewelry design."

The shift in topic snapped Emma back into the conversation and to a subject she was comfortable with.

"Jewelry design? That actually sounds really cool."

Michael glanced at her pale, elegant side profile and the smile on his face deepened.

"It's not as fancy as you think. Nothing like your field. Every time I have to hand in a draft, it's a struggle."

"A struggle? You don't strike me as someone who'd have trouble with design. I mean, you wouldn't have been at that event if you didn't have the skills."

His calm tone carried a sort of quiet confidence. Emma glanced at him a few times, feeling surprised.

She figured Michael would be like Ethan, assuming she only got invited to that kind of event because of her family connections.

Noticing that Emma had glanced his way a few times, Michael tilted his head slightly and asked, "What is it? Did I say something wrong?"

"No... I'm just a bit surprised, that's all."

Emma turned her head and sat up straighter, eyes quietly fixed on the road ahead.

Seeing her reaction, Michael dropped the topic and didn't press further. Not long after, the car rolled up to the entrance of the villa complex.

A soft female voice rang out as the license plate scanner scanned and approved the car:

"Ding-You may proceed."

Hearing that, Emma raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You live here too?"

"Nope, just own a house here," Michael replied with a chuckle, catching the look on her face. Then he casually asked, "Which unit is yours?"

"Block B, number 6." The address slipped out before she could stop herself. Emma had thought about getting off at the entrance, but this community was ridiculously huge-and her unit just happened to be halfway up the mountain, in the farthest zone.

She lifted her eyes to the dark night, with only the faint glow of scattered streetlights.

If she got off here, she'd probably get completely turned around in the dark.

"Oh right, I've actually got a small favor to ask. Don't know if you've got time these days."

Out of the blue, Michael brought it up.

"My cousin's birthday is in a couple of months. I want to get her a necklace, but everything out there feels kind of generic. Do you think you could design one for her?"

Emma was about to respond when Michael added, "If it works for you, I'll place an order through your company under my name. It won't interfere with your job that way."

With him putting it like that, and considering all the times he'd helped her in the past, Emma found it hard to say no-plus, it was for his cousin.

"Sure, but I'll need to know at least a few of her preferences. That'll help with the design."

Michael knew then that his little plan was working.

"She loves bunnies," he added with a small smile. "And she's really into pink."

He gave a brief rundown just as the car slowed to a stop.

Emma had already unbuckled her seatbelt and was getting ready to open the door when Michael had already walked around and opened it for her.

"Oh, thanks." Caught off guard by the thoughtful gesture, a soft smile crept across her lips as she said it.

That smile, and everything else, was caught by someone standing further back.

After finishing up a late meeting, Ethan had driven home, only to find that Emma still wasn't back yet.

An hour passed and he couldn't sit still anymore. Grabbing his keys, he drove out, only to catch sight of his wife stepping out of a sleek sports car, with a relaxed smile on her face... a smile he'd never seen on her before.

That smile was warm and bright-so much that it stung his eyes.

His hand, clutching the car keys, unconsciously tightened. For some reason, something hit him hard in the chest, sending a dull ache spreading outward.

She had never smiled like that at him.

...

Hunt family villa.

"You're back."

After chatting a little with Michael about the necklace design, Emma walked through the door, only to see the man who had barely stepped foot in the house these past few days, now sitting on the sofa, face clouded with gloom.

Seeing Emma casually kick off her shoes and head upstairs like nothing happened, Ethan felt a sudden rush of irritation burning in his chest.

"Why are you back so late tonight?"

His voice was low, that usual calm and magnetic tone, but he wasn't fooling anyone-not even himself. There was something cold layered beneath the words.

"Overtime at work."

Emma glanced his way and gave a short reply. She unconsciously shivered, sweeping her eyes across the living room before landing on the empty dining table. Something about his stiff expression made her scalp tingle.

"Overtime?"

Ethan let out a faint laugh, not the amused kind. His lips curved with sarcasm, and his dark eyes held a look that said he didn't believe a word of it.

Did she really think he was that easy to fool?

He tugged at his collar, frustrated, popping a few buttons on his crisp white shirt.

"If there's nothing else, I'm heading up."

Emma didn't understand what was up with him tonight-he was suddenly unusually talkative. Leaving that sentence behind, she turned to go upstairs.

Watching her back, Ethan only got more annoyed. Looked to him like she couldn't even be bothered to give an explanation.

He abruptly stood up, took a few strides forward, and grabbed her slender wrist.

"What are you doing?"

Emma instantly tried to shake off his grip, startled by the sudden hold. But the next second, Ethan forcefully pinned her against the wall, arms on either side of her blocking any escape. His deep-set eyes stared into hers, unmoving.

"Ethan, what are you doing? Let me go!"

She struggled a bit, but he just leaned in closer, and before she could react, his lips were already on hers, hot and relentless.

Feeling the soft pressure on her lips, Emma's eyes widened in disbelief. Was he seriously doing this?

Before her mind could catch up, Ethan had already parted her lips, his tongue sliding in, brushing against her teeth. At the same time, his fingers slipped under her clothes, pressing against the curve of her waist.

By now, Emma had no strength left to resist. She just froze, letting him take control.

Outside, the moonlight faded into the deep black of night. Inside the villa, the two of them were still tangled together, too close and unwilling to part.

...

The next morning.

9 AM.

Upstairs bedroom in the villa.

As the first rays of sunlight filtered in through the window, the two on the bed slowly began to stir.

"Mm-"

Shielding her eyes instinctively from the brightness, Emma woke up groggily, staring at the familiar chandelier looming overhead.

She shifted her arm, and an ache crawled up from her muscles. Rubbing her temples, she pushed herself up from the bed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the man lying beside her, Ethan.

The moment she saw him, memories from last night came crashing back. Emma's fingers tightened around the blanket. She had no idea how she was supposed to face this man right now.

Before she could figure out what to say or how to act, the man on the bed opened his eyes. He was already watching her quietly.

"No breakfast today?"

Ethan sat up like a satisfied predator stretching after a hunt. The silk sheet slid down his chest, revealing a toned, powerful body. His voice was low and a little raspy-like aged whiskey, deep and smooth.

Emma looked at him - that laid-back posture, that casual tone - and felt a sharp pang of anger mixed with disbelief.

What was she to him, really? Some kind of pet? At his beck and call?

"You weren't drunk last night, were you? And this time, I wasn't pretending to be Lily to seduce you." Her voice was laced with sarcasm as she stepped off the bed barefoot, not even caring she still had on just a flimsy slip dress.

"Oh, and I'm done making breakfast for you. From now on, do it yourself. I'm tired."

She finally met his gaze head-on. A smirk curled on her lips, a bright, almost mocking smile that hit him like a slap, stinging and impossible to ignore.

Ethan's brows drew together. He didn't say a word. He just threw off the covers and walked out.

As she stared at his back disappearing out the door, the absurdity of it all stung even more.

Of course. She was just some toy to him.

...

Back in his room, Ethan got changed and came out dressed, sharp and composed again.

"Jacob, have the chef prepare breakfast. Make sure there's a variety."

Just as Jacob was passing him the Financial Times, he heard Ethan give the order.

"Yes, sir."

...

An hour later.

After soaking in the tub for forty minutes, scrubbing away every trace of him from her skin, Emma wrapped herself in a towel and stepped out of the bathroom.

She'd just finished drying her hair and getting dressed when someone knocked at the bedroom door.

"Ma'am, breakfast is ready."

Hearing the housekeeper calling from the other side, Emma grabbed her bag and casually opened the door.

She was halfway down the stairs when she saw Ethan sitting calmly at the table.

Instantly, she turned, ready to leave.

"Come back."

His voice, stern and low, cut through the air as soon as he saw her turn.

"Ma'am, Mr. Hunt specifically asked the kitchen to make a big spread today. Won't you at least try some?" Jacob added quickly, sensing the tension.

Emma knew better than to make a scene in front of the staff. She sighed and walked over, sitting down across from Ethan.

She avoided his eyes, lowering her gaze to the meal. Indeed, the table was packed with food.

But appetite? That she didn't have.

She picked at a bite of egg yolk and sipped half a glass of milk. Then she dabbed her mouth with a napkin and said gently, "I'm done."

"That's it? That tiny bit and you're full?"

Ethan's patience snapped as he looked at her barely touched plate. He turned to the maid nearby and said coldly, "Pile more food onto her plate."