4

Desperate for a distraction, Cass abruptly stood up, making the rickety wooden chair screech loudly against the floor planks. She needed to keep her hands busy. If she sat there doing nothing, she would end up staring at the expensive watch on Liam's wrist again, overthinking her tragic fate until she completely lost her mind. She gathered their empty bowls, the greasy forks, and the small aluminum pot they used to cook dinner.

"Wait, don't wash those," Liam said suddenly. His voice cut through the quiet room, casual and sharp.

Cass froze, the plastic bowls clutched tightly against her chest. She slowly turned around, her perfectly shaped eyebrows snapping together as she shot him an icy glare. "Why? What are you going to do with them? Throw them away?" she spat back sarcastically. "Or maybe you plan to parade them in the middle of the living room as a decoration?"

Liam shook his head slowly, letting out a heavy, exhausted sigh as if dealing with her was the most tiring part of his day. He stood up from his side of the table, closing the distance between them with slow, measured steps. Without a word, he reached out and firmly took the bowls and the pot right out of her hands.

"Give them here. I will be the one to wash them," he muttered flatly.

Cass’s eyes went completely wide, her jaw practically dropping. She stared at him as if he had suddenly sprouted a second head. "You? Washing dishes? Wow, what a miracle. I thought you married me just to have a personal maid in this house? Or maybe you're just trying to impress me so I'll forgive you for accusing me earlier?"

Liam rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful. He turned his back to her, stepping up to the tiny, rusty sink and turning on the single faucet. The water hissed loudly as it hit the aluminum pot.

"Yes, me. Didn't I tell you earlier that I would do my part and handle my responsibilities as your husband?" Liam countered over the sound of running water, his tone dripping with mockery. "It would be embarrassing to make you do it, seniorita. Your expensive skin might get ruined by a dish soap that costs mere pennies. And why on earth would I throw these away? You can clearly see how hard life is, and you think I would just throw away perfectly good plates? Not everyone here can afford to waste things like you used to in your mansion."

Cass bristled at the insult, her cheeks flaring a bright pink. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, taking a step toward his back. "Excuse me? For your information, I do not waste things! And stop calling me seniorita as if I am some horribly cruel person! I only offered to wash them to help, but if you're going to be this sarcastic, you can shove those plates down your throat!"

She threw her hands up in the air as a sign of complete surrender, backing away from the kitchen area. "Fine! Do whatever you want. You talk way too much, you sound like a broken record!"

Liam didn't bother answering her. He simply grabbed a piece of cheap laundry soap—since proper dishwashing liquid was a luxury he couldn't afford—and began scrubbing the bowls with intense concentration. His broad shoulders moved with a steady, practiced rhythm.

Cass stood a few feet away, her arms still crossed tightly as she monitored his movements like an angry hawk. She wanted to find a reason to criticize him, to point out that he was doing a terrible job, but she couldn't. He was actually thorough. He didn't leave a single grease stain on the cheap plastic, and he handled the fragile items with surprising care.

As she watched his back, the sharp anger in her chest slowly began to melt away, replaced by a strange, unfamiliar emotion. She bit her lower lip, secretly observing the stubborn tilt of his jaw and the way his messy hair fell over his forehead.

I won't admit it, Cass thought to herself, a tiny, subconscious smile tugging at the corner of her lips. But deep down inside, I really didn't expect this rough stranger to have a decent, softer side to him. I thought he only knew how to be grumpy and arrogant.

It was a terrifying realization. The thought that this mysterious, poor stranger might actually possess a shred of decency made her feel vulnerable. She quickly shook her head, forcing her face back into a stern pout before he could turn around and catch her smiling. She could not afford to let her guard down around him. Not when he was still keeping secrets about that Rolex watch.

The moment Liam turned off the faucet, the brief truce evaporated. He dried his hands on a faded, tattered hand towel, reached over to the far corner of the room where a single, flattened, ancient pillow was resting, and grabbed it. With an effortless flick of his wrist, he tossed it across the room.

The pillow landed with a dull thud right in the center of the ragged, torn sofa.

"You are sleeping there," Liam announced. His voice was completely casual, as if he hadn't just sentenced her to a night of spinal torture.

Cass stared at the pillow, then looked up at him, her eyes blinking rapidly in sheer disbelief. "Huh? What on earth do you mean by that?"

Liam leaned back against the counter, folding his arms as a smug grin slowly crept onto his face. "What I mean is, I am not letting you sleep in my bed. You get the sofa. I get the bed."

Cass let out a string of angry curses inside her own mind. Are you kidding me?! She stepped forward, her face turning red. "Hey, wait just a minute! It should be me on the bed, and you on the sofa! I am the woman here! Don't you have even a shred of respect left in your body?!"

Unbelievable! she added angrily to herself. I take back everything I just thought! This guy doesn't have a soft side at all! He is completely annoying!

Liam let out a sharp, mocking scoff, his lips curling into a smug grin as he looked her up and down, from her styled hair down past her white dress, all the way to her dusty shoes, evaluating her like an uninvited guest.

"Oh really? And what does you being a woman have to do with where we sleep?" Liam asked, his tone dripping with absolute amusement. "You act like you are a queen visiting a palace. Did you expect a golden bed here? Maybe you're forgetting where you are."

"Even so! Just looking at the physical layout, it's crystal clear that the sofa is way smaller than the bed! I won't fit there!" Cass reasoned, her voice reaching a high pitch. "You're a man, your body is much stronger against the cold and hardness! It's my right to sleep on a proper bed!"

"Your right?" Liam let out a sharp, mocking eye-roll. He stepped closer, using his height advantage to look down at her. "You are living under my roof now, so you better learn to follow my rules. There is no 'special treatment' here, senyorita. If you don't like the sofa, the floor is wide enough. Or better yet..." He pointed a mocking finger toward the wooden door. "...you can just go back to your grand mansion. Let's see if you won't run back crying to Loreen."

Cass’s breath hitched. Mentioning her stepmother was a low blow, and they both knew it. Her hands balled into tight fists, and for a split second, she seriously considered taking off her shoe and launching it directly at his forehead.

Just stay calm, Cass. You cannot murder your husband... at least not on your very first night together, she chanted in her head, taking a massive, shaky breath to stabilize her soaring temper.

"You have a horrible attitude," she hissed, her voice trembling with rage. "You really love proving how rude you can be, don't you? Do you honestly think you can scare me with that threat? I am never going back to that mansion with a bloody face in defeat!"

"Good to hear then," Liam replied indifferently, turning his back on her as he walked over to the cot. "At least I won't be wasting my breath."

"You are absolutely shameless!" Cass stomped her foot, but Liam merely ignored her, sitting down on the edge of the mattress and starting to untie his worn-out sneakers.

Realizing that no amount of yelling would grant her access to the bed, Cass had no choice but to drag herself over to the narrow, lumpy sofa. She sat down heavily, the old springs inside the cushions groaning in protest under her weight. The fabric smelled faintly of dust and old newspapers. When she tried to lie down, she realized just how tiny the space truly was; she had to curl her knees up to her chest just to keep her feet from hanging off the edge.

Liam pulled the string of the single yellow lightbulb dangling from the ceiling, plunging the entire room into darkness. The only illumination came from the faint moonlight filtering through the dusty windowpane, casting long, eerie shadows across the floorboards.

Cass lay on her side, staring blankly at the dark silhouette of the kitchen table. Her body was exhausted, but her mind was wide awake, racing at a million miles an hour. She clutched the flat pillow tightly against her chest, using it as a shield against the unfamiliar chill of the room.

Despite her intense anger, she couldn't stop the questions from flooding her thoughts. Who really is this guy I married? she wondered, her eyes narrowing in the dark. One minute, he cares enough not to let me get tired washing dishes. Then, he's incredibly selfish when it comes to the bed. And that watch... it really didn't look fake.

And the worst part of it all? The absolute most frustrating thing about this entire nightmare was a realization she couldn't voice out loud: Why is it that despite everything... why can't I completely hate this guy?

She should hate him. He was arrogant, stubborn, and he had completely ruined her peace of mind. Yet, every time she looked at him, she didn't feel the same pure disgust she felt for Loreen. It was confusing, chaotic, and it made her incredibly furious with herself.

"You are completely heartless, Liam Lucas Javier. I am seriously going to strangle you tomorrow," Cass muttered into the darkness, her teeth grinding together so loudly she thought they might chip. She made sure her voice was a tiny, barely audible whisper.

"Only if you can actually do it," a deep, calm voice instantly replied from across the room.

Cass bolted upright, her heart leaping into her throat. Her face burned a bright scarlet in the dark. "Just shut up! You pest!" she snapped back, her voice dripping with sheer embarrassment.

In her anger, she had completely forgotten the structural reality of their new home. There was no wall, no door, not even a thin curtain separating the sofa from the bed. The apartment was literally just one small box. Every single breath she took could be heard by him.

"And how am I supposed to sleep when I can clearly hear you whispering curses and swearing at my name over there?" Liam’s voice drifted through the air, sounding completely relaxed, with a heavy hint of an amused smirk hidden behind his words. "You might give me nightmares with all your curses."

Cass rolled her eyes forcefully into the pitch-black room, slamming her head back down onto the hard pillow. She pulled the thin, scratchy blanket all the way up to her nose, wishing she could disappear into the floor planks.

"Oh, just shut up! I am going to sleep! Argh! You are so incredibly annoying!" she grumbled loudly, turning her back completely toward his direction.

She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her breathing to slow down, determined to ignore his existence for the rest of the night. But as she finally drifted off into a heavy sleep, the steady, rhythmic sound of Liam’s breathing across the small room felt strangely like an anchor, keeping her grounded in the middle of her ruined world.