Chapter 27: Breaking Point

By the fourth day, a routine has carved itself into my life.

Wake at seven. Breakfast in the dining room...alone, usually, though Grandmother occasionally appears to observe my table manners with critical eyes. Etiquette training from eight to ten, Lunch at noon, sometimes alone, sometimes with Bael sitting at the opposite end in silence.

More training in the afternoon... speech, posture, how to smile without looking like I’m dying inside. Dinner varies. Sometimes alone in my room, sometimes in the dining room with Grandmother, who uses the meal as another opportunity to correct my every movement.

It’s suffocating, but at least it’s predictable.

Bael has tried talking to me.

Little things. "How are you feeling?" "Is the food okay?" "Did you sleep alright?"

I ignore him every time.

After three days, he seems to be getting the message. His attempts have become less frequent, the silence at meals has settled into something expected.

He’s understanding, finally, that I want nothing to do with him.

Which makes it all the more confusing that he’s currently pinning me against the wall in his home office, face inches from mine, expression dark with barely controlled anger.

How the hell did I get here?

***

Five minutes ago.

Lunch had just ended. I stood to leave, body aching from this morning’s session where Grandmother made me practice walking up and down the parlor for two hours straight because I "shuffle like a servant."

"Li Runze."

Bael’s voice cut through the silence.

Not *Runze*. My full name, sharp with fraying patience.

I kept walking toward the door. Whatever he wanted, I didn’t care.

"We’re living in the same house," he continued, voice tight. "We’re getting married in two months. Do you really think you can avoid me forever?"

I stopped at the doorway but didn’t turn around.

"I don’t care," I said flatly. "I’ll keep ignoring you for however long I can."

The sound of his palm slamming against the table made me flinch.

"Li Runze!"

I turned despite myself.

He was standing, both hands braced on the table, and something in his expression had shifted. The usual calm control was cracking.

Good, let him be frustrated for once.

"What do you w—"

He crossed the space between us in three strides, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me down the hallway.

I tried to pull free but his grip was iron. "Let go..."

"No."

He hauled me into his home office and locked the door with a decisive click.

Then pushed me back against the wall.

***

Now.

His hands are braced on either side of my head, caging me in. I can smell his cologne, sharp and expensive, and I can see the muscle jumping in his jaw.

And I realize with a jolt: he’s angry.

Actually, genuinely angry.

Not the cold, controlled businessman, not the calculated heir to the Wuchen fortune.

Just... angry.

At me.

The realization sends a thrill through me that I don’t want to examine.

"Why the hell are you trying to avoid me?" His voice is low, dangerous. "Are you angry at me? Do you really not know why I did that? Do you think we had another choice?"

Each question hits like an accusation.

My hands curl into fists against the wall. "I understand perfectly!"

"Do you?" He leans closer and I can feel the heat of him. "Would you have preferred I married your sister after knowing you’re carrying my child? Don’t you think it’s better now than if I married your precious sister knowing I can’t even ever fuck her?"

The crudeness of it makes something twist in my chest. He’s right...logically, rationally, he’s completely right.

But there’s something about his calm, controlled expression even while saying it that makes me want to scream. Like my sister’s broken heart is just collateral damage in his perfect solution.

"You got pregnant," he continues, each word deliberate. "We both made it so I had to take responsibility, no? Isn’t it better to come clean early than to get caught later?"

He’s right.

Damn him, he’s right.

But that doesn’t touch the anger burning in my chest.

"So what?" I snap, shoving at his chest. He doesn’t budge. "You want me to thank you? Is that it?"

"I want you to stop acting like a child."

"Then stop treating me like a problem you solved!" The words tear out of me. "Did you have to tell them I seduced you? Did you forget the engagement party bathroom? The heat at your estate? Why didn’t you mention that you made the first move?"

Something flickers in his expression.

"So that’s why you’ve been giving me attitude," he says slowly. A smirk curves his mouth. "You’re upset I didn’t take equal blame."

Heat floods my cheeks and I hate that he can see it, hate that my body betrays me like this. "I’m not..."

He catches my chin, tilting my face up, his eyes drop to my mouth.

Then he kisses me.

Hard, aggressive, claiming. His tongue pushes past my lips and I taste anger and frustration and something darker.

My body responds before my brain catches up, heat pooling low in my belly even as fury burns in my chest.

I hate him.

I hate that he’s right.

I hate that I still want him.

He pulls back just enough to speak against my lips.

"Don’t you dare avoid me again."

Something inside me snaps.

My hand moves before I can think, pure instinct, pure rage.

The slap cracks across his face.

Hard.

The sound echoes in the quiet office.

My palm stings. His head turns with the force of it, a red mark already blooming on his cheek.

For a second, neither of us moves.

Oh god.

What did I just do?

I just slapped Bael Wuchen. CEO. My future husband. The father of the baby I’m carrying.

My survival instincts are clearly broken.

Bael turns his head slowly back to face me.

His expression is... I can’t read it. Shock? Fury? Something darker?

"...Why?" His voice is dangerously soft.

I should apologize, grovel, and beg forgiveness.

Instead, I meet his eyes and say exactly what I’m thinking.

"I don’t know. I just felt like slapping you."

His eyes go dark.

"Heh." A laugh, low and without humor. "You’ve certainly grown more than just attitudes now, huh? You’ve learned how to slap your husband-to-be."

The menace in his voice trips every alarm in my head.

I turn and lunge for the door.