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Title: The Rain and the Sun
Genre: Romance
Chapters: 30
Main Characters:
Emily Carter – 21, poised, elegant, intelligent, secretly longing for freedom
Ryan Bennett – 24, cold, strategic, successful, with hidden warmth
Chapter 2: Ice and Fire
Emily didn't sleep that night. Her mind raced with a thousand scenarios—ways to get out of the engagement, ways to confront her father, ways to ruin the Matthews family without lifting a single manicured finger. But none of them felt real. None of them could undo the fact that by morning, the world would see her as Ryan Matthews' fiancée.
She sat at the breakfast table, untouched toast on her plate, as Sarah flipped through the morning paper beside her, acting like everything was normal.
Emily scoffed. "You're really going to pretend nothing happened last night?"
Sarah shrugged, sipping her coffee. "Pretending is easier than fighting them. You should try it sometime."
Emily was about to reply when the sound of tires crunching over gravel reached them from outside. Her spine straightened instinctively. She didn't have to look to know who it was.
Ryan had arrived.
Emily stood slowly, smoothing down the silk blouse her mother insisted she wear. She didn't dress for him. She dressed because she wanted to look in control, even if she felt anything but.
When she stepped into the sitting room, he was already there—leaning casually against the doorway, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth like he'd been born with it.
"Morning, princess," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Sleep well?"
Emily glared. "Why are you here?"
"To woo you, of course," he replied smoothly, stepping into the room like he owned it. "Didn't your father tell you? We're supposed to spend time together. Bond. Maybe hold hands by the fireplace."
She crossed her arms. "Try that and I'll set the fireplace on you."
Ryan chuckled, amused. "Feisty. I like that."
She wanted to slap him. Or throw something. Preferably something heavy and expensive. But instead, she sat on the farthest chair in the room and kept her eyes fixed on the window.
Ryan followed and plopped onto the couch across from her, stretching his arms over the back. "So. What's your plan? Marry me and make my life miserable? Or call the engagement off and let both our families implode?"
"Tempting," she muttered.
"Look," he said, his tone shifting slightly, "I'm not thrilled about this either. You're not exactly my type."
Emily's head snapped around. "Excuse me?"
"You're too uptight. Too polished. The kind of girl who has a schedule for crying."
"And you're too arrogant. Too loud. The kind of guy who kisses his reflection goodnight."
They stared at each other, the room filling with tension so thick it could've snapped in half.
But then, Ryan shrugged. "At least we agree on something."
Emily blinked. "That we hate each other?"
"No," he said, standing. "That this whole thing is a disaster."
He walked toward the door but paused, glancing back at her. For a moment, something shifted in his expression—like he wasn't entirely sure whether to smirk or say something real.
Instead, he said, "We're stuck with each other. But if we have to pretend, let's at least do it well."
Then he left, the scent of his cologne lingering in the room, frustratingly expensive and annoyingly intoxicating.
Emily sank into her chair, her hands shaking slightly. She didn't know what infuriated her more—the fact that he was right… or the fact that he was already under her skin..