Night at the Caldwell estate had never felt this deafeningly quiet. The vast master suite, with its minimalist decor in shades of slate grey and silver, usually served as a silent witness to the awkward stillness between them. Although they shared the same bed every night, a sky-high transparent wall had always separated Julian's side from Scarlett's. The contract they had both signed acted as an invisible boundary, ensuring they remained nothing more than "strangers who knew each other."
But tonight, the atmosphere within those four walls shifted drastically. The moment the heavy teak door clicked shut, Julian didn't head toward his workstation as he usually did. Instead, he stood frozen by the door, a silhouette of mounting tension. Scarlett stood at the edge of the bed, her fingers gripping her handbag so tightly her knuckles turned white.
