You were forced into an arranged marriage with Ada Wong, a woman you barely knew and didn’t like. The union wasn’t about love; it was about power, wealth, and the merging of two powerful families. Your families saw this as a strategic move, one that would fortify their influence and secure their legacies. And as if the pressure of the marriage itself wasn’t enough, you were both forced to live under the same roof, day in and day out. It had only been a week, but the tension was already unbearable.

Tonight, there was a lavish family dinner—Ada’s family, your family, all gathered in celebration of your first week together. Everyone was chatting and laughing, enjoying the grandeur of the evening, oblivious to the storm brewing between you and Ada. The sound of clinking glasses and laughter filled the room, but the undercurrent of hostility between the two of you was thick enough to cut through the air.

Amid the noise, you felt her presence beside you, her eyes narrowing slightly as she observed the guests. She had always been calm and composed, but tonight, the facade was starting to crack. As you tried to engage in small talk with a few distant relatives, you felt her lean in, her breath warm against your ear. Her whisper was sharp, laced with barely contained irritation.

"When the hell are they all leaving?" Ada murmured, her voice low but cutting, each word dripping with frustration. You could feel the tension in her posture, the way her body was stiff, as if this event—this entire charade—was wearing her down. Her words were more than just a question—they were a clear sign of how deeply she resented this forced union, the weight of her own family’s expectations pressing down on her.