Claimed By The Ruthless CEO.

Chapter 11: Blame on the drinks.

“Happiness depends upon ourselves.” -Aristotle

“Theodore.” Emily voiced, a hint of shock in her voice. The last thing she remembered was lashing out on Amelia and dozing off in Theodore's car. He couldn't have carried her all the way in here, right?

Theodore’s cold gaze shattered for a split second, a look of shock evident on his expression, but in less than a second, he regained his usual calmness, “you fell asleep and I brought you in here.”

If someone else had said it, then her cheeks might have heated up, but this person was the cold, emotionless statue she got married to. Emily pursed her lips and turned to the other side, “Thanks. You can leave now.”

Theodore stared at her for a few seconds before returning back to the living room. His mind flashed back to how Emily stood up for him, and a smile slowly appeared on his lips.

Compared to the forced, robotic smile that’s always plastered on his lips, this one seemed genuine and heartwarming. He strode towards his wine cellar and pulled out one of the most expensive wines there. His gaze landed on his butler, Alfred, who was carefully cleaning a flower vase. “Get me a glass of wine from the kitchen, Alfred.” Theodore ordered, taking a few steps towards his couch.

While he patiently waited for Alfred, he flipped through the pages of a magazine and crossed his legs, immersed in his reading.

Alfred placed the glass on a nearby stool and helped his master with the wine. “Here you go, Master Wills.” Alfred handed the glass of wine to Theodore who nodded slowly, mouthing a mere, “Hmm”

Theodore brought the wine to his lips, took a sip and gracefully placed it back on the stool. His reaction towards Emily's smile, her laughter and her anger surprised him. She brought so many emotions out of him in a single night, and hell, he doesn't think she should have such a right. Emily was his wife, his property, someone forced on him, and giving her such an opportunity to control him wasn't something he could accept.

Perhaps it was an effect of the drinks.

His personal phone buzzed in his pocket, and he wondered who could be calling him by this hour of the night. He stared at the screen for a while before a smirk slowly made its way to his lips, “Mother.” he voiced, a dull pain in his chest, “I know you didn't call to check on me. Why did you call this time?”

“There's a trip tomorrow. Your father wants you and your wife present.” Patricia's voice rang out, not the least warm or soft, “Everyone in the family would be there. It's important.”

Theodore leaned back in his chair and pursed his lips, “And if I don't?” he asked in a stone cold voice, “Do you think I'm interested in your family gatherings?” his voice turned colder by the minute, and even Alfred had to hold his breath.

“Your aunt wants you there.” Patricia whispered, “If you're not coming for your family, then come for her.” her voice wavered slightly, and Theodore let out a soft chuckle. His mother was only acting this way because wanted him there.

“I'm only coming because of her,” he explained before hanging up.

Theodore stared at the glass of wine a few meters away and felt the urge to smash it on the ground. He placed his phone back in his pocket and returned back into his room for the night.

A golden ray spread across the sky as the sky chased the dark clouds away. Emily's hair looked like a bird's nest, or more like a few creatures made her hair their dwelling place. She pressed her lips in a thin line and made her way towards the bathroom, but a soft knock on the door made her halt.

Theodore would never come to her room this early. The only person who would be there was Alfred, his butler. She stared at her face in the mirror—the small lines, her pale skin, her creased forehead, and her messed up hair. It wasn't that bad. Alfred wouldn't care about her appearance.

She opened up the door and peeped, but Theodore pushed the door open like he owned the whole place. An exasperated sigh escaped Emily's lips. She was so embarrassed that she badly wanted to find a place to hide. Emily doesn't look presentable at all, but then, who cares? Theodore doesn't care about her, but he was clearly invading her privacy.

“What are you doing here?” Emily spat, walking right after him. Theodore stared at the whole room and was slightly mesmerized by the change. The whole room was decorated with books, novels, and other girlish things he couldn't name.

Theodore picked one of the books and carefully flipped the pages. He read a particular line out, “f**k me till I'm out of breath?”

Emily's cheeks reddened, but she remained rooted on a spot. Reaching for the book would only make it worse. “Theodore, you're in my space, going through my…”

Theodore turned to look at her and pointed at the exact space, “You read smut?” he asked, a petrified look on his face. She looked all innocent and pure, but the sight of her reading smut seemed odd. “You read these kind of unholy books?” he blurted out, unable to accept the fact that Emily was really into “Smut.”

Emily snatched the book from his hands and returned it to its original position, “Leave my room, Theodore.” her voice was hard, unfriendly, “even if we're married, it doesn't mean you can barge in here like you own it.”

“But you're in my room. I own this place” Theodore said as a matter of fact, “I decide who goes out and who walks in” he strode towards her bed and took a seat. He crossed his legs and leaned his on the wall, “We're going for a trip. As couples. With my whole family.”

Emily pressed her lips in a thin line and carefully shook her head, “you can go alone. We were forced into this marriage. I can't pretend to like you when I don't.” she said as she walked towards the bathroom, and Theodore let out a soft chuckle, “Are you…refusing me?”

Emily raised a brow at his words, “Would you force me to attend a place I'm not welcomed?”

“You must think I'm someone you can have a plain conversation with.” Theodore's gaze turned cold, “Get ready in a few minutes and pack your bags. Don't keep me waiting.”

Emily clenched her hands into fists, about to refuse, but Theodore was already outside, walking down the stairs.