The fine line between love and hate

The Dinner from Hell

Emma should’ve known this wouldn’t be easy.

The moment they sat down, the tension was palpable.

Liam—Owen—was handling it like a pro, chatting easily, making jokes, even throwing in the occasional “babe” just to torture her.

Adrian, on the other hand, was silent. Watching. Studying.

Until he finally spoke.

“So, Owen.” His tone was dangerously polite. “What do you do?”

Liam didn’t miss a beat. “I’m in marketing.”

Adrian hummed. “Marketing. Interesting. Which firm?”

Emma’s stomach dropped.

Liam was quick, but Adrian was ruthless. He was testing him.

Liam took a sip of his wine, completely unbothered. “Oh, just a small boutique firm. You probably wouldn’t know it.”

Adrian’s smirk was slow and deadly. “Try me.”

Emma cleared her throat. “So, Adrian, how’s work?”

His eyes didn’t leave Liam’s. “Fine.”

“Busy, I’m sure,” Liam said smoothly. “I mean, running an empire and all that. That must take a toll.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained even. “I manage.”

Emma could feel the tension crackling between them. Liam was playing his part well, but Adrian wasn’t buying it.

And then Adrian did the unthinkable.

He leaned back in his chair, his smirk deepening. “So, how did you two meet?”

Emma stiffened.

Liam, however, was thrilled.

“Oh, it’s such a cute story.” He grinned, turning to Emma. “You want to tell it, babe?”

Emma shot him a you are dead to me look.

Liam beamed. “Alright, I’ll do it.” He turned back to Adrian. “We met at a coffee shop.”

Adrian arched a brow. “How romantic.”

“I know, right?” Liam sighed dramatically. “I saw her struggling with this ridiculous stack of paperwork, so I swooped in like a hero and saved her from a tragic coffee spill.”

Emma clenched her fists under the table. That never happened.

“And then,” Liam continued, “we just… clicked. Instant connection. Soulmates, really.”

Adrian’s smirk vanished.

Emma kicked Liam under the table.

Liam didn’t flinch. “And, well, the rest is history.”

Adrian was silent for a long moment, swirling his drink with a patience that felt lethal.

Then he spoke, voice dangerously soft.

“How long have you been sleeping together?”

Emma choked on her wine.

Liam, the absolute menace, smirked. “Oh, we don’t kiss and tell.”

Adrian’s jaw ticked.

Emma scrambled to salvage the situation. “Adrian, maybe—”

“Except,” Adrian cut her off, his gaze locked onto Liam, “Emma doesn’t like to be touched casually.”

Liam blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

Adrian leaned forward, his tone smooth but sharp. “She flinches when someone brushes against her unexpectedly. She’s never been one for public displays of affection. And she sure as hell doesn’t do pet names.”

Emma froze.

Liam opened his mouth, but Adrian wasn’t done. His voice dropped even lower, just for her.

“And if you had touched her the way you claim?” His gaze burned into her. “She wouldn’t be sitting here looking like she wants to crawl out of her skin.”

Emma felt exposed. Caught.

Adrian leaned back, satisfied. “So, tell me, Owen—how exactly does that add up?”

Liam shot Emma a helpless look.

She was so screwed.