The Marriage of Two Strangers

That night, after the grand celebration, Leo and Quinn arrived at their new home—a sprawling modern estate gifted to them by both families as a wedding present. The house was an architectural marvel, with expansive glass walls, luxurious furnishings, and an air of elegance that matched the opulence of their union.

As they stepped inside, the silence was almost deafening. The warmth and joy of the wedding faded into the cool, detached atmosphere of the house. Quinn slipped off her heels and took in her surroundings, trying to steady her thoughts.

"This is it," she murmured to herself.

Leo, still in his tuxedo, glanced at her briefly. "The staff has everything set up. Your room is on the east wing," he said coolly, his tone devoid of emotion.

Quinn blinked, surprised. "My room?"

Leo nodded, already loosening his tie. "I'll be in the west wing. If there's anything you need, let the staff know." Without another word, he retreated to his study, the heavy door closing behind him.

Finally, unable to ignore the discomfort in her chest, Quinn stood and made her way to his study. She knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in," came Leo's clipped voice. 

Quinn pushed the door open to find him seated behind his desk, a glass of whiskey in one hand and his phone in the other. He didn't look up as she entered. 

"Leo," she began cautiously, "is something wrong?" 

He glanced at her briefly, his hazel eyes cold. "What could be wrong, Quinn? We're married, aren't we?" 

His tone was sharp, and it caught her off guard. "Why are you acting like this?" she asked, her voice laced with confusion and frustration. 

Leo set his glass down with deliberate care and finally met her gaze. His smirk was humorless. "Why am I acting like this? Shouldn't you already know the answer?" 

Quinn's brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?" 

He stood abruptly, his imposing figure towering over her. "Don't play innocent with me, Quinn. Didn't you want this marriage? Isn't this exactly what you wanted?" 

Quinn took a step back, stunned by the bitterness in his voice. "What? Of course, I agreed to this marriage, but only because I thought we were on the same page—because you said we could make it work." 

Leo's laugh was sharp and devoid of humor. "Make it work? Spare me. Do you think I'm not aware of your little games? Talking to my parents, convincing them this marriage was a good idea so you could worm your way into Langston Group?" 

Her jaw dropped. "What? That's not true! I never—" 

"Save it," he snapped, cutting her off. "I know exactly what this is. You wanted an alliance, Quinn. Fine. You have it. Enjoy your marriage." 

Quinn's chest tightened as she stared at him, disbelief and hurt swirling in her eyes. "Leo… I thought you said you loved me." 

Leo smirked, his expression cruel. "Loved you? You actually believed that?" He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a cold whisper. "I don't love you, Quinn. And I never will. Do you honestly think I could love someone like you? Keep dreaming." 

The words hit her like a slap, leaving her breathless. She blinked rapidly, fighting back tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break. 

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice trembling but steady. "What did I ever do to deserve this from you?" 

Leo didn't answer immediately. For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—hesitation, perhaps—but it vanished as quickly as it came. 

"Don't act like a victim, Quinn," he said coldly. "You wanted this. Now you have it." 

Without another word, he turned and walked past her, leaving her standing alone in the study, her heart heavy with a pain she hadn't anticipated. 

Quinn retreated to her room, her mind racing. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the ornate decoration. His words replayed in her head, each one cutting deeper than the last. 

How could he think I wanted this for selfish reasons? How could he accuse me of manipulating his parents?

She clenched her fists, frustration mingling with hurt. The man who had stood beside her during their wedding, who had played the role of a caring fiancé, now felt like a stranger. 

In his room, Leo stood by the window, staring out at the darkened garden. His jaw tightened as he replayed the conversation in his head. 

*Why did I say those things?* 

Deep down, he knew his anger stemmed from something more complicated than he cared to admit. Quinn's presence unsettled him in ways he didn't understand, and it was easier to lash out than confront the confusing feelings she stirred within him. 

He downed the rest of his whiskey and set the glass down with a heavy sigh. 

The next morning, Quinn woke early and decided to explore the house. She found herself in the kitchen, where the staff greeted her warmly.

"Good morning, Mrs. Langston," one of the chefs said cheerfully.

Quinn smiled faintly. "Just call me Quinn, please."

As she made herself a cup of tea, she heard footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw Leo, dressed in a crisp white shirt and dark trousers. His expression was unreadable as their eyes met but he didn't talk to her and left,

The days that followed were filled with tension. Quinn and Leo barely spoke, their interactions limited to polite exchanges when necessary. The staff in the house noticed the distance between them but said nothing, going about their duties quietly. 

Quinn threw herself into her work, finding solace in the familiarity of her business. Michael noticed her strained demeanor during a meeting and asked, "Quinn, are you okay?" 

She forced a smile. "I'm fine, Michael. Just a lot on my plate right now." 

But she wasn't fine. She was far from it.