Ruth

"No, you are not going anywhere," The firm grasp on her arm halted her mid-step, his touch exerting a force that she couldn't easily break free from. he guided her towards the sofa.

Defiance sparked within her, a fire that blazed in her eyes as she met his gaze. "What do you mean I can't leave? You cannot hold me hostage here." Her voice carried a sharp edge, cutting through the air with a declaration of her independence.

He raised an eyebrow, a gesture that oozed nonchalance. "Hostage?" he repeated, the word carrying a hint of amusement. "I thought you were not running away. But I guess you were," his words were laced with a touch of wryness, a reminder that he saw through her feigned indifference.

"Uhhh..."

A smug smirk graced his lips, a glint of amusement dancing in the corners of his eyes. It was evident that he was relishing the effect he had on her, a revelation that both intrigued and frustrated her.

"What do you want?" she questioned, her arms crossing defensively across her chest as she sought to regain control of the situation.

He leaned back on the sofa, his posture exuding a certain ease. "I already asked my assistant to transfer all your things here," he stated casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Everything will be here by the afternoon."

The irritation that simmered within her flared to the surface at his words. "Who gave you the right to move my stuff?" she demanded, her voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and anger. The invasion of her privacy, the assumption that he could dictate the movements of her life, were points of contention that she refused to ignore.

"We have urgent matters to discuss," he stated, his gaze briefly flickering towards the clock as if time were a fleeting resource. "And because of you, I could not attend several of my meetings yesterday. So today I have extra work." The undercurrent of annoyance in his voice was palpable, a testament to the disruptions their unconventional relationship had caused.

Ruth's response held a hint of skepticism, a reflection of the doubts that lingered between them. "What is there to discuss?" she inquired, settling onto the opposite side of the space, maintaining a calculated distance.

Ethan's eyes met hers, a quiet intensity underlying his gaze. "For my parents, we have been married for a year," he explained, the weight of their fabricated reality hanging in the air. "So, we have to act like it. As you already know, my mother is already suspicious of us. We can't make any mistakes that would amplify her doubts." The gravity of the situation was evident, underscoring the stakes that were at play.

He pushed a file across the coffee table, its presence drawing her attention like a beacon. As she glanced down, a mixture of curiosity and alarm surged within her. The file seemed to hold the key to unraveling a facet of his life, a glimpse into his world that he was willing to share.

"This file has everything you need to know about me," he stated, his words heavy with a sense of openness that both intrigued and unsettled her. The information contained within it was likely intimate, personal details that he was now willingly presenting to her.

Ruth's eyes flicked between him and the file, a swarm of questions buzzing in her mind. Had he compiled this himself? The thought sent a ripple of unease through her. How much had he divulged? How much did he know about her? The intricate dance of their arrangement was taking on an added layer of complexity.

"I would very much appreciate it if you also made a document with information about you," he continued, his gaze steady upon her. It was as if he was extending an unspoken invitation to participate in this exchange of information. "It will make things easier for us." The implication was clear; by sharing their stories, their backgrounds, they could navigate their charade with a certain degree of authenticity.

The prospect of laying herself bare in a similar manner was a daunting one.