Despite the throbbing pain in her leg, Elizabeth gathered her strength and said, "Put me down." Elijah ignored her, his eyes scanning her bandaged leg, his brow furrowed slightly. "What happened to your leg? Is this some elaborate scheme to win me back?"

A bitter laugh escaped Elizabeth. He saw her as attention-seeking, believing she'd fabricated an injury to recapture his attention. With a blank expression, she lied, "It's a beauty treatment that shouldn't get wet."

"Why did you suddenly decide on such a treatment?" Elijah asked casually, carrying her outside, dropping the subject. His large frame enveloped her; through his thin shirt, she felt the warmth of his body and the firm outline of his chest muscles. The closeness created an awkward tension for Elizabeth, who had resolved to end their marriage. Her voice sharpened involuntarily. "Oh, since when have you cared about these little details, Mr. James?"

For the first time, he saw her biting sarcasm, finding it oddly amusing. With a calm demeanor, he responded, "You're my wife; it's only natural I'd care about your well-being."

"Really?" A somber edge crept into Elizabeth's voice. "It seems you've never truly seen me as your wife. I'm afraid if I died, you wouldn't even notice until much later." He had been lost in moments with his first love, too preoccupied to heed her pleas.

Taken aback by her accusation, Elijah's eyes widened before he let out a disbelieving laugh. "Elizabeth, what's with this sudden anger? Just because I missed your call this afternoon? Maybe I've been too lenient with you lately, and it's made you feel entitled?"

Elizabeth froze. Was he accusing her of entitlement? She realized their marriage had always been unbalanced. In his eyes, she was a business arrangement, a woman who'd traded freedom for financial stability. Their union had been a transaction, yet she had foolishly fallen in love with him. In the tricky world of romance, the one who fell first always lost.

Elijah's dismissive reaction left Elizabeth reeling, her emotions brushed aside as trivial, a suffocating knot tightening in her chest. "I said put me down, now!" she demanded, jerking her head, her voice sharp with impatience.

Elijah remained silent, effortlessly carrying her to the bed before releasing his hold. Elizabeth felt a sudden jolt as the support vanished, her heart skipping a beat as she instinctively reached for him. Their bodies collided on the bed, her bathrobe slipping dangerously.

Propped on one elbow, Elijah gazed down at her, a sly grin playing on his lips. "You wanted to be let go, didn't you? So why hold on to me now?" His dark eyes, glittering like a midnight lake speckled with stars, captivated her. In those depths, Elizabeth glimpsed her own reflection; at moments like this, she was tricked into thinking he cared. Sadly, his heart belonged to Sandra, and all Elizabeth had left were hollow dreams.

"Boring!" she exclaimed flatly, trying to move, her hand accidentally brushing against him. She felt a noticeable shift as his arousal pressed against her stomach. "Don't move, or I can't promise what might happen next," he warned in a low, gravelly tone.

Elizabeth silently cursed. It was undeniable: men were driven by primal instincts; a lack of affection didn't dampen their desires. Yet, she dared not provoke him. Turning her face away, her body remained stiff. Feeling irritated, she retorted, "Didn't you say there's nothing to see? What's with the reaction now, Mr. James? Are you really that easily impressed?"

Regret surged through Elizabeth as she realized the possible consequences of her sharp tongue. Instead of anger, Elijah chuckled. "You're my wife, after all. Since that can't be changed, I might as well accept it. Besides, it's been years since we became husband and wife—it would be a waste to ignore you completely."