Chapter 61 No appetite
Before Michael could get a word in, George plopped down like he owned the place. His vibe was clear as day—whether Michael liked it or not, he was joining them for lunch.
Michael shrugged, and Emma didn't have much say in the matter. Only Anna made a show of shaking his arm.
"George, isn't this kinda rude? Emma doesn't seem too thrilled."
Emma felt a flash of anger. 'When did I ever say that?' she thought, locking eyes with George, feeling a mix of tension and calm.
"She doesn't get a say," George shot back, his tone dripping with disdain, like Emma wasn't even worth his time.
Anna was secretly pleased to see Emma getting the short end of the stick, but she still didn't want to eat with her.
Then again, having lunch together meant she could rub her relationship in Emma's face. That was a win.
But no way was she letting George sit next to Emma. She dropped her bag and aimed for the seat next to Emma. Just as she was about to sit, George beat her to it.
Anna's face darkened with anger, but George's presence kept her in check, so she had to settle for the seat next to them.
George and Emma were practically touching, making Emma feel all sorts of awkward. But what really got to her was that every dish George ordered was Anna's favorite.
Emma and Anna had totally different tastes, and just looking at the food killed Emma's appetite.
Even though she told herself not to care, her heart always took a hit.
Out of nowhere, George shoved a dish full of chili peppers in front of Emma and grinned, "I got this just for you. Give it a try."
Emma was about to lose it.
Wasn't it enough that he almost killed her last time with spicy food? Did George really want her dead?
Seeing Emma not eating, George's grin got even wider, "Don't you like tacos, especially the spicy ones?"
George had once seen her eating tacos with Ethan, and he still remembered it vividly. It was his go-to weapon to hurt her.
Anna, knowing Emma's health issues, chimed in, "Emma, George got this just for you. You should eat up."
"I can't eat," Emma shot back at Anna, "I lose my appetite sitting with a homewrecker."
Anna's face went red, and George froze. Emma knew George was about to say something nasty.
Emma had had enough. She decided to bail and cut George off, "Thanks, but I'm done."
She looked at Michael across the table, "Mr. Russell, I'm heading back to the office. Thanks for lunch."
"No problem. It's just a meal," Michael's smile was gentle, a stark contrast to George's embarrassed look.
Emma stood up and adjusted her clothes. She wanted out. Unfortunately, she was by the window, and the aisle was on George's side.
She shot George a look and said coldly, "Mr. Russell, could you move?"
George stayed put, eyes glued to the table, acting like he didn't hear her. Emma felt a surge of anger but kept her cool.
This was the kind of drama Anna lived for—George making things hard for Emma.
"George Russell, I said, please move," she repeated, her voice laced with anger.
"Are you talking to me?" George finally looked up, a smirk playing on his lips. "I thought you were talking to that Mr. Russell."
Emma's face flushed with a mix of shame and anger. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her cool, and asked again, "George, please let me through."
This time, George stood up, still smirking. "Since you're so eager to leave, I'll walk you out."
Anna, seeing this, grabbed George's hand in a panic. "George, didn't you promise to go shopping with me? How can you just leave?"
"You can wait here," George said dismissively, not even glancing at her. He walked over to Emma. "Let's go."
Emma felt uneasy but, seeing George's intense gaze, she nodded and followed him out of the restaurant.
They walked side by side, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife.
George broke the silence, his voice low and cold. "Don't let me see you getting too close to Michael again."
"We're just friends," Emma said calmly, but George wasn't buying it.
"Friends? Do you think he sees you as just a friend?" George's voice was sharp, his eyes like daggers.
"Why not?" Emma blinked innocently at him, her voice sweet. "Why can you hug other women in public, but I can't even have a meal with a man?"
George's face darkened, anger flaring in his eyes. He stepped closer, his voice a low growl. "Is this how you want my attention? By playing the helpless victim to seduce Michael?"
Emma laughed bitterly. "If that's what you think, then so be it."
"Emma!" George's rage was palpable, his eyes burning with intensity. Just when Emma thought he was going to lash out, George suddenly leaned in and kissed her fiercely.
The kiss was hot and overwhelming, leaving Emma stunned. She tried to push him away but was trapped in his arms.
"You are mine. Don't even think about getting close to other men," George warned, his voice dripping with possessiveness.
The air was electric. George's lips left hers, and he bit her neck, leaving a red mark.
"What are you doing?" she pushed him away, trying to hide her turmoil.
George remained unfazed, a smug smile on his face. "Didn't you always want to be my woman? Now that I'm your husband, what's wrong with me kissing you? This is my mark, and no one can cover it." He pulled off her scarf, revealing the mark on her neck, as if declaring his ownership.
"You're too much!" Emma was furious, struggling to break free, but George's grip was like iron.
"I don't want to see you covering this with a scarf again," George said, his voice commanding, as if telling Emma her body was his property.
Emma felt a wave of helplessness, struggling to escape his embrace, but George's arms were unyielding.
"I need to go to the office!" Emma struggled. "Go be with your dear Anna. She's still waiting for you."
George didn't let go, instead pulling her closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Do you really want to push me to another woman? Is this how you show your love?"
Her heart raced, feeling both angry and helpless. 'What does George really want?' she thought.
Just as she finally broke free and tried to escape, she turned to see Michael standing at the restaurant door, staring straight at them.
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