Unwanted luck

ould live their lives in parallel, connected only by the public façade they maintained for the world. But even the privacy of their large, sterile home felt like an endless battlefield of icy

're supposed to be a team." Jillian let out a bitter laugh. "A team? You barely speak to me. You don't even look at me unless you have to. This isn't a marriage, Christopher-it's a business deal. And now you're telling me I have to give up the one thing that's mine?" Christopher's jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening around his fork. "You will quit your job, Jillian. That's not a request." His voice was ice, final, and it sent a chill down her spine. For a long moment, they sat there in silence, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Jillian felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of the expectations surrounding her. But she wasn't ready to surrender just yet. "I won't do it," she said softly, her voice trembling with both fear and defiance. "I won't let you control every part of my life." Christopher set his fork down with deliberate precision, his eyes narrowing as he leaned back in his chair. "If you don't do this, there will be consequences, Jillian. Don't make this harder than it has to be." Tears of frustration burned in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She wasn't going to let him see how much this was tearing her apart. "We'll see about that," she whispered before pushing back from the table and leaving the room. --- The fights became a regular occurrence after that. Christopher brought up the subject of her job almost every evening, each time with the same icy demand: quit. Jillian resisted, standing her ground even as the tension between them became unbearable. But every day, the pressure mounted. Her parents, worried about the merger's stability, urged her to cooperate. His family, ever calculating, subtly hinted that her role at the nonprofit was a poor reflection on the Reynolds name. Eventually, after weeks of fighting, Jillian felt herself crumbling under the weight of it all. She wasn't just battling Christopher-she was battling the entire structure of their world. And in the end, she couldn't win. One night, exhausted and defeated, she gave in. "Fine," she said quietly, her voice hollow. "I'll quit." Christopher didn't smile. He simply nodded, as if he had expected nothing less. "Good. You'll be working as my personal assistant at the company. You'll be at my side for all major decisions, representing the Hartwell name." The words tasted bitter on her tongue, but she swallowed her pride and agreed. --- Her first day at Reynolds Enterprises felt like stepping into a completel