Andrew’s head pounded with the remnants of last night’s drunken haze, and he rubbed his temples in an attempt to chase away the persistent ache. His surroundings were foreign to him, and for a moment, he was confused, wondering where he was. As his vision cleared, the reality of where he had slept hit him—Eva’s bedroom.

"What the hell?" Andrew muttered to himself, flashes of the previous night slowly returning to him. He winced as he recalled his drunken behavior, especially toward Eva. Guilt began to creep in, but before he could dwell on it for too long, he noticed something else: Eva wasn’t there.

With a sense of urgency, he stumbled out of the room and made his way to his own quarters. There, lying fast asleep in his bed, was Eva, curled up peacefully under his blankets. For a brief moment, Andrew found himself staring at her—her gentle breathing, her soft features, and the way she looked so innocent, even after everything.

"Why is she here?" Andrew wondered to himself, confused by her presence in his bed.

As if sensing his gaze, Eva stirred and slowly opened her eyes. She blinked a few times, taking in her surroundings before her eyes landed on him. Her expression was unreadable, and without a word, she stood up, brushing past Andrew as though he didn’t exist.

The cold dismissal caught Andrew off guard. "Did she not see me?" he thought, baffled by her calm indifference. He quickly called after her, his voice gruff. "Eva!"

Eva paused but didn’t turn to face him. Instead, she stood still, her back rigid, as Andrew approached her. He was frustrated by her cold demeanor, irritated that she wasn’t reacting the way he expected.

"Why are you running away?" he asked, stepping closer, his voice tinged with annoyance. "Didn’t you tell me that you're my wife and I'm your husband? I have complete rights over you. Every part of you belongs to me."

He expected her to flinch, to shrink away like she had done before. But to his surprise, she didn’t. Instead, she lifted her head, turned slowly, and met his gaze with a cold intensity that he hadn’t seen in her before.

"So now you remember you're my husband?" Eva said, her voice steady, though laced with something new—contempt. "As you said, every part of us is each other's. Even your heart is mine, right, Mr. Andrew?"

Andrew felt a chill run down his spine at the way she scoffed, the way her words cut through the air like a blade.

"When you're thinking of another woman when you come to me," Eva continued, her tone unyielding, "why would I give myself to you?"

Her words hit Andrew like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected her—the timid, fragile woman who had cried in front of him—to challenge him so boldly. And the worst part was, she wasn’t wrong. His mind had been on Jessica, on his anger and betrayal. But for her to call him out on it, to confront him like this, made his blood boil.

"Stop your nonsense," Andrew snapped, his temper flaring. He took a step toward her, his jaw clenched, but Eva didn’t flinch.

Instead, she tilted her head and gave him a look that almost seemed... amused. "How about we play a game?" she suggested, her tone calm but daring.

Andrew narrowed his eyes, unsure of where she was going with this. "A game? I don't have time for childish games, Eva," he said dismissively, shaking his head.

But Eva wasn’t deterred. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, provoking him. "No time, or do you think you’ll lose?"

Andrew’s pride flared at the accusation. Lose? To her? He laughed mockingly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Lose? Me? That's impossible."

Eva’s eyes gleamed with a quiet confidence that only irritated him further. "Then it shouldn’t be a problem for you,"she said smoothly. "If you win, I’ll leave your life and never come back. But if I win..."

Andrew scoffed, rolling his eyes. "What could you possibly win from this?"

Eva didn’t back down. She met his gaze head-on, her voice unwavering. "If I win, you have to give this marriage a real chance. You have to try—really try—to see me as your wife."

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy with a challenge that Andrew wasn’t prepared for. He stared at her, his mind racing. Part of him wanted to laugh it off, to mock her for even suggesting such a thing. But another part of him was intrigued—maybe even a little curious. Could she actually win?

He smirked, his confidence returning. "Fine," he agreed, his voice low and filled with arrogance. "I'll play your little game. But when I win, don’t expect any sympathy. You'll be gone, just like you said."

Eva nodded, her expression unreadable. "Deal."

Andrew watched her closely as she turned and walked away, her posture calm and collected. He felt a strange unease settle in his chest as he stared after her. She was no longer the fragile woman he had thought her to be. There was something about her now—a quiet strength, a determination that he hadn’t noticed before.

And for the first time, Andrew wondered if he had underestimated her.

As Eva disappeared down the hallway, he clenched his fists. "This will be over before it even begins," he muttered to himself.

But deep down, there was a nagging doubt in the back of his mind—a doubt that whispered that perhaps... just perhaps... he wasn’t as in control of this game as he thought.

The game had begun, and only time would tell who would emerge victorious.