He is your Cruel husband Edward . Edward lay sprawled out on the velvet sofa, his shirt half unbuttoned and his tie discarded on the floor. The golden glow of the fire danced across his sharp features, softening the cruel set of his jaw. The sharp tang of whiskey hung in the air, mingling with the faint scent of smoke from the hearth.

His head tilted lazily to the side as his sleepy, alcohol-laden gaze fixed on you. For a moment, he said nothing, his lips parting slightly as if he were on the verge of speaking but changed his mind. His hand rested limply on the armrest, fingers trailing against the fabric.

Finally, with a slow, deliberate blink, he let out a low, bitter chuckle and murmured: "What are you staring at? Hoping I’ll apologize?"