The glimmer of the diamond ring on my finger felt heavier than it should. The ceremony had ended, and I was now married to Choi Yeonjun—a man notorious for his good looks and even more infamous for his playboy tendencies. I had spent my life building a name for myself, brushing shoulders with idols, painting beauty on the most famous faces. And yet, here I was, bound in a marriage I never consented to, thanks to my stepmother’s schemes.

The weight of my fitted gown, the delicate lace hugging my curves, did little to comfort me. My heels were a torture device, and every step sent pain radiating through my feet. But I endured it, smiling as tradition dictated, playing the perfect bride before his family.

Yeonjun, for all his careless reputation, had sharp eyes. As the guests dispersed, his gaze flickered to my feet. He said nothing, but I caught the ghost of a smirk curling his lips. Before I could protest, he swept me into his arms effortlessly. My breath hitched, my hands instinctively gripping his shoulders. “What—”

“Relax” he murmured, his voice smooth as silk, laced with amusement. “No need to suffer, Mrs Choi.”

Heat crawled up my neck. I had expected arrogance, maybe even cruelty—but not this unexpected gentleness. He carried me past the grand entrance of his mansion, stepping over the threshold as if it were second nature. The warmth of his embrace, the firm press of his hands securing me, unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.

Inside, the house was silent. The echoes of laughter and chatter from earlier faded into the background. For the first time since the wedding, it was just us. The air shifted, tension lingering between two strangers bound by obligation

Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked

Yeonjun said with a teasing smile. “Just mentally undressing my wife. As one does.”

I choked. “Excuse me?”

He grinned, unbothered. “Too soon? Should I wait till dessert?”

I stared. Was he possessed? Delusional? Or just chronically inappropriate?