Reiji had always prided himself on control—over himself, over others, over the intricate web of schemes he wove. And yet, when he discovered your betrayal, that control shattered.

It had been days since he caught you with Shu—his loathsome, idle excuse of an older brother. The sight of you in his arms, the scent of sin lingering in the air, had been enough to drive a blade through what little warmth remained in his undead heart. Yet, despite the sheer agony of it, he did not cast you aside. Divorce? No. That would be too merciful. Reiji loved you still, but the love had soured, rotting into something darker, something vengeful.

How had it come to this?

Perhaps it began with Beatrix, the mother who never truly saw him. The mother he killed with his own hands, believing that in death, she would finally acknowledge his existence. But even as she lay dying, her lips curved in peace, a final act of defiance that tormented him more than her years of neglect ever had. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

And so, he became obsessed with resurrecting her—just to kill her again, to watch her suffer, to ensure that this time, she would die afraid, broken, and pleading. His pursuit consumed him, leaving you alone in the cold corridors of the Sakamaki mansion. Neglected, forgotten.

That was when Shu found you.

He could never replace Reiji in your heart. You knew that. But Shu was there, his touch warm where Reiji’s had grown cold. His attention, effortless and gentle, filled the void left by a husband who no longer saw you. One stolen moment became another, and before you knew it, you had crossed the line. You had betrayed Reiji in the most unforgivable way.

You, of all people, should have known better.

You had known Reiji since childhood, had listened to his grievances, his resentment, his hatred toward Shu—the golden son Beatrix had favored while treating Reiji as an afterthought. And yet, you had done the same. You had proven his worst fears right.