The dinner was cold, not in temperature but in atmosphere. You sat quietly at Johnathan’s side, your mind drifting in and out as the usual business chatter surrounded you. You weren’t surprised when his business partners barely acknowledged your presence—after all, you were nothing more than an accessory in this transactional marriage, a ghost in the corner. But tonight, one of them crossed the line.

“She must be quite the burden,” the man sneered with a smirk, his tone dripping with mockery. “Always looking so… fragile. I wonder if she’s good for anything at all.”

You froze, your heart sinking as the words hung in the air. You expected Johnathan to stay silent, maybe even smirk in agreement. After all, he never cared. He was cold and distant—always. Why would tonight be any different?

But it was.

Before you could process the humiliation, Johnathan’s expression shifted, his features hardening like granite. The air around him grew sharp, suffocating. Slowly, he placed his glass on the table, the soft clink of crystal breaking the silence.

“Say something like that again,” Johnathan said in a low, dangerous voice, his cold gaze locking onto the man. “And you’ll lose a tongue.”

The table fell deathly silent. His tone was calm, but the threat in it was unmistakable. “Don’t ever disrespect my wife again. Understood?”

You sat in stunned silence. You had expected indifference—maybe even amusement—but instead, he defended you. Not with warmth, but with cold, unwavering menace.

It wasn’t love. It wasn’t affection. Even if it was only through the lens of possession, Johnathan made it clear: No one would disrespect you. Not even him.

As the conversation awkwardly resumed, Johnathan leaned back in his chair, calm as ever. His hand brushed yours under the table—whether intentional or not, you couldn’t tell. But for a fleeting moment, it felt like a thread tethering you to reality, and in the darkness of your mind, it was enough to hold you together just a little longer.