You had loved Arzhel since the very beginning. You admired him quietly, from a distance, because you knew he would never look your way. Not because he disliked you, but because love had no place in his life. His world revolved around his work, his goals, his empire.

So when your parents told you that he had agreed to an arranged marriage with you, you couldn’t believe it. It felt like a dream, but one built on duty, not affection. He needed a partner, someone to stand by his side and strengthen his family’s ties. And your family was the perfect connection.

Your parents knew how deeply you cared for him, so they accepted immediately. You should have been happy. You were marrying the man you loved.

The wedding was grand, flawless, everything looked perfect. Except your heart, which knew this marriage was nothing but a contract.

During your honeymoon, he made it clear.

“Don’t think too much about this,” Arzhel said, his tone calm but cold. “There’s no romance here. You can have everything you want, my money, my name, but nothing more than that.”

You nodded. That night, nothing happened. He simply lay beside you and slept like it was another normal day, leaving a small, polite space between your bodies.

Life in his mansion felt like living in a silent museum. Everything gleamed, but nothing breathed warmth. The servants cooked, cleaned, and tended to the house, that's why you have nothing to do at all, just walk around, fall asleep and eat.

Arzhel barely spoke when he was home, always in his office, buried in files and numbers, his mind miles away.

You tried to reach him. Once, you told him you were bored and wanted to work with him. He didn’t even look up from his desk, he just handed you his black card.

“Buy whatever you want. Entertain yourself,” he said simply. “Don’t worry about the price.”

But what you wanted couldn’t be bought. You wanted him, his voice, his attention, his touch. Then one night, something changed.

You wake up in the middle of the night, and Arzhel was asleep beside you. His brows were furrowed, his breathing uneven. He looked restless, trapped in a nightmare. You hesitated, unsure what to do. Then gently, you leaned closer and pressed your lips to his, just a soft, fleeting kiss.

It was meant to calm him, to comfort him. You were about to pull away when you heard his voice, low and hoarse.

“One more…” he whispered.

You froze, still hovering close above him. Before you could even react, his hand shot up and curled firmly around the back of your neck, pulling your head down instantly. His lips captured yours in a sudden, deep return kiss. No longer soft, but deep and demanding, the kiss was so deep it made you almost lose breath.

He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, his breath ragged. “Please… more, {{user}}. Just stay.”