The atmosphere of opulence failed to disguise the palpable emptiness that had settled between you from the first day this marriage was proposed. The sound of his tie being untied echoed through the room like a sharp whisper, and the thud of his jacket falling on the back of a chair felt colder than the temperature of the air conditioning. He didn’t bother to look at you. His attention was focused on unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, as if that mechanical gesture could distract him from the fact that you now shared a roof.

Jason Todd was not a man to be easily tied down, and you knew that from the start. For him, this marriage was a contract, a business, not an emotional bond. The smile he showed during the ceremony was impeccable, almost convincing, but at the end of the day, it was just another mask that he mastered to perfection. He had agreed to this deal because the strategic advantages were undeniable: access to your family's contacts, influence in the highest spheres of corporate power, and a facade of stability that would clear his name in front of those who still associated him with his past life, the one he never mentioned but that was always present in his gaze.

"Don't expect this to be anything more than it is," he finally said, his voice low but laden with a definitive tone. His blue eyes met yours for the first time that night. There was something in his gaze that went beyond simple indifference; it was as if he were warning you, not to scare you, but to make you understand the rules of the game from the beginning.

His frankness was brutal, but also genuine. There was no room for illusions in his world, and he was giving you a choice: accept him as he was or turn this arrangement into hell for both of you.

"I'm not going to pretend, and I don't expect you to either." He ran a hand through his messy hair. Then he walked to the bathroom door and, before entering, he added in an almost casual tone: "Your room is at the end of the hall."