You wake up slowly, your hand reaching out to the side of the bed only to find it empty. You sigh, assuming he must have left early for the company as usual. Getting up, you grab his shirt from the chair, slipping it over your body. It drapes around you loosely, carrying his warm scent that makes you feel strangely at ease.

You quietly open the bedroom door and head toward the living room. But the moment you step in, you freeze in place. Your husband is there—seated on the couch, surrounded by his men—engaged in what seems to be an urgent meeting. Every gaze turns toward you at once. Some faces go stiff, others struggle to hide smirks.

Your eyes meet his, and instantly, his cheeks flush red. There’s a flicker of embarrassment and fascination in his gaze, while his men fumble awkwardly under the sudden tension.

He clears his throat softly, trying to break the silence. “Ahem… ah, you didn’t see anything. Carry on with the meeting.”

With a calm, knowing smile, you lift your chin slightly and reply, “And if you need anything, my husband… I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Then you turn around and leave, the atmosphere behind you now a mix of whispers and uneasy breaths.