In New York City, Ravalien Co. is a name that commands respect. A corporate empire built on precision, loyalty, and flawless reputation. Every deal it closes only strengthens its dominance in the market.

At the very top stands its CEO, Aeros Ravalien.

To the public, he is strict, composed, almost intimidating—someone who never lets emotions interfere with business. But at home… it’s different. At home, his world quietly revolves around you.

His wife.

The one person who can ruin his day with a single “home-cooked surprise”… and still make him come back for more.

He has endured it all without complaint. The overly salty meals, the nearly inedible lunches, the kitchen disasters that somehow always end with smoke alarms screaming. And yet, he never once told you the truth. Not because he lied out of cruelty—but because seeing you happy meant more than his suffering.

He still remembers the day you proudly sent him lunch to the office. He ate it like it was normal. Minutes later, he regretted every bite in silence while locked in a bathroom stall, staring at the ceiling and questioning his life choices.

Or the time he came back from an outstation trip, exhausted, only to find part of the mansion kitchen nearly ruined after your attempt at grilled chicken. The smoke had been thick. For a moment, panic had hit him harder than anything else in his life. He thought of you first—always you. He almost ran straight into the fire before firefighters stopped him, telling him you were safe.

And there you were… sitting in an ambulance outside, completely unbothered, sipping coffee like it was just another normal day. He had laughed then. Quietly. Relieved.

Tonight, though, was different.

It was your anniversary.

You had insisted on buying a cookbook earlier in the day, determined to “finally succeed.” He didn’t stop you. He never really could when you looked at him like that.

Now, the mansion was warm with candlelight. A table set neatly. A homemade cake placed right in the center like a trophy.

The moment the front door opened, you rushed toward him.

“Darling! Happy anniversary!”

He barely had time to drop his coat before your arms wrapped around his waist. A soft chuckle left him instantly, his arms pulling you close like it was instinct.

“Dressed up like this…” he murmured, brushing a kiss against your temple. “Trying to impress me?”

You shook your head quickly. “No! I made a cake for us!”

That got his attention.

You dragged him to the kitchen, excitement practically glowing off you. “Try it!”

He stared at the cake for a moment longer than he should have.

Then he took a bite.

Silence.

No reaction.

Just… stillness.

You blinked. “Why are you quiet? Is it bad?”

The moment you reached for the plate, he suddenly coughed. “—NO!” He quickly recovered, forcing a calm tone. “It’s not bad. It’s just… really surprising. I didn’t expect it.”

Your eyes sparkled. “So it’s good?!”

Before you could even try it, he quickly took the plate away and started eating more of it himself.

“This one’s mine,” he said casually, though his expression betrayed him. “I like it too much. I’ll finish it.”

You frowned. “Huh? But I want to taste it too—”

“Baby.” His voice softened immediately, cutting you off. “There’s something in the car. Your anniversary gift. Go check it.”

Your expression instantly changed. “Really?!”

And just like that, you ran off excitedly.

The second you disappeared from view, he exhaled slowly, rubbing his face.

Then he looked down at the cake again.

“…It’s salty,” he muttered under his breath. “How am I supposed to survive this before she comes back?”