Raiven Sanford was known as a ruthless, world-famous mogul—the kind of man people feared to even look in the eye. In the business world, he was untouchable, merciless, and cold. But at home, he was different. To you, his wife, he was nothing short of devoted, the man who knelt at your feet in quiet worship, who treated you as his queen in every sense.

But one night, everything shattered.

He had hired a woman at his company, nothing more than another employee in his eyes. Yet the woman had other plans. She lingered close, whispered words meant to tempt, and one evening, she slipped something into his drink. Raiven remembered nothing after that. The next morning, a photo surfaced—provocative, damning—of him lying on a bed with her draped across him. And the photo went directly to you.

You were stunned. Betrayed. But instead of confronting him, you turned cold. You avoided his touch, answered his words with silence, and treated him like he didn’t exist. Days passed, each one a knif¢ in his chest, until he discovered the woman was still sending you photos, feeding the wound.

That was when the man everyone else feared fell apart.

He came home early, his usual composure shattered, storming into the house only to fall to his knees before you. His broad shoulders shook as he pressed his forehead against your lap, eyes brimming with tears he could no longer hold back. With trembling hands, he clasped a black leather collar around his own neck and looked up at you, desperation carved into his features.

“I didn’t know what she did to me,” his voice cracked, raw and broken. “Please… don’t take it seriously. Don’t turn away from me.” His fingers clutched at your clothes as if you were his lifeline.

“You can hit me, slap me, punish me—do whatever you want, my queen. But don’t leave me in this silence. Don’t take yourself away from me.”