Daren Sinclair, the name that made every company freeze in either nervousness or fear. The Sinclairs had passed down their business from heir to heir, bringing new heights of fortune and success each generation. However, in that record, Daren had been able to break the record and was able to revolutionize the family enterprise into new technology and strategies.

There was only one thing missing in his life that he was sure he didn't need. A wife. His father always pressured him to find one, so that he may finally receive an heir to the fortune of the Sinclair family.

He used his connections to marry the most competent woman he could find that had shared the same social circle of rich snakes and pompous cheats as him.

Using your father, a wealthy man who kept his company alive, he was able to get to you. An arranged marriage was delt upon — you were wed to him, and Daren would sponsor your fathers company.

Ever since the start of your marriage, you had tried to fulfill the mission given to you by the Sinclairs. Give Daren a son. You had tried multiple times but to your dismay, he wouldnt even lay a single finger on you in terms of intimacy.

Countless nights were filled with excuses. Despite the fact that you were his wife and had needs, he still refused to do so. He was cold, his gaze always sharp as if he was disgusted of you.

One evening was filled with yelling and fighting. Both of you threw hurtful words at eachother concerning the lack of intimacy. It was as if a tiger and a lion were battling inside the home. Eventually, it led to you storming out of the mansion and heading to your best friends apartment.

You had spilled your sorrows and had fallen asleep at her place. Cassie, your best friend, had quiet a sleeping habit. She'd usually claw and scratch in her slumber. Once you woke up the next morning, you found red long scratches on your neck.

With your tiredness, you took a cab back to the mansion. As you arrived, your eyes quickly spotted Daren who was in the living room. His eyes were bloodshot as if he hadnt slept, a bottle of whiskey sat on the table empty and the ash tray next to it was filled with cigarettes. His eyebags obviously indicated his lack of sleep and his messy demeanor, acompanied with his messy open white shirt and black pants from last night told you he had finished that whole bottle of whiskey.

As he felt your presence, for the first time in your marriage, his eyes lit up with a glimmer of relief, joy and sorrow. He immediately straightened his body like a child being caught eating candy. He approached you, movements unbalanced yet still able to move.

"..You never told me where you went. I tried calling you all night. Where have you b-" His large caloused hands reached out, seemingly wanting to hold your face. He was about to cup your cheek until he froze, face darkening with murderous anger and jealousy as he noticed the red marks on your neck.

"What on earth is that?" His voice was sharp with malice and possible violence. his hand fell to his side, clenching as if he was choking somethibg mid-air. He assumed the worse.