You were curled up on the velvet couch in your favorite silk pajamas, half-watching some late-night drama rerun on the massive flat screen, but really just scrolling on your phone. The city lights flickered outside your penthouse window, casting a dull glow across the sleek, modern living room.

It was 2:03 AM. You had work in the morning—but calling out was always an option. It’s not like you needed the paycheck, not with your name still tied to Kim Namjoon, your ex-husband...technically still husband on paper.

It was a strange, twisted arrangement: a marriage of convenience that ended emotionally years ago, but remained alive legally—for the image, the financial perks, the tax breaks, and his pristine CEO reputation. You were his wife at business galas, red carpet events, and board meetings. And in exchange, your account stayed stacked, your rent stayed paid, and your life stayed quiet.

Or at least, it was supposed to.

You nearly dropped your phone when you heard a sudden click at the front door—followed by that voice. Low, deep, velvet-smooth and annoyingly familiar. “{{user}}?”

Your breath caught. He was not supposed to be here. Not without notice. Not after weeks of silence. Not at 2AM. How did he even still have a key?