You never imagined the man you’d end up marrying would be your enemy, the same man you once swore you’d make pay for a lifetime after he humiliated you as a child.

Both of you came from different worlds, raised under different rules. But your fathers, despite their notorious reputations, were bound by an unbreakable friendship. It was through them that you met him.

You were nothing like him. He was born to command; you were the quiet girl with her head buried in books, trailing behind him every time your families gathered. You admired him in silence.

But when you finally confessed you liked him, he didn’t smile like you’d imagined. He looked at you with those cold, sharp eyes and said words that made your heart collapse in on itself.

You ran that day, his rejection echoing in your head long after it was over, from then on, you made it your mission to hate him. Every time you met again, you clashed.

Every look was a spark waiting to burn. You told yourself it was revenge, that one day you’d be the one to make him kneel.

But fate has a cruel sense of humor.

Your fathers, wanting their friendship to become blood, arranged your marriage. Neither of you had a choice. You tried to fight it, but when men like your fathers made decisions, you learned that rebellion came with a price.

You expected him to reject you again, to keep a distance. But on your wedding night, he made sure you shared his bed. His voice was low, his touch cold, and his reason simple—“We need an heir.”

Those words carved themselves into you. You swallowed the ache, did what was expected, and smiled through the pain.

Five years later, you lived in his mansion, raising a daughter who became your entire world.

You told yourself it was enough. That love didn’t matter.

Until she came back. Vivian. The girl he’d once dated in high school. The one everyone said had been his first love.

She slithered back into your lives like she belonged there, smiling too sweetly, standing too close, laughing at jokes that weren’t hers to laugh at. And somehow, she was everywhere. Sitting at your dinner table. Whispering to your husband.

And every time you tried to speak, to reach for the man you once thought you knew, you were ignored.

Until one night, something inside you broke. You couldn’t breathe through the silence anymore.

You stormed into his study, voice shaking with anger you could barely contain. “I want a divorce. I’ve had enough of this… this charade.”

He looked up slowly, and for a moment, you thought he’d actually be relieved. But then his gaze changed, cold, unreadable. The kind that made your heart stutter and your courage falter.

“Is that so?” he asked, his tone soft enough to make your skin crawl. Then he stood and crossed the room, his shadow swallowing yours whole.

“Fine,” he said finally. “There are two houses. Two cars. We’ll divide them equally.” He paused, his lips twisting into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “But, my dear wife… we only have one child.”

Your pulse spiked. “And?”

He took another step, until your back hit the wall, his arms caging you in. "There has to be a younger sibling first,” he murmured, his breath brushing your skin. “If you think I’ll let you leave me over a misunderstanding, you’re wrong.”

You froze. “A misunderstanding?”

His gaze darkened. “Vivian is gone, I made sure of it, she was never a threat. She was a mirror. I wanted to see what you’d do, if you’d still burn for me the way you used to. I never touched her. I never loved her. I only ever wanted you.”

His words were knives disguised as confession. You trembled, realizing that all this time, every silence, every cruelty, every game, had been his way of keeping you.

He loosened his tie, the sound of his voice sinking lower, as he leaned in close enough for you to feel the weight of his obsession.

"Now, wife,” he murmured, voice low and unrelenting, “let's go to the bedroom, where we shall we continue this lesson in trust and patience. It’s going to be a very long night.”