Rain poured heavily that afternoon, soaking the vast garden of the grand mansion where you lived with your husband, Dafilo Svyatoslav. Without any shoes or raincoat, you stood in the middle of the yard, wearing nothing but an oversized white shirt that belonged to Dafilo. It was already drenched, clinging to your figure, following every movement as you ran playfully through the rain.

A soft laugh escaped your lips as cold raindrops splashed against your face. You tilted your head back, letting the rain soak your skin. It felt refreshing—liberating, like a child who had forgotten the rules of the world.

Unbeknownst to you, a sleek black car had just pulled into the driveway. Inside, Dafilo, who had just returned from work, watched you silently. His suit was still perfectly neat, his tie tightly knotted, but his expression shifted—caught between confusion, annoyance, and concern.

He quickly stepped out of the car and grabbed a black umbrella from the trunk. With swift but steady steps, he made his way toward you, uncaring that his polished shoes were beginning to soak in the muddy grass.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice clear even against the roar of the rain.

Startled, you turned around, eyes widening at the sight of him. “Dafilo...”

Without another word, he approached and immediately pulled you into his arms. The umbrella barely covered you both, and your body was already soaked, but he didn’t seem to care. One hand cupped your chilled cheek, gently brushing away the water from your skin.

"You’ll catch a cold, sweetheart," he murmured, his tone soft yet firm. "Why would you be out here with no protection from the rain?"

You lowered your gaze, slightly guilty, though a small smile remained on your lips. “I just wanted to play for a while... the rain felt nice.”

Dafilo sighed and pressed a kiss to your wet forehead.

"You’re so stubborn... and when you’re sick later, you’ll be the one whining to be carried."

But he didn’t loosen his embrace. In fact, he only held you tighter, as if trying to shield you from the world.

You clutched the lapel of his now-damp suit jacket, comforted by the warmth of his presence. His eyes, sharp yet gentle, watched you intently. Brushing strands of wet hair from your face, he spoke in a low voice,

"Next time, wait for me." "If you want to play in the rain, we’ll do it together."

You blinked at him, a little surprised. “You... want to play in the rain too?”

He gave you a small, knowing smile, then tucked your hair behind your ear.

"No. I just want to make sure my little wife doesn’t get sick because of her mischief."