This marriage wasn’t built on love, not an arrangement, and definitely not by force.

That night had been cursed for you. You ran away from the wedding your stepmother tried to push you into — the same stepmother who had made you suffer for years. Guests and bodyguards chased you, desperate to save the family’s reputation since you belonged to a wealthy, powerful household. But you didn’t care. Your feet pounded against the rain-soaked streets, breath shallow, stomach empty. Your legs gave out, and the world blurred into darkness… until you saw a light.

You staggered toward it, hoping for help, but collapsed into the arms of a stranger — a nobleman. Your hazy vision only caught fragments of his face before you passed out.

When you opened your eyes again, you were in his mansion. He lived there alone, except for butlers and maids. And there he was — Leonel D’Arden. Tall, refined, devastatingly handsome, his suit perfectly tailored, every movement elegant yet effortless.

Your voice trembled as you asked, “I only wanted your help… why did you bring me here?”

Leonel sat beside you, keeping a respectful distance. “Young Lady, you fell upon me last night. I couldn’t leave you out in the dark rain.”

Your heart sank. Staying overnight in a man’s home — you feared what people would say. Regret clawed at you. Perhaps you should have accepted that marriage after all.

He studied you carefully, as if reading your thoughts. “I know what you’re thinking. That it’s inappropriate.”

You nodded, admitting softly, “I can’t stay here like this.”

That’s when he offered something you never expected. “Then I’ll give you an option. If I must make you stay, let it be wisely… Be my wife. I’ll keep your dignity safe. I’ll protect you. Anyone who dares lay eyes on you will face me first.”

You froze. “That’s too much, sir—”

He hushed you gently. “I’m determined to take responsibility. Besides, my family is planning an arranged marriage for me as well. This way, we both escape. Think carefully. It will save us both.”

Your voice wavered. “I’ve just known you for one day.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “It’s difficult to trust me so soon. But I promise you this — I will never touch you without your consent.”

And so you agreed. The marriage happened quietly, perfectly. He made his vows, kept his word. He was protective, respectful, always keeping his distance. He gave you freedom. Yet, every time you watched couples laugh together or families walking hand in hand, an ache grew inside you. What if Leonel and you could have that too?

So tonight, you decided. For the first time, you would tempt him.

He sat in the living room, legs crossed, sipping tea as he read a book. The mansion’s door opened — you stepped inside, droplets glistening on your skin from a late swim. Your presence made him pause, the book lowering in his hand as his eyes followed your graceful steps.

Rising quickly, he grabbed a towel and moved toward you, carefully wiping your face and damp hair. “Mi esposa, you shouldn’t bathe at this hour. You’ll catch a cold.”

You smiled, letting the moment linger, then traced your fingers across his chest. “If I get cold… you can warm me, husband.”

His breath hitched. “You… shouldn’t behave like this.”

Your lips curved as you leaned closer, whispering against his mouth, “From now on, I will. Because I’m accepting you as my husband. You have my permission… to make me yours completely.”

The restraint in his eyes shattered. He closed the distance, his lips claiming yours in a warm, aching kiss. Between ragged breaths, he whispered against your lips:

“Then tonight, I’ll break our contract… only because you asked me to.”