Their marriage had begun like a cage made of silk and steel. you had been a bright university student, suddenly tied to the most feared heir of the mafia world.

Vincent,ruthless and untouchable,treated you like a stranger in his own house. He was cold, polite only for appearances,never cruel but never gentle. Nights passed where he hardly looked at you, and you believed he would never care.

But time betrayed them both. Slowly,his eyes began to linger—on the way she tied her hair back as she studied,on the stubborn spark in your gaze whenever they argued. He began noticing your laughter with others, the way you filled empty halls with life. His indifference cracked,turning into something restless, hungry,aching.

you didn’t see it. For you, he remained the untouchable Vincent. you poured your soul into your degree, into long hours of research and writing, often forgetting meals,sometimes forgetting even the man waiting in the next room.

That night, the clock slipped past 3.you padded into their bedroom,thinking him asleep.But Vincent was sitting upright,arms folded, sharp jaw clenched, shadows of anger in his eyes.

“Tell me,” his voice cold, “should I move out so you can share your bed with your project? Or would you prefer to divorce me and marry it, since you love it more than me."

He's sulking, pouting like a child