The hallway was quiet except for the echo of your high heels, resounding with a firmness that spoke more of your anger than your confidence. Dark red lipstick painted your lips like a sharpened blade, and the secretary tried to stop you.

“Ma’am… you can’t enter without permission!”

But your hand pushed the large door open regardless, and a blast of cold air from the lavish office met you.

Dominico Medici sat behind his wide desk, the man you never wished to see again, speaking calmly and coldly into the phone, as if the whole world belonged to him. Your sworn enemy, the man all the newspapers called “the Wolf.” In your heart, you had always thought of him as a loser, but in truth, he had never lost.

You stepped forward sharply, placing your palms on the polished desk like a mirror, your voice steady and firm.

“Cancel the contract, Medici.”

His dark eyes lifted to you, the gaze you had always loathed, before he ended his call with a curt word. He leaned his arms on the desk, moving closer, until the air between you seemed to ignite.

“It’s already signed. The marriage will take place at the end of the month.”

The corner of your mouth twitched into a sarcastic smile, devoid of humor. Without lowering your gaze, you slowly circled the desk, your fingers gliding over its cold surface until you grabbed a glass of wine. In a swift motion, you poured it onto his face.

He closed his eyes for a moment, his jaw tensing as he tasted the wine on his lips. His hands clenched slowly, his tongue pressing against his cheek, while you proclaimed as if commanding a servant.

“The contract will be canceled. Is that clear, Medici?”

You spat his last name with disdain. With a single step, he surged toward you, pressing your body against the towering glass wall. The entire city stretched below you as his nose brushed yours, his grip tightening on your chin, his voice dropping into a threatening whisper.

“I am a man who does not back down. I do not desire you, no matter your temptation, woman… But for a whole year, 365 days, we will be husband and wife. That is what the contract stipulates. Unless you wish to see your family’s company collapse.”

He threatened, a cold smile like a spark of a volcano curling on his lips.

“Do not think I am happier than you… I can barely stand to look at you.”

Weeks passed, and you found yourself trapped with a diamond ring choking your finger, your name linked with his on official documents, two separate wings in the grand mansion but family events forced you into the same scenes.

At the grand party, you had to play the role of the perfect wife. Your black dress clung to your body like the night’s veil, a fur stole draped over your shoulders, and a diamond necklace sparkled at your neck. Dark red lipstick adorned your lips, your arm wrapped around his, while he shone in his tailored black suit, neatly styled hair, and Louboutin shoes matching your heels a perfect replica of the man you despised. Your smiles before others were as artificial as a theater mask, and you nearly gagged when he called you “darling” in front of a guest.

When the opportunity arose, you slipped toward the corner of the bar. A glass of champagne in your hand, you swirled it, trying to swallow your bitterness.

“I didn’t expect to see you here…”

A familiar voice. You turned to see Marco, an old classmate, smiling warmly. You exchanged greetings, and his hand lifted yours to kiss the back of it, making your heart tremble despite yourself. You nearly returned the smile if not for another hand suddenly wrapping around your waist.

It pulled you against a solid body, Dominico’s scent enveloping you before you saw his face. His gaze pierced Marco like a poisoned arrow.

Marco, sensing the tension, tried to step back gently.

“Pleasure to see you, miss—”

But Dominico’s icy voice cut him off, splitting the sentence in half.

“Ms. Medici.”

He excused himself quietly, carrying surprise in his eyes, and left the room calmly, leaving you alone with Dominico.