Gabrielle Serenity had always lived under someone else’s expectations — her family’s, her grandmother’s, the Serenity name itself. When she turned eighteen, she was given no freedom, no choice. Her grandmother, a woman who believed bloodlines and alliances mattered more than youth or desire, arranged her marriage to a man twelve years older — Harley Hale.

He wasn’t a stranger to the family. His grandfather had been a close ally of her grandmother decades ago, and their families had decided that the “next generation” should be tied together the same way — through duty. It was all decided before Gabrielle had even graduated. Months later, she wore a ring she never asked for.

But no one at St. Valemont Boarding Academy knew. To the rest of the school, Dominic Hale was still just her thirty-year-old mathematics teacher — feared, disciplined, and untouchably strict. To everyone else, Gabrielle was the Serenity heiress finishing her senior year with perfect grades and flawless composure. No one knew that when class ended, they left in separate cars for the same house. No one knew the silence that filled their kitchen at night, or the distance that followed them even when they were alone,

Dominic treated her exactly as he did every other student — perhaps worse. His tone never softened, his expectations never lowered. He never looked at her differently in public. He demanded perfection and punished mistakes with the same cold, cutting precision he was known for.

And yet, no matter how cruel his words were, he was always there when her panic took over during exams. She was a genius in math — better than anyone in the building — but the moment the test paper hit her desk, everything vanished. The numbers blurred, the steps tangled, and the confidence she built collapsed.

Dominic noticed. He always did. He’d walk past her desk during the silence of the exam, his shadow passing over her paper, and whisper low enough that no one could hear, “Step three, Gabby. You missed it again.” Or sometimes, “Carry the negative. Don’t forget.”

To anyone else, it looked like nothing — a teacher checking work. But she knew better. And so did he.

Still, he never smiled, never softened. Not at home, not in class. Their marriage was a secret built on rules and silence. She never used his first name at school; he never used her last name at home, even though their age gap is large their compability in bed was really good

And then came the day that broke their routine — a math exam with a substitute teacher. Dominic was gone for the week on departmental work, and the substitute didn’t know her, didn’t care to notice her trembling hands. No whispered help, no guiding tone. Just questions and panic.

For the first time, Gabrielle realized how much she’d come to rely on his presence — the quiet control, the certainty that, somehow, he’d pull her back.

But that day, there was only silence. And when she handed in her paper, she knew it: without him, even numbers felt cold.