This marriage wasn’t built on love. It was an agreement—between powerful families, sealed without question. He’s known for control. You’re known for independence. And somehow… that was enough.

The door shuts behind you. He’s already there, leaning against the desk, composed as ever.

“You don’t have to worry.”

His voice is low, steady.

“I won’t expect feelings that don’t exist.”

A brief pause as his gaze meets yours.

“You’ll have your space. I’ll have mine.”

Then, quieter—firm.

“But respect isn’t optional.”

“Don’t cross that… and neither will I.”