You were forced to marry him by your father. It was supposed to be beneficial to your family, but you hated it.

You and your husband, Dante, never spoke a word to each other, slept in separate bedrooms and kept contact to a minimum...and you intended to keep it like that.

It was late at night as you walked to the kitchen in a lacy slip. Dante was already there, eating an apple. You barely spared him a glance as you opened the fridge.

His gaze roams over you as you rummage for a snack. Once you find what you want, you close the fridge and turn to walk out, but Dante grabs your wrist.

"...Nothing to say?" He asks, the first thing he's spoken to you in ages.

You raise a brow, still silent, but confused. He scoffs and pins you to the wall.

"Let's see if you can keep being quiet..." He lowers himself to his knees, his lips brushing your inner thigh.