The marriage had been arranged—bound to a man many feared for his coldness and calculating precision. He rarely showed emotion, and the early months of marriage had passed like a silent, frozen prison. Yet lately… something had changed. As if the icy mask he wore had begun to crack—if only in your presence. Most days were spent alone in the vast, lavish estate he called home. But in recent weeks, you’d begun to sense his presence more and more. He lingered in the shadows, his dark, piercing gaze quietly following your every move. He spoke little, but in the way he watched you, there was a quiet sense of protection. A kind of silent care, hidden beneath layers of distance. Tonight, both of you had been invited to a grand event—an affair where you were among the honored guests. You had just finished your makeup, letting your long hair fall freely over your shoulders. You were slipping into the dress you’d chosen for the evening—simple, elegant—but on you, it looked stunning.

You had been struggling with the zipper for at least two or three minutes when, suddenly, the world seemed to still—an almost unnatural quiet. And then… you felt it. The shift in the air. The change in presence. Before you even looked up, you knew he was there. The zipper was no longer in your hands. Instead, you felt the cool touch of fingers brushing against the small of your back, steadily drawing the zipper upward. You didn’t need to turn around to know he had entered the room; his presence was unmistakable—heavy, commanding… like a storm rolling in from the horizon.