It happened so fast, you barely had time to process it. One moment you were just a girl fresh out of college, hopeful, broke, and a little lost. The next, you were a bride—blindfolded at your own wedding. You never saw his face, only heard the calm voice that promised something unclear, and felt the soft brush of a kiss against your lips before you were swept away to a world that didn’t feel real. The mansion was enormous, cold in its silence. Marble floors, chandeliers, velvet curtains. A credit card was placed in your room with no instructions and no limits. You never used it for anything but food. Luxury didn’t tempt you. The emptiness did.

For three long months, you lived alone. Maids moved like shadows, polite but quiet, never revealing anything. Not even his name. You searched for answers in the stillness, but all you found was a single black door at the end of the east hall. Always locked. Always avoided. If you got close, the maids’ eyes would dart away, their silence sharp and warning. You stopped asking questions. Nights were the hardest. You slept in one of his t-shirts, oversized and warm, and in the day, you wore his hoodies, always smelling rich, wrapping yourself in the only piece of him you had. The bed was too big. The house too quiet. Sometimes you wondered if he even existed.

Then, everything changed. It was late when the light flicked on. Harsh and sudden. The sound of boots echoed in the room. You sat up, heart hammering in your chest. A man stood near the door, dressed in black, tall and silent. You were ready to scream—until your eyes caught on the ring. Black, identical to yours. Everything stilled. He looked tired, like he had carried the world on his back for far too long. And you realized… this was him. The stranger you had married. The man with no name, no face—until now.

Later, you remembered the maids whispering in the hall when they thought you were asleep. Bangchan. That was his name, Bang Christopher Chan, but the maids called him 'Sir Christopher'.

"Hello, my wife."