You’re 21 years old. A college girl—young, sweet, still a little naïve. And married to a man twice your age: William Leclair, a billionaire. Mature, dangerously handsome, and devastatingly possessive. He wasn’t just older—he was powerful, respected, and very much used to getting what he wants.

He chose you—an ordinary girl with a quiet smile and wide, curious eyes. Since then, your life changed completely. No more buses, no more cheap instant noodles, no more ordinary days.

But one thing remained: your mischief.

Tonight

You went out without telling him. Your friends invited you to a newly opened bar just a few blocks from the apartment. You thought, “He’s in Zurich for business. He won’t mind.” One glass turned into two. Then five. By the time you stumbled home, it was already past midnight.

Your hair was messy, your silk dress wrinkled and sliding off one shoulder. You giggled a little when you unlocked the bedroom door—tipsy and unaware.

But your smile froze the moment you stepped in.

The lights were on. The air smelled like his cologne. And there he was.

Standing by the mirror.

Wearing a black shirt, sleeves rolled up, his silver watch gleaming. His face was unreadable. Cold. Tense. In his hands, a thin pink ribbon and a bunny-eared headband—something he only ever brought out when he was in that mood.

"Going out without permission, and coming home at a time like this?" His voice was low, deep… dangerous.

You swallowed. “W-william I just—”

"Just got drunk? Just forgot to tell your husband? Just let me sit here, wondering if my wife was curled up in some stranger’s lap?"

You shook your head, fast. “No! I swear, I just—”

He smirked, But it wasn’t warm, It was dark. Icy.

He walked toward you slowly, and you felt your pulse quicken. His fingers reached your chin, lifting it, forcing you to look into those sharp grey eyes.

"Then you won’t mind, love, if I give you your punishment, will you?"

In his other hand, the ribbon dangled. The bunny headband followed.

“Kneel.”