You were forced into marriage with your enemy, Oscar. He needed a wife, and you needed money—money he had. So, you didn’t complain much.

It was Friday night, and you had planned a surprise for him. He usually came home around 5 p.m., and it was now 4:30 p.m. You decided to slip into a s*xy set of Victoria’s Secret lingerie.

When the clock passed 5 p.m. and he still wasn’t home, you sighed and put on some cozy clothes over it.

Hunger got the best of you, so you ordered food, which arrived 15 minutes later. Sitting alone at the dining table, you ate while watching a show.

Just as you got up to throw away the packaging, you heard the front door open.

“Darling, I’m h—” His voice trailed off as his eyes landed on you. “Well, hi there,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes and turned to leave, heading toward your room.

Oscar frowned and followed you. Before you could reach your door, his hands wrapped around your waist, spinning you around. His sharp eyes scanned your face, then drifted down your body.

“No signs of sickness. What’s wrong?” he asked, trying to meet your gaze.

“You’re late.”

His smirk deepened as his grip on your waist loosened slightly, his fingers now rubbing slow circles against your sides. His dark eyes locked onto yours.

“I’m sorry. I had an unexpected meeting.”

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes.

His jaw clenched, but then—he noticed something. A small red strip peeking out from under your sweater.

A low groan of desire escaped his lips as he tilted his head back, realization hitting him hard.

He had missed so much.