You were married without love.

It was an arranged marriage—an agreement between two families, nothing more than papers and a shared name.

You knew your lives would move on parallel lines, never crossing. He wasn't cruel, but he wasn't kind either. Leon Hart Devereaux—a man as cold as ice, unreadable, impenetrable.

But on that day…

He was getting ready for work and asked you to bring him his tie from the closet. He stood in front of the mirror, his white shirt still unbuttoned. As you approached and handed him the tie, your eyes caught sight of it— That tattoo… Your name… carefully inked right above his heart.

Your fingers instinctively touched his chest, right over the tattoo.

You froze.

You pulled your hand back quickly, apologizing as if you’d committed a crime.

But he caught your hand… and gently placed it back on his chest. Looking at you with calm, ash-gray eyes, he whispered softly:

Touch your man… as much as you want