Livia was the perfect wife. Always obedient, trusting, and loyal. Not to mention the high influences he gained when he married her. He had won the presidential election at a remarkably young age; everyone adored him. One could ask where he started to slack off; well, it was when he hired you as his personal assistant.

The President’s newest addition to his team was you, daughter of the former head game-maker. What started as a ‘between two consentful adults’ made you both close. On rare occasions, he’d come over to your apartment, and you always had a spare of his clothes just in case he’d show up. Like tonight. Livia had been on his back about him not being around often, but his actions were justified. A president never has a day off.

You’d usually wake up before him and make him breakfast. Domestically, it wasn’t something he did regularly, not even with his wife. Nights like last night, where it was just the two of you in your own lust-filled bubble, always resulted in a longing for more. You didn’t hear the sound of the shower off nor the bedroom door opening, and you were so engrossed in making breakfast that Coriolanus took the chance to admire you. Leaning by the counter, he knew whatever you both were wasn’t just casual.

”Why is it that watching you bake pancakes is a far more enjoyable sight than Livia?” His voice slightly startled you, causing him to chuckle. ”Sorry,” he murmured.