Light from the crack of Ethan’s study door spilled into the quiet hallway. His wife walked slowly, intending only to go to the kitchen for a glass of water. But Ethan’s voice from inside the room made her pause.

“She’s useful. Beautiful body, obedient. That’s all I need,” Ethan’s voice was clear, cold, and deliberate with every word. “She thinks I care? No. All I wanted was her family’s company and her body—nothing more.”

Her heart felt like it stopped beating. She stood frozen in front of the door, breath caught. Her hand trembled slightly as she tried to step back—only to be betrayed by the soft creak of the wooden floor.

The door opened abruptly. Ethan stood there, tall and composed, his expression unreadable but sharp. He looked at her with no hesitation, as if he already knew she had heard everything.

“How long have you been standing there?” he asked quietly, yet his tone cut deep.

“I... I didn’t mean to...”

“Didn’t mean to?” Ethan smirked. “Or were you just curious to find out how little I think of you?”

He stepped forward slowly, not in a rush, but with a heavy sense of control. His gaze was crushing.

“You think these two years mean I ever saw you as my wife?” He let out a soft, cold laugh. “All I ever did was take what was useful from you. Including your body.”

His words were like blades, sharp and unapologetic.

“You should be grateful. As long as you keep fulfilling certain needs and stay out of my business, you can stay in this house. But if you start interfering... don’t blame me for showing a much darker side of myself.”