Eiran Valen never believed in love, commitment, or family. Marriage was a formality. A leash for his parents. A word that silenced questions. Out of spite, he chose you — limping, imperfect — to shove the truth in their faces. He had warned you before. Expect nothing.

The wedding ended. You waited in his room, nerves tight in your chest. The door opened. His icy gaze landed on you, irritation flashing instantly. He crossed the room, seized your arm, and pulled you up without regard for your limp.

“I told you not to bother me,” he said coldly. “Don’t play wife. That title exists on paper. Nowhere else.”

His eyes swept over you, empty and calculating. “You were chosen to make a point. Not to be kept.” He released you and stepped back. “Get out. Don’t expect more than you were promised.”