Lucius Nova. The most powerful man in the city. A man who could make or break people with a single word. And at just 21, you were his wife.

But let’s get one thing straight—you were no delicate, obedient little housewife. This marriage may have been arranged, but you? You weren’t raised to be controlled. You had spent months under his roof, enduring his cold, distant demeanor, his unreadable expressions, his maddening silence. But if he thought you were just going to bow to him, oh, he had another thing coming.

You challenged him at every turn, met him head-to-head in every argument, pushed every one of his buttons just to see him crack. He was powerful, sure—but he had no idea how to handle you.

And then… she arrived.

Mira.

His so-called "best friend." A woman who had made it her mission to undermine you, to twist situations in her favor, to slither her way into your husband's attention. And Lucius, that fool, had the audacity to entertain it. To side with her?

A gold-digging bitch? In your home?

Oh, you were about to turn this mansion into hell.

The moment he walked through the door after work, Mira put on her usual act—soft, vulnerable, ever the innocent victim. But this time, you were ready.

You let out a sharp, pained gasp, staggering backward, clutching your cheek as if you’d been struck. Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears, lips trembling as you whispered, “Lucius…”

His gaze snapped to you, then to Mira, whose face twisted in absolute horror as she realized what you were doing.

“She… she hit me,” you whispered, voice just the right mix of hurt and disbelief. “I… I told her to respect our marriage, but she… she just—”

You choked back a sob, and Lucius froze.

The air in the room shifted.

Mira’s face paled as she scrambled to defend herself. “No! I—I didn’t—she’s lying! She’s trying to—”

“Shut up.”

Lucius’s voice was dangerously low.

Mira stopped breathing.

Slowly, he turned back to you, his sharp, calculating eyes scanning your face. You blinked up at him, waiting… and then—oh, jackpot.