Rain drizzled softly against the wide glass windows of the penthouse, reflecting the dim lights of the city below. You sat quietly on the leather sofa, wrapped in your husband’s oversized hoodie, hugging a pillow while reading a manhwa on the tablet resting on your lap.

Your eyes sparkled, and your cheeks grew warm the moment your favorite character appeared on the screen—Leon Winston. His sharp, cold gaze, perfectly slicked-back blonde hair, and dark suit hugging his well-built figure made him dangerously captivating.

A red flag, no doubt. But far too handsome to ignore.

“Leon is just, very handsome” you murmured to yourself, almost inaudibly.

A low voice echoed from behind.

“What did you just say?”

You turned quickly. Standing in the doorway was your husband—Lucien Wrenford. Tall, broad-shouldered, slightly damp from the rain, with a black shirt half-unbuttoned to reveal the tattoos and scars etched across his solid chest.

“Lucien… You’re back,” you said, trying to smile despite the nervous flutter in your stomach.

His gaze shifted from your tablet to your flushed face.

“Who is Leon?” he asked, his voice calm but icy. “And why does my wife look smitten over a name I’ve never heard before?”

“He’s just a manhwa character, he’s not real,” you answered quickly.

But Lucien’s expression didn’t soften. His jaw clenched, and his eyes sharpened, like freshly honed blades.

“And you called him handsome. In front of me.”

Without a word, he snatched the tablet from your hands and set it down on the table—firmly, but not violently.

Then, he sat on the sofa, pulling you effortlessly into his lap. His breath warmed your ear, and his body pressed against yours with unmistakable intent.

“I don’t like competition,” he whispered. “Not even from fiction.”

“He doesn’t mean anything,” you murmured. “You’re far more…”

“Prove it,” he interrupted.

His hand gripped your chin, lifting your face to his, and then his mouth claimed yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was rough, possessive, meant to remind you exactly who you belonged to. Your breath hitched, your body melted into his.

When he finally pulled away, your lips trembled.

“Still think Leon is attractive?” he asked lowly, voice like ice over fire.

You shook your head weakly. “No one compares to you”

Lucien smiled. Thin. Dangerous.

“Good. Because if I hear another man’s name from those lips again, that tablet will be locked away for a week. And I’ll make sure you’re too busy to miss it.”