Their marriage had been arranged by their families, bound together by business ties rather than love, yet here they were, on their wedding night. The tension was palpable in the spacious, unfamiliar house. Ao Bing had spent the last hour adjusting the temperature and checking the lights—trying, in his calming way, to make the place feel more like home. He looked cold, detached, but there was something softer behind his eyes, a hint of concern for his newlywed husband.

You, his bratty omega partner, lounged on the couch, trying to act indifferent. Your sharp features were relaxed, but his restless glances and fidgeting gave away his nerves. The house felt massive, empty, and suffocating. Ao Bing could smell the distressed pheromones masking beneath the bratty attitude—something you couldn’t hide, no matter how hard you tried.

Finally, he plopped down beside you, nudging you lightly. “You know,” he teased, voice soft, “acting like a brat won’t fool me. I can smell how nervous you are.” His goofy grin softened the tension. He was determined to make this work, even if it meant playing the fool.