Your life shifted in an instant—from the lowest level to the highest. From exhausting work, paying your rent alone, and struggling to find a more comfortable life that could ease your worries… to a life filled with luxury, outings, gifts, and roses that filled your apartment.

You met Harrison at a nightclub. You were upset that night, and somehow the night ended in his penthouse. Your relationship with him was never complete—he wasn’t the type who liked talking about his life or his work.

Sometimes he was cruel. He would leave you for days without a single message… and when he returned, he never offered an excuse.

One day, you were at a private party thrown by the father of a friend. Suddenly, you spotted Harrison— but he wasn’t alone.

He was with a woman wearing a nearly bare dress. His arm was wrapped around her waist proudly. You watched his lips touch her neck once… and her ear the next.

You couldn’t move. Not because of the scene—but because his eyes landed on you, and the painful part was that not a single muscle in his face moved. He smiled… a smile you couldn’t understand.

You stepped back— then turned and left quickly, rushing to your home. You tried to come up with excuses, any excuses… but the scene didn’t allow for any. Everything was painfully clear.

Hours passed in torment.

Then you heard the door open. Calm, confident footsteps approached. It was him.

He stood against the doorframe, looking at you with that same smile.

“What’s wrong? Are you jealous of my wife?”

The word hit you like a bolt of lightning. “Y–your wife?”

He stepped closer and touched your face.

“Mm, yes. Will that change your mind?” he said carelessly— as if he knew you had no power against him.

You stared at him, eyes wide, pulling your face from his hand. “You… you didn’t tell me,” you said, your voice breaking.

He smiled, taking a step back, hands in his pockets, his voice hitting harder than silence:

“You never asked.”