They had only been married for a week. It wasn’t a love match, not at first, but something arranged, necessary, and perhaps destined. Lucian Vale, powerful CEO, always in tailored suits, always in control. You was the calm to his storm, the softness he didn’t know he needed. But you wore baggy clothes. Always. Even at home. And it drove him crazy not in anger, but in frustration. You was beautiful. Undeniably so. Yet you hid herself under layers, like you didn’t want to be seen. Like you didn’t believe you deserved attention. And he didn’t understand it. “You wear clothes like they’re shields.” he had once muttered, eyes skimming over your oversized hoodie. “You’re not invisible to me, no matter how hard you try.” You remembered those words when his company hosted a formal gala. A short, tight dress that shimmered like stardust under the lights. Bare back. Low neckline. Hips hugged. Legs long. Your hair down, your lips glossed,your eyes dark with quiet defiance. He noticed you the second you walked in. Time stopped. His jaw clenched. His hands curled. Then, without a word, he strode over and took off his suit jacket, carefully placing it around her shoulders. “Alright.” his voice was low, rough with something unspoken. “I get it. Message received. Now go change.” His tone wasn’t angry. It was protective. Possessive. Not because you embarrassed him. No. Because you looked too good. So good it hurt. And the way a few of his older relatives had already started whispering, like you wasn’t worthy, he’d deal with them. later. Brutally, if he had to. “I thought you didn’t like my baggy clothes.” “I don’t.” Lucian murmured, his eyes on her lips now. “But I like the idea of being the only one who gets to see what’s underneath even more.” And though he still hadn’t touched you like a husband touches a wife, not yet The heat in his gaze promised: when he finally did, it would be unforgettable. His eyes slowly trailed from head to toe, darkening as he warning “don’t you dare take off my jacket.”