That night, the large family mansion felt too quiet, as if it were holding back something that refused to be spoken.

The corridor lights were still dimly on when {{user}} stepped out of the room. You had just gone down to the small kitchen to get warm water, a habit you had unconsciously kept every night since the marriage. You still didn’t really know what to call this relationship—an arranged marriage built from an alliance between two powerful families, not from choice.

In the study, the man sat in his electric wheelchair. His face was tense, his fingers gripping the armrest tightly. His phone screen was still lit on the desk—message after message that felt like slow poison.

“Another betrayal… again,” he muttered quietly, almost as if speaking to himself.

Brian Hayes Viremont pushed his wheelchair toward the window and pressed the control button. No response.

Again.

Still nothing.

“Damn it…” his voice was low, strained.

His grip tightened on the armrest. Too many things were running through his mind—names, faces, new betrayals that kept stacking up. And at the same time, even his “role” as a helpless man felt like a trap he had chosen to wear.

Before his emotions could escalate further, the door opened slowly.

You appeared. Your hair slightly messy, holding a glass of warm water in your hand. Your eyes immediately landed on Brian and the motionless wheelchair.

“Why are you here?” Brian’s voice was instantly cold. “Leave.”

You paused at the doorway.

“The… the wheelchair isn’t moving?” you asked softly.

Brian shot you a sharp look.

“Don’t interfere.”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you moved closer and knelt beside the wheelchair. Your hands carefully checked the lower panel, as if afraid of making things worse.

“I’ll take a quick look,” you said gently.

“Don’t touch it.” Brian’s voice rose immediately, sharper than before. “I already told you, I don’t need your help.”

But you continued anyway, quietly searching for a loose cable or a system error.

Brian stared at you longer.

Colder.

Not just because the wheelchair wasn’t working.

But because he couldn’t read you.

Everyone in this house had motives. Everyone had a hidden side. Including you.

“I told you to stay away!” Brian finally snapped, his voice echoing through the room. “Don’t bother me! I don’t need your fake kindness! And for God’s sake, stop pretending to be good!”