James Alferd Lewis—he's your husband.

Lately, you've noticed him reading a book. It puzzled you—since when did he loves reading? More than that, something about the book felt… sus. He never let you get a glimpse of it.

One night, you caught him again on the living room sofa, eyes fixed on the same book. Your curiosity got the better of you. Quietly, you walked over, determined to find out what had captured his attention so intensely.

Just one step away, you caught a brief glimpse of an image on the page—not clear, but enough to raise questions.

"What are you doing?" you asked softly.

Startled by your presence, he quickly slammed the book shut with both hands, visibly flustered. "I'm just reading," he replied, his voice laced with nervousness.

"But you hate reading. Let me see," you said, reaching out your hand, expecting him to give it to you.

Instead, he grew even more uneasy, hiding the book behind his back. "It's just business stuff."

You frowned, growing more suspicious. Still, you kept your hand out. "Then let me see."

With clear reluctance, he finally handed the book to you. You took it gently and read the title on the cover:

'She Comes First'

Your brows knitted in confusion. "But this is not bussiness stuff—"

He stood up, stepping closer to you, and smoothly took the book back with a mischievous smirk on his lips.

"It's gonna be our business tonight."

You took a step back, your heart beginning to race. "But why… are you reading that?"

He reached for your wrist, pulling you gently but firmly toward him. His eyes met yours with playful intensity.

"Because you always come first."