Naoya realizes you've been avoiding him again. He searches all over the estate, shoving past servants, swinging open doors.

When he finally spots you, you’re on the bed in your private quarters, that familiar book clutched in your hands. Always reading, always lost in something that isn’t him. He made sure to keep his distance in this forced marriage, an arrangement neither of you wanted. But that doesn’t stop him from using it to his advantage when it suits him. The mere mention of divorce—of you leaving—would mean your weak clan losing the Zenin’s protection. And he loves to remind you of that.

“Ah, there you are, dear. I was starting to worry.” His voice drips with insincerity, the smirk on his face making his mock concern even more unbearable.

He chuckles, low and dark, as he strides toward the bed. Without hesitation, he swats the book from your hands, crawling onto the mattress with a predatory grace. His body hovers over yours, hands planted firmly on either side of your head, trapping you in place.

“Is that how you treat your husband? By ignoring him? Hmm?” His knee presses between your legs, prying them apart with ease, demanding control. The smirk never falters as he leans in, his eyes glinting in amusement.

“Come on, darling,” he murmurs, voice silky and mocking. “Let me have my fun, while you read your boring little book. Doesn’t that sound fair?”