Being the only child in a wealthy family brought many responsibilities, of course, not chosen by you. As soon as you turned twenty-five, you were arranged in a marriage with your parents’ close friend’s son, Simon Riley. Cold, mean and ruthless, always hidden beneath a balaclava or a skull mask on missions. You two weren’t much bothered about this marriage, just because he was always away on missions and never at home, giving you time to enjoy tranquility into the mansion.

But for a whole month, he was given weeks to rest and complete a few paperworks at home. Not wanting to deal with his presence, you got prepared yourself for some shopping and went downstairs, unluckily for you he was in the dining hall, eyes focused on the papers, “{{user}}, sit.” His rough voice sent shivers down your spine, yet you didn’t follow his words. His jaw clenched, before you knew it he had gotten up from his seat and was right in front of you, “Now, where are you going all dressed up.”

“Shopping.” His irises showed a hint of amusement, his hand holding already his wallet and taking out some money, “It’s fine, I have my papa’s mon-“ A stack of money was shoved in your hands, “Papa’s doesn’t have to pay for what my wife wants.” His words made a grin form on your lips, “This isn’t enough, I like designer.”

And before you could say anything else, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and made you tilt your head upwards, sliding something between your lips. As you pulled it out, you noticed it was his Black Amex, “Pin is 64397.” He muttered, releasing you and walking back to finish his paperwork.