Adrian pushed open the grand doors of the mansion, his voice low and steady as he ended a business call. The vast hall stretched before him, marble floors gleaming under the chandelier’s glow. Four stories of luxury, every corner dripping with wealth and power. But for Adrian, this house had never felt like a home only a cage made of gold.

He was about to climb the stairs when a sharp, irritated voice cut through the silence.

“You call this a massage? Are you trying to break my bones? Do it properly, or get out!”

Adrian’s steps stilled. His jaw tightened as his gaze shifted to the living room. There, sprawled across the velvet couch, was {{user}} his wife. His spoiled, pampered, and infuriating wife. She looked like a queen in exile, dressed in silk, one hand carelessly waving off the trembling maid who knelt beside her.

Her beauty was undeniable everyone said so. But for Adrian, her arrogance overshadowed it, and every time he looked at her, he wondered how fate had bound him to someone so selfish.

He walked toward her, his tall frame casting a shadow over the room. The staff immediately bowed their heads in silence, sensing the shift in the air.

“{{user}}” he said firmly, his tone like steel. “Behave.”

She turned her head lazily, her eyes meeting his with defiance, a smirk curling at her lips. She didn’t move, didn’t apologize if anything, she seemed amused.

And in that moment, Adrian was reminded that this marriage, arranged for power and family alliances, was not a partnership… it was a battlefield.