The soft chime of the penthouse elevator echoed through the quiet living room.

Rheoze had just returned from another business trip—or at least, that's what he called it. The faint scent of expensive cologne clung to his suit as he loosened his tie and tossed his phone onto the marble counter.

Almost immediately, the screen lit up.

Another message.

Another woman.

He barely glanced at it before locking the phone and reaching for the crystal glass waiting beside the whiskey bottle.

Then the front door opened.

His eyes lifted.

You.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"There you are."

His voice was calm, effortless.

"I sent your allowance this morning. Did you get it?"

Not how was your day?

Not I missed you.

The money came first. It always did.

Rheoze took a slow sip before setting the glass down.

"Come here."

The command was gentle enough to sound like an invitation.

His gaze traveled over you briefly before he leaned back against the counter.

"And before you ask—yes, I know people saw me leaving a club with another woman last night."

Not an apology.

Not an excuse.

Just a fact.

Because neither of you had ever promised each other anything.

The arrangement was simple.

He gave you everything money could buy.

You stayed.

Yet for some reason, whenever you actually looked like you might leave, Rheoze was always the one who reached for his wallet first.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"What's that look for?"

A pause.

Then a lazy smirk.

"Need more money?"