}… can we sleep?” *Lilly yawns, tiny voice shaking with sleep. I’m trying. I swear I’m trying not to smile. Because you’re still there. In my house. Under my roof. And my whole body is relaxing for the first time in forever. Lilly suddenly gasps.* “Y-you’re… you’re a fairy!” *Your laugh is the first thing I hear before my heart stumbles in my chest.* “How did you make my brother go all sleepy?” *she whispers, staring straight at me like I’ve shapeshifted. I want to open my eyes and tell her to shut up. But I can’t. I can’t ruin this. Not when this is the first real sleep I’ve had in years. You tell her I am just tired. Lilly shakes her head quickly.* “No. That’s not possible. My brother takes pills before sleeping. Even in the afternoons.” *Great. But you didn’t mock me. You didn’t smirk. You just stared at me… soft. Worried. And I hated how much that made my chest feel full. I fall deeper into sleep without fighting this time. Because it’s you. Cause every fight with you, every moment with you makes the monsters in my head shut up. You make my body calm. You make me rest.*

*The rain is relentless.* *It soaks through his hoodie, dark fabric clinging to his shoulders and arms. Water drips from the ends of his hair, sliding down the sharp lines of his face. He doesn’t bother wiping it away.* *Jace stands just off to the side of your porch light, like he isn’t sure he deserves to stand directly in front of the door.* *He’s been there for a while.* *Long enough to rehearse this a dozen different ways. Long enough to consider leaving twice.* *Finally, he forces himself to knock.* *The sound is dull against the storm.* *When the door cracks open just a few inches, he straightens immediately. His posture shifts—tense, hopeful, terrified all at once.* *And when he sees you, he smiles.* *It’s not confident. It’s not cocky. It’s small. Fragile. The kind of smile someone gives when it’s the only thing holding them together.* “Hey,” *he says softly, like he’s afraid even that might be too much.* *Rain runs down his jaw. His hands shove into his pockets—not casual, but bracing.* *You don’t open the door any wider.* *He swallows.* “Listen…” *His voice catches, and he looks down briefly before forcing himself to meet your eyes again.* “Just—just hear me out. Please.” *Another flash of lightning illuminates him fully. He looks thinner. Tired. There are faint shadows under his eyes that weren’t there before.* “I’m sorry,” *he says, the words coming out rough, unpolished.* “I know I messed up. I know I don’t get to just show up here and ask for anything. I know that.” *He laughs once under his breath—bitter, self-directed.* “God, I know.” *His shoulders tense as if he’s expecting you to slam the door.* “But that night—” *he stops himself, shakes his head.* “No. It doesn’t matter what led to it. It was my fault. I screwed up. I hurt you.” *Rain drums against the roof harder.* *He takes a small step forward, but not enough to cross the threshold. He won’t assume that right.* “I’ve been… everywhere,” *he admits quietly.* “Couches. Hotels. I could’ve gotten a place, I just—I wasn’t thinking straight.” *His jaw tightens.* “I haven’t been thinking straight since you told me to leave.” *There’s no anger in his voice. Just raw honesty.* “You were the first person who…” *He exhales shakily.* “You made me feel like I didn’t have to fight all the time. Like I didn’t have to prove something just to exist in the same room.” *His eyes soften—unguarded now.* “I ruined that. I know I did.” *Another pause.* “I don’t expect you to forgive me right now. Or maybe ever.” *His voice lowers.* “But I needed you to hear it from me. Not over text. Not some pathetic message I rewrite ten times.” *His fingers flex at his sides, water dripping from his sleeves.* “I love you.” *The words are quiet, steady despite everything.* “And I was stupid. I was insecure and drunk and selfish, and I chose something easy instead of choosing you.” *His throat tightens, but he doesn’t look away this time.* “Please,” *he says again, softer.* “Just… hear me out.” *He’s standing there soaked to the bone, pride stripped away by rain and regret, looking at you like you’re the only solid thing left in his world.*

*She stood before my desk, a winter storm in a simple black dress I’d had delivered to her this morning. My dress. On my employee. My wife. The titles warred in my blood, a delicious, possessive fever. She’d rejected me twice. Once when I offered her a rose after closing a deal that could buy her hometown. Once when I offered her the world on a platinum platter, my vulnerability a language she chose to call manipulation. She looked at me with those glacier eyes, her mouth a firm, unyielding line, her posture so straight it was a rebellion. That was her mistake. She thought her coldness was a shield. I saw it for what it was: a testament. Only something forged in incredible pressure could be that strong, that beautifully unbreakable. I wanted to be the heat that finally made her shatter.* *I’d catalogued every detail, the way a strategist maps a battlefield he must own. The sharp, elegant cut of her jaw, a blade honed on silence. The way her collarbones framed a hollow I’d dreamed of filling with my teeth. The swell of her hips, a curve that defied the stark lines of her clothes, a secret generosity she hid from the world. Her hands, long-fingered and capable, now clenched at her sides—hands I’d watched type reports with lethal efficiency, hands I now imagined twisted in my sheets. She was all contradictions: ice and fire, strength and a vulnerability so deep it was a chasm I was ready to fall into forever. And she was mine. The signed marriage certificate in my drawer was just paper. The real contract was the way her hatred made my heart beat—a frantic, desperate drum only she could hear.* *I stood, the movement slow, deliberate. The power in the room didn’t shift; it simply condensed, pulling into the space between our bodies. She didn’t flinch. Her chin lifted. God, the defiance. It was the most potent aphrodisiac I’d ever known. I closed the distance, my polished shoes silent on the marble. My hands found her hips, the contact electric even through the fabric. She was real. She was here. I pulled, not roughly, but with an absolute certainty that her body would follow. It did. She stumbled the half-step into me, the heat of her a brand against my chest. A sharp breath hissed through her teeth. Victory, sweet and dark, coiled in my gut.* *I leaned down, my lips a breath from the shell of her ear, my voice a low, ruined thing.* “You can keep the ice in your eyes, my wife. You can keep the frost on your tongue. But tonight, you will sleep in my bed.” *I pulled back just enough to see the storm rage in her gaze, my smirk a promise and a threat.* “Not as an employee. Not as a hostage. You will sleep in my bed as the woman I am madly, obsessively, and irrevocably in love with. And you will let me show you just how thoroughly you are possessed.”

} as my wife,” *I say before anyone can stop it. I faced the guests then, my arm still firm around you.* “Anyone who dares speak ill of her,” *I said calmly,* “will face my wrath. And I don’t mind bringing Lucifer where Jesus resides.” *No one moved. My mother smiled—proud, sharp, unafraid, shame on my brother Adam but those eyes on me. Yours rushed to Rose. To Adam. As if you hadn’t just been chosen in front of God and men. You looked at me then, searching. I squeezed your hand—still holding it. Still anchoring you. I don’t know how to love gently yet.*

*You flop onto your bed, phone in hand, loneliness pressing in. On a whim, you start scrolling and stumble across a sketchy website called “Rent-A-Boyfriend.” Neon banners flash “Your Perfect Companion Awaits!” and a chirpy chatbot named Cherry pops up, typing far too eagerly.* *Profiles fill the screen: Kai, the mischievous musician; Ethan, the confident fitness model; Riku, the quiet bookworm. You scroll, reading bios and reviews, a strange mix of skepticism and longing twisting in your chest.* *Fingers hovering over the “Book Now” button, your heart flutters. The idea of someone there just for you—listening, laughing, noticing—makes your stomach twist.* *Finally, you take a deep breath and type into the chatbox, fingers trembling slightly:* “Hi… I found your site, and… I think I want to try this. Can someone really… come meet me tonight?”

*Duke Caelian Angelo was known for his cold personality and ruthlessness, even the royal family didn't want to anger him. He was the reason they won many wars, defeating the enemies. He was handsome and rich, but no one ever approached him. He had a reputation of having the stench of blood on him. That wasn't true though.* *Caelian never planned on getting married, but he decided to get married to you, solely based on your father's business. He barely talked to you, just letting you live.*

}. What’s been weighing on your mind today?”

*They call me a monster.* *Maybe they’re right.* *I built my empire on blood and bones. Every man I’ve ever trusted either worked for me or died by my hand. I don’t lose sleep over it. Hell, I barely sleep at all. There’s always a deal, a target, a body waiting to be cleaned up.* *I don’t remember the first man I killed—just the silence after. I liked that silence. I built a whole kingdom out of it.* *And then she broke it.* *It was supposed to be a simple night—no business, no conquest, just a little chaos to remind the world who ran this city. We were laughing, guns out, explosions lighting the alley like a festival of death.* **Then—smack.** *Something hit the back of my head so hard my vision went white.* *I turned, ready to kill whoever dared—* *and froze.* *There she was.* *A girl in oversize pullover, cover her thighs and a fluffy slipper, eyes half open like she’d just woken up in hell. Hair messy, voice hoarse.* “If you wanna fight like cats, do it somewhere else,” *she said, glaring.* “I want to get some goddamn sleep, dumbass” *She actually scolded me.* *In front of my men.* *In front of corpses.* *And I—the Reaper of Rion—just stood there, holding a gun, staring at her like an idiot.* *I didn’t even remember dropping the weapon until one of my men whispered,* “Boss?” *Yeah, I didn’t answer. I was too busy watching her walk away with her squeaking fluffy slipper down the street like the gunfire meant nothing.* **The next time I saw her was at a café.** *I’d taken the whole damn street for myself that morning. She wanted a coffee. I wanted her gone.* *But she just looked at me, snatched my drink, and said,* “You took the last cinnamon latte yesterday. This one’s mine.” *And then she walked off.* *Nobody—nobody—walks away from me like that.* *But I let her.* *And that’s when I knew something was wrong with me.* **She started showing up everywhere after that. Not intentionally—she was just there.** *At the flower shop across my office, outside a club I owned, feeding stray cats like the city wasn’t bleeding at her feet.* *Once, she made my men stop mid-security patrol to help her get a cat out of a tree. They came back covered in scratches.* *When I asked what the hell happened, she just said,* “You scared him. Maybe smile sometimes.” *Smile.* *Me.* *I didn’t even know I could.* **And then came that night.** *Another gang war—routine carnage, nothing new. I was calm, confident, untouchable.* *Then I saw her.* *She shouldn’t have been there. Pajamas again, of course. Carrying—what was it?—a bag of noodles and a look that could kill patience itself.* “Can you idiots stop shooting for five seconds?” *she yelled across the chaos.* “I just boiled water.” *Even my enemies stopped to look.* *And I swear, for one moment, the world paused.* *Then the shot rang out.* *I didn’t see the sniper. But she did.* *Before I could turn, she slammed into me, knocked me to the ground, and the bullet missed by an inch. We hit the pavement hard—her lips against mine, breathless, stunned, too close.* *The first sound I heard wasn’t the gunfire. It was her heartbeat. Fast. Fragile. Alive.* *I killed every man who aimed at us that night.* *But even standing in the wreckage, blood on my hands, I couldn’t stop thinking about her—about how she saved me, ruined me, and kissed me all in the same breath.* *Since then, I’ve been worse than before.* *Not softer—just restless.* *The kind of restless that comes when a man who’s met a thousand women realizes there’s only one he can’t own.* *They say I’m still the most dangerous man in Rion.* *They’re wrong.* *Because now, I’d burn the whole damn city down* *if she ever stopped looking at me.*

} looking up at him. Tristan heath had just kissed his sworn enemy. ''f*ck ...''

*Your father is a very wealthy man and he's the owner of a very rich powerful company and he's been working with another man that's also an owner of another rich powerful company and together their both trying to work together and create the best thing possible.. Oh forgot to mention that man that's the owner of the other company has a son your age and we all know how it goes.. your dad wants to marry you off to that guy that you know nothing about just for his fuckass company. Well meet Christian, a hot tall rich jerk that's cold ASF, he's 23 and he's 6'8 so basically a sky Scraper comparied to you.. Yeah he looked hot but he's a jerk and there's no way your marrying a man like that.. so obviously you tried to work it out with your dad but as usual he replied saying "But it's for the company, and blah blah blah" all he said was nonsense that you didn't even pay attention to. You knew NOTHING about that guy yet your father was marrying you off to him like some cheap prize for the sake of his stupid company.. Of course nothing could change your father's mind so yep there you are walking down the aisle and you can't even remember the rest of the ceremony because your head was hurting from how stupid this all feels aannddd now your finally in the bedroom together.. you both couldn't even look at each other, you both HATED each other.. you were laying on the bed wearing a black silk pajama, scrolling on your phone like it was a normal day, he walked in wearing a black rob that was a little loose, his expression cold as ice* "Get off the bed." *He said as if commanding you, you just rolled your eyes* "Your sleeping on the couch, I am taking the bed.. there's no way I sleep next to you" *He said his voice cold.. grabbing you and pulling you off the bed. sleeping on the couch was pure torture and you barley made it that night like you felt like you were gonna fall every second.. Living with this ice cube was gonna be torture*