I Slept Beside a Stranger Called Husband

I Never Needed Chains

Ethan's POV

I was lost in my own thoughts, eyes closed, as I opened the window and threw my cigarette outside. The cold air hit my face, grounding me for a moment.

Her crying reached me—quiet, broken.

Those small, uneven sniffs.

I didn't understand why, but I enjoyed them.

Not the sound itself—

the fact that I caused it.

We arrived at our apartment. The whole time, I was quiet. Silence followed us like a shadow.

Throwing my jacket onto the sofa, I loosened my tie and sat down, one foot resting on the table. My head dropped back as my eyes closed again. The weight of the night pressed down on me, heavy but familiar.

"Please..."

I opened my eyes when I heard her voice.

"Please don't do anything to Emily."

Slowly, I looked at her figure standing

Small. Fragile.

"Oh, so you want me to do nothing to your so-called Emily?"

She nodded, her tears never stopping. They traced silent lines down her face, soaking into her skin like she was already disappearing.

I stood and started walking toward her.

"Talia,"

She stood frozen, shoulders trembling, tears clinging to her lashes like she was afraid even blinking would cost her something.

I stepped closer—slow, unhurried—until her back met the doorframe.

My fingers found her waist, not rough, not gentle. Certain. Like I already knew it belonged there. She flinched.

"Look at me."

She shook her head.

I tilted her chin up anyway, forcing her eyes to meet mine.

"You always look at me like I'm about to ruin you," I murmured. "But you never leave."

Her lips parted, a quiet, broken sound slipping out.

I kissed her.

Not hard. Not fast.

Slow. Pressing.

The kind of kiss that tells someone exactly how much control they've lost.

Her hands came up to my chest, pushing weakly, desperate but uncertain, like she didn't know if she wanted distance or grounding. Her body betrayed her before her mind could—breath uneven, chest rising too fast.

That resistance only tightened something inside me.

My hand slid higher, fingers curling slightly, holding her in place—just enough to remind her she wasn't free. Her lips trembled beneath mine. She tasted like fear, like familiarity, like something she hated needing.

I pulled back just enough to speak against her mouth.

"You're shaking, tell me why."

She didn't answer.

Her silence pleased me more than words ever could.

I rested my forehead against hers, letting her feel how close I was.

"You think I don't see it, the way your body reacts before your mind catches up."

Her breath stuttered.

"I own every part of you"

Then I stepped away.

Just like that.

She slid down the doorframe slowly, curling into herself, while I turned my back and walked away—leaving her breathless, confused, undone.

I didn't need to take more.

She was already mine in all the ways that mattered.

For a moment, something stirred—but before my mind could take place somewhere else, I made my leave.

⸻

After working for hours—

"Where to, sir?" Ben asked.

I lit a cigarette.

"To the Scott's manor, Ben. We've something to discuss."

When we arrived, I got off and leaned against my car, cigarette smoke curling around me as the gates slowly opened.

"Oh, Ethan, my so—"

"Cut the crap, Arthur. Call your butler, Petro."

"Don't you want to come in? Avanna made us some tea."

"Oh, is that so?" I smiled faintly. "My mother-in-law made me tea. So why waste it?"

I walked past him.

"Welcome Mr. Miller"

"Hello there, Petro. We've got some things to discuss. Why not accompany me to the garden?"

Ignoring Arthur completely, we made our way toward the garden.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Miller?"

"Tell me, Petro—when you came to pick up my wife, did the Scotts told you to go—"

"No, Miss Talia called me to come pick her up."

"Oh," I said slowly, starting to walk. "So now I want the whole story. What happened next?"

He froze.

"Look, Petro, I'm in no mood to investigate the whole thing. I'm here to talk to you. I want honesty. And if you can't give me honesty, I'll go the other way around to make you speak. You know what I mean."

He gulped.

"When I picked her up, she was distressed. She told me to take her home. I wasn't aware I had to keep this a secret from her parents, so before going there, I informed them."

"We... when we arrived, they—Mrs. Scott slapped her."

My jaw clenched. Ignoring the beads of sweat on his forehead, I said through gritted teeth, "Continue, Petro."

"They knew she left the house—or left you—but we don't know how. After that, I suggested Miss Talia to go home, but she refused. Then I—I dropped her at the bus station."

"Oh, is that so?"

I stepped closer.

"Look, Petro. I can track every single detail in seconds if I want to. But right now, I'm trusting you."

He paused. Then closed his eyes.

"I dropped her at her best friend Emily's house."

I smiled. "Perfect. Now I need the address."

⸻

We went inside.

"Evening, Avanna."

"Oh, Ethan, we were waiting for you to join us for tea."

"Ethannn, when did you get here—"

Anna's smile vanished when I stepped back..

"My dear father-in-law," I said pleasantly,

"May I have a moment?"

He smiled and stepped forward.

I smiled too—right before my fist crashed into his jaw.

"Daddd!"

"Arthur! Ethan, wha—"

"This, is for touching my wife. Mother-in-law, you should thank me I didn't slap you."

I straightened my coat.

"Now I must take my leave. I have somewhere else to go."

Enjoying their horrified looks, I turned.

"Shall we go now, Petro?"

"Y-yes, Mr. Miller."

"Let's go."

"Sir, where to?"

"Petro's going to show you the way Ben."

I lit up another cigarette, closing my eyes as I leaned back, letting everything sink in.