I couldn’t sleep.
Not after what I heard.
Not after the way he looked at me.
Like I was something temporary.
Something disposable.
The door creaked open.
I sat up instantly.
He walked in, loosening his tie, like he owned not just the house—but me.
“We need to talk,” he said.
My heart pounded. “About what?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he poured himself a drink.
Calm. Controlled.
Dangerous.
Then—
“Do you know why I married you?” he asked.
I frowned. “To help my family.”
A cold smile appeared.
“No.”
My stomach tightened.
“I married you,” he said slowly, “because of your family.”
My pulse spiked.
“What does that mean?”
His eyes locked onto mine.
“Your father,” he said, “is the reason mine is dead.”
The words hit like a slap.
“That’s not true,” I whispered.
“Isn’t it?” he replied.
I shook my head. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” he stepped closer. “Or were you just kept in the dark?”
My chest tightened painfully.
“No… my father wouldn’t—”
“Your father destroyed everything,” he cut in, his voice sharp. “And now…”
He paused.
His gaze turned cold.
“I’m going to do the same to him.”
My heart stopped.
“And you,” he added quietly, “are how I’m going to do it.”
I stared at him, my world collapsing.
This wasn’t a marriage.
It was revenge.
And I had just become part of the war.