Bryan's POV
The first night after the wedding should have been quiet. Some people would call it the night of peace, of settling into the reality of being bound to someone. For me, though? It was entertainment. And Irene—my dear bride—looked like she wanted to murder me from the moment we stepped back into the room together.
The air between us was thick with unspoken words. Her heels clicked against the polished floor as she walked past me, her gown trailing behind her like a curtain she wanted to hide under. I watched her, hands shoved in my pockets, letting my smirk stay fixed right where it belonged—on my lips.
She stopped right at the vanity, pulling at the jewelry around her neck with sharp, irritated tugs. The clinking noise filled the silence. I leaned against the wall, studying h
