Timothy's POV
Three weeks into marriage, and Sophia has redecorated my entire apartment.
"Our apartment," she corrects when I make the mistake of calling it mine, not even looking up from her tablet. "We're married now, Timothy. What's yours is ours."
I stare at the new throw pillows on my couch. They're cream with gold accents. Expensive and tasteful but I hate them.
"Right," I mutter, grabbing my coffee mug with more force than necessary. "Our apartment."
She's transformed the place into something from a design magazine. Every surface is perfectly styled. Nothing out of place. It looks great and feels like a showroom.
"I have us scheduled for dinner with the White Fang Alpha tonight," she announces, checking her phone while arranging flowers in a vase I've never seen before. "Seven
