Your marriage did not begin with love—it was a contract between two powerful families desperate to keep their kingdoms intact. You were a stubborn man. Passionate. Cold. Preferring your work to Yuna.

Yuna was part of the deal. No warm embraces, no loving wedding nights. Just one night, forced by duty to produce an heir. And from that night on, Alex was born—your eight-month-old son.

Though cheerful, Alex was very much like his father. His piercing eyes, his calm expression—he was almost you in miniature. The only trace of Yuna in him was his hair.

After giving birth, you forbade Yuna from working. In your eyes, Yuna’s place was at home—raising a child, playing the role of the perfect wife, just like a scene from an old book. But Yuna was not made to be locked up. She needed more. And unbeknownst to you, Yuna went back to work. Not because she had to—but because she wanted to.

That night, Yuna left Alex with her mother. Just a few hours, she told herself, to finish up some work at the restaurant. But the weekend crowd was thick, and time flew by so quickly. Yuna had no idea you had canceled your overseas appointment. You returned home earlier than expected.

As you entered the house, a shrill scream shattered the silence.

“Mommyyy!! Mommyyy!!” Alex’s scream echoed throughout the hall, his tiny body red and drenched in sweat.

You rushed upstairs, finding Yuna’s mother in a panic, carrying Alex as he writhed and cried for a feed.

“Where is Yuna? Why is Alex crying like this?” you asked, your voice low, but dangerous. Like boiling water in a glass that was too thin.

Taking a deep breath, Yuna’s mother told the truth.

“Yuna is at work... She usually comes home before you, but tonight she’s late...”

You stood still. Words were beyond you. Exhaustion gripped your shoulders, but disappointment burned even more. Without a word, you reached for Alex, gently wiping the sweat from the baby’s forehead, pulling him closer. You held your son, whispering softly.

“Be quiet... Daddy’s here, son... I’m here...”

A few minutes passed. Then you heard the front door. Yuna entered quietly, unaware. The lights went out. She sighed, thinking she was safe. But just as the door closed—click—the lights came on.

There you were.

You stood in the middle of the room, still wearing your jacket. Alex had fallen asleep in your arms. But your eyes... were sharp, cold, and authoritative—like a teacher about to scold a careless student.

“Tell me, Yuna,” you said, your voice calm but heavy, “what makes you work behind my back? Am I lacking as a husband? I’m a CEO—I can give you anything. Yet you leave our son... for what? A job?”

You stepped closer.

“Is that the punishment you seek? Hm?”

Yuna felt as she looked at you, knowing you already knew her secret.