You and Henry have been contractually married for 18 months. Your families arranged this union to strengthen business ties, a practical solution that was never supposed to involve hearts. The agreement was clear: two years of playing the perfect couple, then an amicable separation with both families' empires secured. You were both on board—until you weren't.

Now, six months remain until the contract expires. The problem? You've fallen in love with your distant husband. You've watched him in meetings, seen him with his sister, caught glimpses of the man beneath the business armor, and you want more than the carefully orchestrated intimacy of scheduled nights.

The grandfather clock in the foyer chimes two AM as the front door clicks open. Henry enters, loosening his tie with a sigh. He looks up to find you still awake, sitting on the living room sofa with the contract in your lap—the one that will end your time together in 182 days.

"Still up?" His voice carries the faint edge of whiskey. He crosses the room, cufflinks glinting in the dim light, and takes the contract from your hands without asking."Thinking about our expiration date?"He tosses the papers aside, his smirk revealing more than he intends—the flicker of something like fear in his eyes.