There was nothing festive about my wedding night at the Valerius estate.

The butler, Albert, was a kind old man. He said to me respectfully, "Madam, your room is the first on the left on the third floor. Please get some rest."

"Thank you, Albert," I said, exhausted.

The day had been a whirlwind, and my mind was a mess.

Walking on the thick, soft carpet, I felt like I was floating.

When I got to the third floor, I pushed open a door, not even noticing I'd gone to the right instead of the left.

I gave the room a quick glance. It was sparse, decorated in a cold black and white. Nothing special.

I didn't think much of it. I quickly washed up, changed into a slip dress, and buried myself in the bed, which smelled faintly of fir trees.

The scent was surprisingly calming, and I fell asleep almost instantly.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I felt something was wrong.

The fir scent in the air grew stronger, accompanied by a heavy, dangerous presence.

I felt a hot, cold gaze locked on me. Then, a cold, rough finger slowly traced my neck.

The finger moved down my collarbone, a sign of deadly danger.

I snapped my eyes open.

In the moonlight, a handsome face was hovering above me.

Caspian was wearing a half-open black shirt, the muscles of his chest faintly visible. He was looking down at me.

"Ah—!" I gasped, instinctively trying to back away, but I was already at the edge of the bed.

"Why are you in my bed?" Caspian's voice was low and raspy, laced with a dangerous edge.

His fingers tightened on my chin. "Alessia, did you forget what I said today? Or… are you that desperate to climb into my bed and secure your position?"

"No! I'm not!" I shook my head frantically, stammering, "The butler said… he said the left, I went to the wrong room! I really did!"

"The wrong room?" He sneered, leaning closer, his warm breath on my face. "What a pathetic excuse."

"I'm not lying! I'll leave right now!"

Desperate to prove myself, I tried to push myself up.

But my foot got tangled in the sheets, and I lost my balance. Instead of escaping, I fell forward, right into Caspian.

We both tumbled onto the soft, massive bed.

Not only did I fall on top of him, but my lips crashed into his.

I stared, wide-eyed. Time seemed to stop.

His lips were cool, but the moment they touched mine, it was like a jolt of electricity shot down my spine.

Caspian's pupils constricted, and the hand on my waist tightened.

I snapped back to reality, terrified. With a strength I didn't know I had, I shoved him away and scrambled off the bed.

I didn't even bother with shoes. I fled barefoot, like a spooked rabbit, back to my own room.

Only after I locked the door did I lean against it, gasping for air, my heart pounding in my chest.

Thinking about that "kiss," I was mortified and terrified.

Oh God, was he going to kill me tomorrow?

The next morning, I woke up in a daze as sunlight streamed into the room.

When I went downstairs, Albert had already prepared a lavish breakfast for me.

"The master left early for family business, Madam," Albert said with a smile.

Hearing Caspian was gone, the tension I'd held all night finally eased.

After last night's disaster, I had no idea how I was going to face him.

After breakfast, I wandered aimlessly through the huge mansion.

As I passed through a dim hallway on the first floor, a half-open door to a side room caught my eye.

I gently pushed it open and saw a grand piano standing silently in the corner.

As if possessed, I walked over and lifted the white sheet covering it.

A perfect black B?sendorfer was revealed. It reminded me of how my mother used to gently teach me on a piano just like this.

A wave of sadness washed over me. I slowly sat down, my fingers trembling as they touched the cool keys.

Dong—

A clear note echoed in the empty room.

I closed my eyes and let my fingers fly across the keys. I started playing the Chopin nocturne my mother had taught me.

The music, at first hesitant, grew fluid and passionate.

I felt like I was back in the days when my mother was alive, back in an afternoon filled with sunshine and music.

Tears streamed down my face, splashing onto the black and white keys.

I was completely lost in my own world until the final note slowly faded.

I slowly opened my eyes, about to wipe my tears, when I felt an undeniable presence behind me.

I whipped my head around.

Caspian had returned at some point.

He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. For the first time, his cold green eyes weren't filled with indifference or mockery. Instead, they held a look I couldn't quite decipher.

I jumped, scrambling to my feet and wringing my hands. "I'm sorry, Mr. Valerius. I didn't mean to touch your things, I just…"

I expected him to yell at me, to punish me, just like my father and stepmother would have.

But Caspian just slowly straightened up and walked toward me.

He looked at my red-rimmed eyes and was silent for a long moment.

"Not bad," he murmured, his voice a low rumble.

The air between me and Caspian had changed since he found me in the music room.

The way he looked at me wasn't so cold and empty anymore.

It didn't mean I wasn't still scared of him, though.

A week into our marriage, and I was still a mouse in the lion's den, walking on eggshells every second of the day.

I never dared to look him in the eye. I only stole quick glances from the corner of my eye when he was buried in paperwork or staring out the window, his face half-hidden in shadow.

If our eyes ever met by accident, I'd flinch and whip my head away.

That afternoon, I got a call from Bianca.

"Alessia, my dear sister," she cooed. "You must be miserable, aren't you? Has that disfigured monster been torturing you? Hahahaha! You'd better hang in there."

Her sharp, gloating laughter crackled through the phone.

I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood. I wanted to fire back, but after a lifetime of her bullying, it was like I'd forgotten how to fight back.

After hanging up, I just curled up on the sofa by the window, numb.

I don't know how long I sat there before Albert, the butler, appeared at the door. "Madam," he said, his voice formal. "Sir has instructed you to prepare yourself. You will be accompanying him to a dinner this evening."

I was confused. A dinner? He never went to things like this.

Was he finally ready to let people see his face?

I couldn't make sense of it, but I nodded.

That evening, a gown was delivered to my room.

It was a long, deep green velvet dress. The fabric was like cool, heavy silk against my skin.

I'd never even seen something so beautiful, let alone owned it. I'd arrived with a single, battered suitcase holding all my clothes from the last twenty-odd years—all of them Bianca's cast-offs.

When I was finally dressed, my heart pounding, I walked down the grand staircase. Caspian was waiting for me at the bottom.

He looked up, and for a split second, I could have sworn I saw something flicker in his eyes—was it awe?

He stood there in a perfectly tailored black suit, tall and imposing. The sheer force of his presence was suffocating.

"Let's go, Mrs. Valerius." He came to me and offered his arm.

It was a gesture I had never imagined.

I froze, stunned. It took me a few seconds before I hesitantly placed my hand in the crook of his elbow.

His arm was solid muscle. I could feel the heat of him even through the fabric, and my heart skipped a beat.

The moment we entered the ballroom, the noise died. It was like someone hit a mute button.

Dozens of eyes locked onto us like searchlights. Or more accurately, they locked onto his face. Onto Caspian Valerius.

The people who came to see the "disfigured monster" were frozen, their faces a mask of shock and disbelief when they saw he was untouched.

I could feel a wave of irritation coming off him, but he kept it leashed.

A few important-looking men came over to talk to him. I just stood beside him, a pretty ornament.

Maybe he sensed how uncomfortable I was. He led me to the dessert table. "Wait here," he said, his voice low.

"Okay," I nodded meekly, watching his tall back disappear into the crowd, a lost feeling washing over me.

I hadn't even taken a bite of cake before my worst nightmare found me.

"Alessia! You lying bitch!"

Bianca and my stepmother, Genevieve, stormed up to me.

Bianca's eyes raked over my dress like knives, her face twisted with jealousy.

"Why didn't you tell me the Don wasn't disfigured? This was supposed to be my place!" She grabbed my wrist, her nails digging into my skin so hard I hissed in pain. "You worthless thing. What right do you have to stand next to him? You go to the Don right now and tell him you're giving your position back to me! I'm the only one who deserves him!"

She yanked me so hard I stumbled, pale and helpless.

Curious eyes turned our way. I felt like I'd been stripped naked for everyone to see, drowning in shame and panic.

Just then, a voice like ice cut through the air behind us.

"Let her go."

It was Caspian.

Bianca jumped, dropping my wrist. When she saw who it was, her face instantly changed. She plastered on a seductive smile and puffed out her chest. "Don Valerius, hello. I'm Alessia's sister—"

Caspian didn't even let her finish. A cold, dismissive smirk touched his lips.

"I don't give a damn who you are." He pulled me gently behind him, shielding me with his body.

Hiding behind his broad back, I caught the clean, woody scent on him. My racing heart actually started to slow.

His cold eyes bore down on Bianca.

"My wife," he said, his voice dangerously low. "You think you have the right to touch her?"

Those two words—My wife—didn't just make Bianca go pale. They sent a jolt through me, too.

Defending me in front of everyone… was this part of the deal? Was this what it meant to be the Don's wife?

He went on. "I see the Rossi family doesn't teach their daughters any class. Now, get out of my sight. Before I decide to wipe the Rossi name off the map in Chicago for good."

All the color drained from Bianca's face. Her knees buckled, and she nearly collapsed. "Don Valerius, I—"

Caspian didn't spare her another glance. He gave a cold flick of his wrist. "Security. Get this trash out of here."

As the entire room watched, Bianca and Genevieve were dragged out like stray dogs by two huge security guards. Bianca's screams and pleas were ignored by everyone.

I watched, stunned, as the sister who had tormented me my whole life, who had treated me like dirt, was utterly humiliated in front of me, stripped of all her dignity.

A strange, unfamiliar thrill coiled in my stomach.

So this is what power tastes like. This is what it feels like to have someone stand in front of you.

I was still trembling when a large, warm hand came to rest on my shoulder.

"It's over."

I looked up into his dark eyes. His voice was low and steady, with a strange, calming power.

For the first time, I realized it was… gentle.

The ride home was silent, but it was a different kind of silence. The air in the car was thick with unspoken things.

I stared out at the blur of neon lights, but the city was muted. All I could hear was his voice, echoing in my head.

My wife.

(Caspian's POV)

Back at the estate, I went straight to my study.

My right-hand man, Leo, was already waiting for me. He handed me a thick file.

"Boss, this is the background check you asked me to run on your wife."

"There's something else. Her mother's death… there's more to the story," Leo said, his expression grim.

Hearing that, I had a bad feeling, and my face darkened.

Leo hesitated for a moment, then finally asked tentatively:

"Boss… are you catching feelings for her?"