Rich

Agatha's POV

I walked into the house, stunned by the elegance of the interior. Everything screamed wealth, and for a moment, I reconsidered the "husband" I had married.

"What is his source of wealth?" I wondered.

Thinking back on the decision I had made earlier, I let out a soft chuckle.

But then I felt it—that prickling sensation, like eyes on me. I turned around, and a chill crept up my spine.

I was being watched.

I turned again to pinpoint the source—and there he was, staring at me with a death glare.

My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my garment as my heart began to race.

"Stupid heart," I muttered.

As much as I wanted to deny having any feelings for the "husband" I had married, my mind was clearly playing tricks on me.

"Little one, you’ve been staring at me."

Snapping back to reality, I saw the smirk on his face—like a predator eyeing its prey.

He stepped closer, and I instinctively took a step back. I knew then, I was standing at Death’s door.

I shut my eyes, bracing for the worst—only to feel a light peck on my cheek.

Opening my eyes, I noticed the temperature in the room had dropped. His gaze was cold, almost frosty.

"Welcome home, Mrs." the butler said.

It sounded familiar... and yet so strange.

My "husband" didn’t even glance at the one who spoke. And judging by the butler’s calm expression, he didn’t expect him to.

The butler guided me to my room. Gosh, I was already acting like some lovestruck fool—calling him my husband in my head. But that was his identity now, wasn't it? And oddly enough, it felt way too easy to say it.

Desmond walked behind me, and I could feel every one of his footsteps—steady, deliberate. This whole place felt strange. Unfamiliar. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that I'd had a flash marriage with a complete stranger. A man I didn’t even know.

“Please make yourself comfortable, ma’am,” the butler said, stepping aside to reveal the spacious room.

I looked around. The room… it somehow smelled like my new husband. I turned to the butler. “Thank you very much.”

He nodded with the precision of a trained professional and left, closing the door behind him.

Now it was just me and Desmond.

I turned to him awkwardly, parting my lips to say something, but no words came out. Desmond stared back, his brow faintly furrowed.

“I’ll be going out for some work. You stay here and rest first,” he said coolly.

I nodded instinctively. Then my brain finally caught up—going out for work? At this hour? What kind of work happens this late, when most people were already asleep?

Even werewolves had called it a night by now.

Still, I just responded quietly, “Okay… sure,” keeping my thoughts to myself.

He gave me a short nod, then turned and walked down the stairs. The sound of his footsteps slowly faded until silence filled the hallway.

With Desmond gone, I was about to shut my door and finally sleep when a powerful hand blocked it from closing.

My heart almost shot out of my chest.

My wolf stirred inside me—alert.

My eyes snapped up—and locked with his.

Desmond.

How did he get here so fast?

I’d literally watched him go down the stairs. I didn’t hear a single sound. Not a footstep, not a creak, nothing.

What the hell was going on?

I forced a smile, pretending I hadn’t noticed anything weird. “Anything else? Can I help you?”

Desmond stared at me coldly, his dark brow furrowed. “There’s a room you shouldn’t enter,” he said, his voice low. “Avoid it. Got that?”

What? I murmured in my heart. What room? Why so cryptic?

Still, I wasn’t in the mood to play detective in a stranger’s mansion. “Okay. I won’t go into that room. Just as you said.”

I gave him a small smile.

Desmond eyed me skeptically, one brow raised. “Good. Just be an obedient little wife and stay where you’re told… dear wife.”

He smirked, his face suddenly way too close. His breath brushed against my cheek—warm, intoxicating.

I frowned, resisting the urge to flush. I just couldn’t understand this man. One moment, he was cold and calculating. The next, he was flirting like some charming devil.

What was his deal?

I wasn’t some middle school girl who’d blush at a few sweet words. I straightened my back.

“Alright, I got it. You can go now,” I said loudly—and slammed the door in his face for good measure.

I might’ve overreacted, but seriously—he had the audacity to claim he was heading out for work at this hour? I was starving, and the only thing keeping me busy was arranging my clothes into the closet.

Then I heard a knock at the door.

I walked over and opened it gently. A mature, middle-aged woman in a maid uniform stood outside.

“Greetings, madam. Dinner is ready. You are invited to come eat,” she said politely.

“Okay, thank you,” I replied.

I was about to tell her I’d already eaten, but my stomach betrayed me with a loud growl. The embarrassment hit instantly.

“Give me one minute. I’ll come for dinner,” I said instead.

She nodded and walked away. I folded the last few clothes before heading downstairs.

As I descended, my eyes couldn’t help but roam around the mansion. The place screamed old money. It looked like something pulled straight out of history—elegant, antique, and... hauntingly silent.

When I reached the dining room, I noticed the long table was set with food, but no one else was seated.

Only a few servants stood nearby, ready to serve.

I took my seat, eyes scanning the delicious spread. It smelled amazing.

Just as I was about to dig into a juicy-looking steak, I paused. The fork hovered mid-air as I turned to the butler.

“Please, where is your young master?” I asked.

“The young master is back,” he replied. “But he’s occupied with some business around the house. He won’t be joining you for dinner.”