Chapter 2

James came home at eight in the evening. I had just finished taking a shower and washing my hair.

Seeing that James was already back, I was instantly startled when he walked into the bedroom.

"What's wrong with you? You usually run around naked to chase after that lover of yours, don't you?" he said in an intimidating tone.

I scoffed. "You're wrong, Mr. James. I won't be seeing him anymore."

James stepped closer, pinning me against the wall. "What did you say?"

"I won't be seeing him anymore," I said firmly.

Then, without any warning, he pulled the back of my neck and captured my lips.

His warm breath mingled with my skin, making my whole body suddenly stiffen. The kiss wasn't just a touch; it was a demand full of dominance, as if he wanted to strip away every ounce of resistance from within me.

I gasped, moving to push his chest, but his grip on the back of my neck was too strong. My brain, which had been working at lightning speed, suddenly went completely blank. Damn it, this man was really Alana's husband? Why did his charm feel so dangerously intoxicating?

The moment he broke our kiss, his gaze locked intensely onto mine, probing deep into my retinas as if searching for a speck of a lie.

"What kind of game are you playing this time, Alana?" he whispered lowly, his breath still hot near my ear. His voice sounded cynical, but a thin trace of hesitation slipped through his gaze.

I tried to regulate my breathing. "From now on, I am a new Alana. I won't go out of the house at all without your permission."

He scoffed. "Then what else can you do? Wash my back while I take a shower?"

I laughed. "If that's what you want, why should I refuse?"

James’s eyes widened slightly, a flash of undisguised shock sweeping across his handsome face. The hand that had been gripping the back of my neck slowly loosened, leaving a thin space between us.

"You're completely out of your mind," he whispered, his voice now sounding more like a disbelieving hiss than a threat.

I curled my lips into a faint smile, staring straight into his sharp irises. "Maybe so. Isn't a crazy woman a lot more interesting than a terrifying one who loves destroying the kitchen?"

James narrowed his eyes, evaluating every inch of my expression with a probing gaze. It was as if he were trying to figure out whether the woman in front of him was still the same Alana, or some other demon possessing his wife.

With slow movements, he stepped back, adjusting his slightly messy tie. "I think you need to get your head checked tomorrow," he said coldly, though a trace of hesitation lingered in his tone. "And about washing my back... don't ever think I'll fall for your cheap tricks, Alana."

He turned toward the bathroom door, leaving me standing with my back pressed against the wall while holding back a small laugh of victory.

‘Turns out he gets embarrassed. Oh, Alana. What on earth were you thinking to throw away a man as attractive as James for that sketchy William?’ I thought to myself.

I tidied up the strands of my hair, which were still half-wet, and then lay down briefly on the edge of the plush king-size bed. My mind spun rapidly, pondering how absurd the situation I was facing really was. In the real world, my life revolved around coffee beans, espresso machines, and lines of customers ordering lattes. But now? I was trapped as the wife of a cold conglomerate whose face looked like a television drama lead actor with a charming mafia-don vibe.

While staring up at the bedroom ceiling adorned with a luxury crystal chandelier, I muttered softly, "The real Alana is truly blind. Having a husband who is handsome, rich, and has an athletic body like this, yet choosing to cheat with some sketchy guy. I feel like flicking her forehead if she were here."

Suddenly, the sound of the bathroom door opening interrupted my monologue. James walked out wearing a bathrobe slightly open at the chest, revealing curves of pectoral and abdominal muscles that made me instinctively swallow hard. His dark hair was wet, water droplets sliding slowly past his sharp jawline.

Ah, damn it! Do I have to miss out on this incredible free show? I thought, quickly looking away before he caught me staring.

James dressed casually, completely unbothered by the fact that my face was probably as red as a tomato right now.

"Alana, you have to come with me. Tonight we have our routine schedule."

I froze for a moment, trying to recall the events in the novel. James expected Alana to bear his child, and they routinely attended fertility checkups.

Oh gosh! But I've never done anything like that at all! I thought.

I could only stand paralyzed in place, feeling a burning, warm sensation creeping up my cheeks to the tips of my ears. The mental image of the scene I had read in the novel last night flashed rapidly through my head.

‘Is this the fertility checkup schedule?! You've got to be kidding me!’

In real life, as Rhea, holding hands with the opposite sex could be counted on one hand, let alone having to undergo a fertility checkup just to conceive! I felt like vanishing into the floorboards of the bathroom right this second.

"Why? Are you having objections?" James’s voice broke my trance. He stared at me through the mirror while straightening his shirt collar, noticing the panicked shift in my expression.

I swallowed hard, working hard to neutralize my tone so it wouldn't sound shaky.

"N-not like that, James... But does it really have to be tonight?" I asked hesitantly, trying to buy some time.

James stepped closer. "You're refusing? Ha, I knew it!" He looked annoyed.

I hurriedly corrected myself, "Fine. Okay. But, I don't want to go alone. You'll accompany me, right?"

This time, he reached out to touch my forehead.  "You don't have a fever, Alana. But... why are you acting so weird?"

***