Chapter 1: Trouble in Silk
The sky of New London shimmered with neon veins, airships humming above the Wolter estate — a colossal blend of old-world royalty and 22nd-century tech. But deep within those shining walls, peace was a rare currency.
"Sher Wolter, open this door right now or I swear, I'll— I'll throw your entire AI wine collection into the pond!"
Sher didn't look up from his holographic interface. "You don't even drink, Hana."
"Not the point!" came the muffled scream from outside his office. "I asked for your permission to go to the Sky Bazaar and you said no like I'm some caged pet!"
The office door slid open before he could stop it — because Hana had overridden the lock again. She stomped in, her cherry-red boots clacking against the marble floor. Trouble walked in silk that day — and Sher, as always, braced for impact.
Her eyes sparkled — not with love, but fire. "You're impossible."
"You're reckless," he replied calmly, turning in his chair. "And I don't need my wife getting into another hover-bike chase in the lower districts. You cause riots when you sneeze."
"I was trying to help that boy's dog!"
"You ran through a restricted military tunnel!"
"How else was I supposed to find the puppy?" she blinked innocently.
Sher pinched the bridge of his nose. "You make my security team cry."
"Good. They should toughen up."
They stood in silence for a second.
"You're smiling," she accused, narrowing her eyes.
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are! You like when I do this."
"I like peace and silence."
"You married the wrong girl, then."
"No," he said under his breath — too soft for her to catch. "I married the only one who could ruin my life beautifully."
"What?"
"Nothing. You're banned from going to the Bazaar."
She groaned dramatically. "You are the most stone-hearted, arrogant, emotionless, ridiculously hot tyrant I've ever met."
He arched a brow. "You think I'm hot?"
"No. I said ridiculously hot. Get your facts straight."
---
The glass-paneled corridor echoed with the sharp rhythm of cherry-red boots, each step louder than the last. Hana Chorl, daughter-in-law of the Wolter Empire, troublemaker of the century, had one hand on her hip and the other clenched around a crumpled message chip.
"I'm not asking anymore," she muttered under her breath. "I *told* him I'd go to the Sky Bazaar."
With a flick of her wrist, she bypassed the retina scanner outside Sher Wolter's private study. The door should've denied her — security was programmed for Wolter DNA access only.
But Hana had hacked the code last month. Because obviously, who wouldn't crack her husband's security just for fun?
The door slid open with a sigh.
Sher didn't look up. He was seated at his obsidian desk, back straight, eyes fixed on a glowing blue hologram map of their border patrol.
Of course. Always busy being perfect.
"I'm going," Hana declared dramatically. "And if you think your boring little bodyguards can stop me—"
"Already recalled them." His deep voice cut through her storm like ice in a glass.
She blinked. "You what?"
Sher finally raised his eyes — silver-gray, like the sky before a storm. The kind that made people stop breathing for a second.
God, why was he always so unfairly attractive while ruining her life?
"You're not stepping outside the estate today," he said coolly. "End of discussion."
"Oh no, no, no." Hana stalked toward him, waving the message chip like a weapon. "You *promised* I could go if I passed that stupid etiquette exam your aunt gave me. I passed, Sher. With *honors.* I even smiled at the robotic butler without threatening to rewire his face."
"That was one time."
"You can't use it against me forever!"
He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "You caused a citywide riot during your last shopping trip."
"It wasn't a *riot*. It was a mild misunderstanding involving a flying purse drone and an antique weapon shop." She pouted. "No one even got hurt. Just... chased a little."
His brow arched, unimpressed.
"I was trying to help a kid find his missing drone! It flew into restricted airspace, and you know how security overreacts—"
"You were the one who broke into a military tunnel, Hana."
"*Technically*, I crawled. I didn't *break* anything."
Sher exhaled slowly. "You know what your problem is?"
"Besides you?" she snapped.
He gave her a long, unreadable stare. Then, with terrifying calm, he picked up his comm device. "Security. Lock down all external gates."
"*Sher!*" she yelled.
"I'll lift the lockdown in three days."
"THREE—?!"
"Unless you behave."
"I'll throw your wine cellar into the koi pond!"
He didn't even flinch. "You don't drink wine."
"Fine, I'll drink it first, then throw myself into the koi pond!"
A flicker of something — amusement? concern? — crossed his face, but it was gone too fast.
Hana narrowed her eyes. "You know what you are? You're a cold, heartless, control-obsessed, emotionally constipated—"
He stood.
She stumbled back a step. Just a little. Only because he was... tall. And intense. Not because he was hot. Definitely not.
"Do you want me to tie you to this chair until the impulse passes?" he asked, voice smooth as velvet, eyes sharp as a blade.
Hana gasped. "Are you threatening to kidnap your *own wife?*"
"*Again,*" he added casually.
Her jaw dropped.
"And for the record," he continued, walking slowly toward her, "I'm not heartless."
"Oh, really?"
"I just reserve my heart for things that don't deliberately drive me insane."
"That's rich coming from the man who locked down the estate because I wanted to buy street noodles!"
"You're allergic to street noodles."
"Not anymore!"
He stopped right in front of her. A breath away. His silver eyes pinned her like magnets.
"You're not going," he said again. Softer. Final.
And there it was — that maddening thing he did. That quiet power. No shouting, no real threats. Just complete, terrifying control of every moment.
Hana growled, spun on her heel, and marched toward the door. Then stopped.
Whipped around. Threw the message chip across the room.
It bounced off the edge of his desk and landed harmlessly on the carpet.
"I *hate* you," she muttered.
Sher didn't move.
"You're so— so composed and silent and serious and *gray*. You're like a thundercloud that never rains! Just... hovering over my life!"
Still nothing.
"Say something, dammit!"
He leaned on his desk. Calm. Dangerous. Barely smirking.
"You wore the red boots today," he said.
She blinked. "What?"
"The ones you wore on our wedding day. You only wear them when you're feeling wild."
Her heart skipped.
He noticed?
She covered it with another glare. "So what?"
"They suit you," he said.
And just like that, she forgot why she was mad. Forgot where she was. Forgot what oxygen was.
But Sher didn't give her a second to respond. He turned back to his hologram, completely unfazed.
Dismissed.
Oh. Oh, the audacity.
"Fine!" she shouted. "But you better sleep with one eye open tonight, Wolter!"
"Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise, Mrs. Wolter."
She slammed the door shut behind her.
---
Outside, in the hallway, Hana clutched her chest.
God. Why did he always make her feel like she was the ridiculous one?
She should hate him. She really should.
So why was she smiling?
---