The smell of eggs and toast lured Ren out of bed.
For a fleeting moment, he forgot where he was. The soft bed. The expensive sheets. The quiet hum of nothingness. His eyes fluttered open to an unfamiliar ceiling, painted a soft cream, decorated with a gold-trimmed light fixture.
Then it hit him.
Right. I married a stranger yesterday.
He groaned and sat up slowly, running a hand through his messy hair. He was still wearing one of the oversized shirts left in the closet. His suitcase lay half-unpacked in the corner, like it didn't belong here—like he didn't belong here.
What am I doing in this place?
Dragging his feet, Ren stepped onto the cold marble floor and made his way out into the hallway. The entire second floor was silent, almost too silent. No music. No footsteps. Just the sound of his own bare feet on the polished stone.
As he passed the hallway leading to the east wing, his steps slowed.
The black door stood there, as still and imposing as last night. It wasn't just a door—it was a warning. Thick, matte, with no handle on the outside. A strange gold symbol was etched near the edge. It almost looked like a family crest... or a seal.
Just what is he hiding in there?
He took a step closer—
"Don't linger there."
Ren jumped. He turned to find Li Zeyan standing behind him, already dressed in his signature black suit, not a wrinkle out of place. His hair was slicked back, a silver watch peeking from beneath his sleeve. He looked like he hadn't slept—and didn't need to.
Ren scrambled to speak. "I wasn't—I mean—I was just passing by—"
"Come. Breakfast."
Zeyan didn't wait for a response. He turned and walked off without another glance.
Ren sighed. "Good morning to you too..."
The dining room was so massive it could have hosted a royal banquet. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, and a table made of dark polished wood stretched across the room like a runway. But only two places were set.
Li Zeyan sat at the far end, sipping black coffee and scrolling through his phone. He didn't even glance up when Ren entered.
Ren sat awkwardly across from him. A housekeeper appeared silently to pour him tea.
"Thanks," he mumbled, but she had already vanished.
He looked down at his plate—perfectly folded eggs, buttered toast, fresh-cut fruit, and a small croissant still warm from the oven. The smell made his stomach rumble.
Even the food looks expensive...
Ren picked at the food hesitantly. Delicious. But somehow... it all tasted cold. Like no one had made it with care.
"You don't have to cook for me, you know," he said, trying to break the silence. "I can make my own breakfast."
"I didn't cook," Li Zeyan replied without looking up. "The chef comes at six."
Ren flushed. "Oh. Right."
The silence returned, heavier than before.
"So… what exactly am I supposed to do during this 'marriage'?" Ren finally asked.
Zeyan paused his scrolling and looked up. His expression was unreadable.
"Look presentable. Stay out of trouble. And act like you belong here."
Ren raised an eyebrow. "Act? So you mean lie."
"Pretend, if it makes you feel better."
He's really not trying to make this easier…
Zeyan set down his coffee and added, "There will be events. Dinners. Appearances. You will attend when I say so. Dress accordingly."
Ren stabbed a piece of fruit with his fork. "This really is just a business deal, huh?"
Li Zeyan's voice dropped a little. "You agreed to the terms, Ren."
"Yeah," Ren muttered. "Doesn't mean it doesn't suck."
Just then, something caught his eye. A small envelope rested beside his teacup. Cream-colored. Unmarked.
He frowned. "What's this?"
Li Zeyan didn't glance at it. "I didn't put it there."
Ren hesitated, then carefully opened it.
Inside was a neatly folded slip of paper, written in elegant, looping handwriting.
"Be careful who you trust in this house.Not everyone wears their mask on their face."
Ren's fingers went still.
He reread it twice. His heartbeat picked up. When he finally looked up, Li Zeyan was gone.
When did he leave...?
Ren scanned the room, but the chair at the end of the table was empty, coffee cup half-full. The man had vanished without a sound.
He folded the note slowly and slipped it into his shirt pocket.
The house suddenly felt colder than before.