The sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow over the apartment. I lounged on the couch, sprawled comfortably with my legs tucked under me, a mischievous grin playing on my lips as I watched Karthiel beside me, laptop open, fingers flying across the keys.
"Hey, darling," I chirped, leaning over to brush a strand of hair from his face, "look at me! I made dumplings today. Brand new recipe. You have to try." I held up a small plate, dumplings steaming gently.
His sharp gaze flicked to me for a moment, but instead of scolding, he just hummed softly, his hand briefly brushing mine as he took a bite. "Hmm," he murmured, eyes still focused on the screen, "good."
I bounced a little in excitement. "Good? That's all? Baby, that's not nearly enough praise for my cooking!" I teased, plopping down beside him on the couch, careful to drape my leg over his lap. He didn't protest, just let me get comfortable, the corners of his mouth twitching as if fighting a smile.
"I'm serious, Karthiel. I perfected the folding technique too! Look at these edges," I said, holding up a dumpling proudly. "Perfectly crisp, soft middle. I even made a few heart-shaped ones just for you." I winked, nudging him playfully.
He finally took his eyes off the laptop, glancing at the dumplings and then at me. His gaze softened, warmer than usual, almost indulgent. "You really do whatever you want, don't you?" His voice was low, teasing only slightly, but his hand came up to brush my hair back again, gentle enough to make me shiver.
"I do when you let me," I whispered, leaning in closer to kiss the tip of his nose. He leaned into it, hums vibrating against my lips. "And you never say no."
I took a dumpling and playfully fed it to him, holding it to his mouth while he stared at me with those calm, steady eyes, unblinking but infinitely soft. His lips wrapped around the dumpling and he chewed, all while keeping his hand on my thigh, thumb tracing lazy circles, grounding me in his presence.
"And you didn't even take that call from your meeting earlier," I said, noticing the phone buzzing silently on the table, he had rejected the call and the invitation from a meeting gathering just to spend the day with me. Of course he wouldn't ever say that out loud but I know it anyway.
"You chose me instead. You really are impossible, Karthiel Coldmere. Oh, I know you're melting for me." I giggled, brushing my nose against his jaw, letting my fingers trace the line of his neck.
His lips quirked slightly. "Impossible… perhaps. But worth it." He gave my thigh a squeeze, then leaned back against the couch, letting me rest comfortably against him.
I couldn't resist, leaning up to kiss his jaw, his cheek, finally pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. "See? You just let me do whatever I want. And you love it."
He exhaled slowly, gaze soft, fingers still tracing me, lips curved into the faintest smile. "You're relentless," he murmured, "but… yes."
I grinned, snuggling closer, dumplings forgotten on the plate beside us. The day passed lazily like that—me chattering, teasing, feeding him bites, and him watching, listening, occasionally murmuring a word or letting his gentle touches wander over me. No scolding, no interruptions—just us, warm, close, and entirely ours.
Even the world outside could wait. Today was just about us.
And just Like that, months slipped by, each day more exciting than the last. I was genuinely enjoying every moment. The business world, which I once thought was daunting and dull, had become my playground. Organizing meetings, analyzing charts, strategizing deals—it all felt natural, even fun. I was good at it.
Grandpa's pride was the sweetest reward. He beamed every time I stepped into a room, and the empire we built together flourished under my ideas and techniques. Meetings and collaborations became my arena, and success followed me like a shadow.
Banquets were no longer just fancy boring dinners; they were my stage. Grandpa proudly introduced me as the future, and I made sure everyone knew it—especially when anyone dared to underestimate me.
Like last week, at a banquet, some arrogant voice whispered loud enough to catch my ear, "You're so lucky, Evaric. You got all the money and business handed to you by your grandpa. You never had to work hard."
I smiled, calm and confident, and replied, "True, I didn't work hard to get it. But I work smart to keep it. Grandpa gave me the empire—and I love him enough to honor his hard work every single day. Unlike you, who wouldn't know what to do with success if it landed in your lap."
Silence swallowed the room. Every eye was on me, sharp and calculating. From that day on, everyone thought twice before crossing me or questioning my place.
I wasn't just the heir—I was the force behind the throne.
And about me and Karthiel? Oh, we're living the absolute best life. Every second with him is like a new adventure, and I'm soaking it all in. He still hasn't outright admitted he loves me—but honestly, who cares? Because he's acting like the perfect husband already.
He leaves meetings the moment I ask for a date, answers my calls and texts immediately, and if he ever misses one, he explains with that clear, composed honesty of his—busy, unaware, or caught up with work, never making excuses.
And the way he keeps me all to himself? That's a whole other story. Like the time Mr. Max came over for work, and we talked casually. Karthiel saw it—and oh, he was mad. Let's just say I was well 'punished' that night for daring to speak to another man.
Also, guess what? He's totally obsessed with my cooking now. I experiment with new dishes almost every day, whether they're hits or misses, and he tastes every single one, always encouraging me with a little positive nod or a smile. It's like my own personal cheerleader in the kitchen. These days, his face shows more—just a little, faint emotions, but enough to melt me every time. He smiles more, his eyes softer, and his attention?
Always fixed on me. Oh, and he's banned me from going to clubs—which is probably for the best, considering my habit of flirting with everyone. But honestly, I don't mind at all. I'm just happy. So, so happy.
It was the start of a new week, and I was deep in discussion with my assistant over some business details when my phone buzzed—Grandpa was calling. He said he needed to meet me about something important.
After wrapping up with Marcus, I called Grandpa back, ready to ask what it was about, already thinking how busy I was and maybe I could postpone. But before I could say a word, he dropped the bomb that sent my heart racing: "I'm fixing your wedding."
Wait, what?! Fixing my wedding? Did he even ask me?
Panic hit me like a tidal wave. If Karthiel found out Grandpa was setting me up with someone else—who knows who?—he'd lose it.
Like, literally lose it. He's too possessive, too scary when it comes to me. He'd probably go after that person, and then me. I needed to act fast. This was NOT something I could let happen.
As soon as I reached the mansion, I shouted, loosening my tie. "Grandpa, the hell do you mean you're fixing my wedding? I'm not marrying anyone—never!"
Before he could answer, a deep, dominant voice cut through the room. "You don't want to marry me?"
My eyes widened, and I almost lost my balance when I saw the man sitting calmly on the couch beside Grandpa.
Karthiel Coldmere.
"What's happening." I muttered, confused and a little nervous.
Grandpa sighed deeply. "He came here for marriage with you. I never knew since when you got this close with him. I asked you to get close to him for business collaboration, and you went and got yourself marriage instead. You really are my grandson."
My face burned red as I locked eyes with Karthiel, my heart pounding.
Grandpa then said, "But it seems you don't want this wedding."
"Huh? Oh no no, Grandpa, you heard wrong! I'm getting older and need to get married, need someone to take care of me. Don't you think?" I said quickly, kneeling beside him and massaging his arm and leg.
"Go away, your sudden love and smiles are creeping me out," Grandpa grumbled.
"Grandpa, be grateful I love you!" I exclaimed, half-mad.
"Whatever, do you want to marry him or not?" he asked, serious now.
"Oh my god, is that even a question? I've wanted that forever, I was born to marry him!" I said happily before rushing toward Karthiel and hugging him tight. He instantly hugged me back without hesitation.
Grandpa gave a small sigh, stood up, and said, "I won't disturb you two then. I'll begin the wedding preparations."
He left us alone, giving us the precious time we both needed.
I teased him by nibbling slightly on his lip, my fingers playing through his hair. "You won't say you love me but you want to marry me?" I asked, rubbing our noses together, eyes locked, smiles soft and warm.
He looked at me, voice low, deep, and dominant yet laced with something rare — adoration. "I don't waste words. If I'm marrying you, that should tell you exactly how I want you bound to me. And maybe, if you behave, I'll let myself love you too."
I smiled, mischievous. "You're too proud."
"That's just how I am. Don't like it?"
"I love it." I kissed him, and he instantly deepened the kiss, holding me close like he never wanted to let go. And I wouldn't let go either.
His way of love was keeping me bound to him, and I wouldn't want it any other way.
Because one day, that way, I'd make him say those magical three words. But even if he never did, it didn't matter that much.
Our hearts already collided — pounding together.
Feeling his steady yet loud and fast heartbeat against mine, I felt a surge of pride.
I had finally made the great Karthiel Coldmere — the man with no emotion, the man with the steel heart — a proper human, with a proper heart that beats only for me.