wife

"Maybe it's because I haven't been laid for a long time. That's why I'm focusing so many feelings on this girl. Yeah, that's it. After dinner, I'll go back to my old self. As long as Grandpa knows I'm married, I'm good."

With this thought, Baris smiled widely, as if he had just discovered a way to solve global warming. To him, it was, in fact, a hard puzzle that he had just cracked. He felt relieved, almost triumphant, as if the simple realization could make all of his confusion and attraction vanish.

Turning to his grandpa, he spoke up, trying to sound casual but confident. "Mr. Coj, I think you should go now. I need to spend some time with my newly wedded wife. The single people should go find some partners too," he said with a cheeky grin, trying to dismiss his grandpa with a wave of his hand.

Surprisingly, it worked. Master Coj chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Yes, yes, sure," he said, standing up and signaling to his driver. "I must give you two time to start making me some great-grandchildren!"

Baris blinked, slightly thrown off by how easily his grandpa accepted the dismissal. He hadn't expected him to leave so willingly, but the mention of grandchildren made him wince inwardly. He wasn't prepared for that, not by a long shot.

Master Coj walked over to me, his expression softening as he kissed my forehead gently. "My daughter, don't mind him," he said with a warm smile. "Just give birth to as many children as you can. That's all I ask."

The comment made me stiffen, my heart racing again. Children? I could hardly wrap my head around being married, let alone starting a family. But I forced a smile and nodded politely, not wanting to stir any suspicions. Master Coj seemed satisfied with my silent response, and with that, he finally left, his driver opening the door for him.

As the door clicked shut behind him, the silence in the room became palpable. Baris still wore that wide grin, though I could sense his mind was somewhere else, likely still riding the high of his "solution" to our strange predicament. He looked at me, his eyes gleaming with something I couldn't quite read—relief, satisfaction, or maybe even amusement.

"Well," he said, breaking the silence, "now that we're alone…" He let the sentence hang in the air, his smile fading slightly as he studied my face.

I didn't know what to say or how to react. The earlier tension between us had shifted, but something still felt off, like an unspoken weight still lingered between us.

"You must know that I do not want children," Baris said, his voice cold and unyielding. "If you ever get pregnant, either by me or anybody else, I shall kill you with my own hands. Stay as far away from me as you can because I am a dangerous man."

His words cut through the air like a knife, and I was struck with sheer terror. The chill of his threat seeped into my bones. Why did he have to be so cruel? I was overwhelmed with confusion and fear, struggling to process the gravity of his declarations.

Seeing the fear in my eyes, Baris pushed his chair closer to me, invading my personal space and making me feel intensely uncomfortable. He leaned in and said, "Listen very carefully. Your job is to be my wife in front of my family and subordinates. Other than that, you take care of yourself and look pretty. You are to have no friends, go nowhere without my permission, and do nothing."

His instructions were a harsh definition of imprisonment. Each word he uttered made me feel like I was sinking deeper into an ocean of despair, much like the Titanic, but in my case, there was no end in sight to this descent. Tears began to flow down my cheeks, betraying my inner turmoil and sadness, even though I tried to stay composed.

"Now, let's go home," he said, extending his hand for me to take.

I stood there, feeling trapped and helpless. "Do I have a choice?" I thought bitterly, as I ignored his hand and moved away from him. His expression remained unchanged, and he allowed me to walk away. We made our way to the car in silence.

The drive back home was a blur. We traveled for a few minutes, the silence between us thick and oppressive. This devil of a man, still somehow maintaining the facade of a gentleman, escorted me to my room once we arrived home. He opened the door for me as though we were a normal couple, playing the part of the dutiful husband. Then, to my complete shock, he leaned down and kissed me on the forehead, his lips lingering for a moment too long.

"Goodnight, wife," he said softly, the tenderness in his voice at odds with the cruelty of his earlier words.

I stood there frozen, trying to process the layers of contradiction that made up this man. How could someone be so cold, so threatening, and yet, in these small gestures, appear so gentle? It was as if I were living two separate realities—one filled with terror, the other cloaked in normalcy.

I assure you, I have never been so confused in my entire life.