The Master of Sweet-Talking His Wife

"Mr. Howard," a maid suddenly appeared in the hallway, addressing Howard.

Howard turned his head towards her, exhaling smoke, and gestured for her to speak.

"Should we prepare dinner?" The maid asked hesitantly. Alex usually didn't dine at home, and today he had returned earlier than usual, leaving the household staff unsure of what to do.

"No need. He's likely already eaten," Howard replied in his usual cold and indifferent tone.

The maid was left confused by the ambiguous response but was too flustered to ask for clarification. Embarrassed, she quickly followed up, "Would you like something prepared for you?"

"No, you all can go rest."

"Y-yes, sir," the maid stammered before hurrying away, not daring to linger a second longer.

Howard remained unfazed throughout, his expression unchanging as he lazily puffed on his cigarette, once again turning his gaze out the window. His thoughts seemed distant, possibly occupied by Rick. After a moment, his frustration showed as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, his irritation simmering just below the surface, barely contained.

Time passed slowly as Howard leaned against the wall, chain-smoking. Usually, at this time, he would be accompanied by someone who never stopped chattering, no matter how much he yelled at them to be quiet. Now, however, the silence felt oppressive, unfamiliar, and unsettling.

"Damn it," Howard muttered under his breath, clearly annoyed.

Inside the room, Alex lay beside Mark, holding him close and showering him with praise. "My wife is so good," he said, planting a kiss on Mark's forehead.

Mark's face flushed deeply, and he lowered his head, too embarrassed to meet Alex's gaze.

Actually… it's not so bad, Mark thought to himself, feeling a mix of confusion and embarrassment.

No, wait, this isn't normal! He quickly covered his face, overwhelmed by the urge to hide. Mark, what happened to being straight? You're wrapped around his finger now!

Mark berated himself internally. If someone had told him when he first met Alex that he would end up as his bona fide wife, he never would have believed it. But now, here he was, completely under Alex's spell.

"What's wrong, wife?" Alex asked, noticing that Mark hadn't said anything and was covering his face.

After a moment, Alex realized what was happening and chuckled. "Are you blushing?"

"Shut up! I don't want to talk to you," Mark snapped, immediately pulling the covers over his head, hiding his face that was now as red as a boiled shrimp.

"Alright, I'll shut up," Alex agreed, humoring him as he gently patted Mark's head through the blanket.

Mark bit his lip, remaining silent, caught between anger and embarrassment. He was mostly angry with himself for being so easily swayed.

Mark felt like crying. It hadn't even been that long, and now he had truly become Alex's wife. This bastard, this jerk, with his good looks and his tenderness—was it all just a trick?

In his frustration, Mark blamed Alex for everything.

"Don't be mad, wife. How about I give you a house? Would that make you happy?" Alex offered.

At the mention of a house, Mark's ears perked up like a little rabbit's. He peeked out from under the blanket, looking at Alex skeptically. "Are you really giving me a house?"

The thought of having his own home was too tempting for Mark, especially since he had never had a place to call his own. Alex knew this, which is why he used the offer to soothe Mark.

"Of course, your husband has plenty of money," Alex said generously, smiling as he leaned down to kiss Mark.

Mark's mood immediately improved. Getting a house out of this deal made it seem like he wasn't losing out on anything. Plus, fulfilling his marital duties wasn't so bad—definitely worth it.

Seeing Mark so happy, Alex thought to himself that his wife was really easy to please. Trick him like this in the future? No problem.

"Wife, since your husband is giving you a house, don't you think you should show some appreciation?" Alex teased, sitting up and effortlessly pulling Mark back into his arms.

"Appreciate my ass, you're the one taking advantage of me," Mark shot back, not falling for it. He pushed Alex's face away, refusing to let him get too close.

"Let go of me," Mark insisted, continuing to push Alex away, though his voice had softened, taking on a hint of sweetness.

"But wife, I'm injured. It hurts," Alex complained, wincing slightly.

Mark immediately stopped, having forgotten about Alex's injuries. "Then go get your wounds treated! Hurry up!" he urged, now more concerned about Alex's well-being. He tried to pull away, but Alex's grip on his waist tightened.

"Why are you still holding onto me? Go get your injuries taken care of!" Mark scolded, giving Alex a few gentle smacks on the chest but not using too much force this time.

Alex noticed this and couldn't help but smile. He wasn't sure if he had truly won Mark over, but Mark's concern for him suggested that he had made a place for himself in Mark's heart.

Why is he smiling at me like an idiot? Doesn't his wound hurt? Mark thought, exasperated, rolling his eyes at Alex.

But Alex just kept smiling quietly, his hand coming up to caress Mark's face, his fingers gently tracing the soft, smooth skin.

Mark was puzzled, staring back at Alex in a daze, not understanding why he was suddenly so quiet.

"Doesn't your wound hurt?" Mark asked, his big, clear eyes filled with concern.

"As long as you're okay, what's a little pain?" Alex replied, leaning down to kiss Mark's lips softly, then again, his eyes brimming with affection.

Mark wasn't blind; he could clearly see the love in Alex's gaze. Does this guy really like me that much? Mark wondered, his eyes locked on Alex's face.

But the longer he stared, the more embarrassed he became. He quickly looked away, covering his mouth as his face turned red and his heart began to race.

Damn it, Mark! Why are you so nervous? You see this face every day! Mark scolded himself, feeling a rising sense of panic as his heart beat wildly, as if it was trying to leap out of his chest.

Calm down, Mark. Just because he's handsome doesn't mean you should give in to him! Mark took a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

He sneaked a peek at Alex through his fingers, his face still burning with embarrassment. 

Alex, noticing Mark's behavior, raised an eyebrow in question. 

Mark, of course, wasn't about to explain. He quickly dropped his hand, cleared his throat, and tried to act nonchalant. "I was just looking at you, that's all."

"Oh? No other reason?" Alex asked, smirking as he gave Mark's waist a playful squeeze.

"Of… of course not! What other reason could there be? Can't I just look at you?" Mark tried to maintain a confident front, but his stuttering gave him away.

Alex didn't know what had Mark so flustered, but seeing him like this felt like a good sign.

"Now go get your wounds treated," Mark urged again, his face still flushed.

Alex wanted to go, but with Mark's face turning red every few minutes, how could he? 

"Wife, it's not good if you keep blushing like this," Alex said seriously, trying to suppress a grin.

Mark was left speechless, unable to fathom what ridiculous thoughts were running through Alex's mind.