Chapter 13

The estate was at peace.

Daniel liked his home this wa, silent, structured, efficient. Everything had its place, every person a role to play. No complications. No disruptions.

Until now.

Until her.

His wife.

And if she was staying, things needed to be made clear, especially to the people who worked under him.

So here he stood in the hallway, hands in his pockets, watching as the key members of his household staff lined up in front of him. They were already tense, sensing something.

He gave them a slow look.

Pierre, the chef, stood with his arms crossed, a Frenchman. Margaret, the head housekeeper, kept her expression neutral, though her eyes glowed with curiosity. Henry, his estate manager, looked like he had fifty things to do and was mentally prioritizing which ones could wait until after this meeting.

"Right," Daniel began, rolling his shoulders back. "As you all know, my wife has now taken residence here."

A murmur of acknowledgment.

And then Daniel cleared his throat.

"She is to be treated with the highest level of respect," he continued, firmly. "That means no gossip, no judgmental glances, and absolutely no testing her patience." His gaze flickered to Pierre, raising a finger . "That means you."

Pierre placed a hand on his chest,clearly offended. "Moi?"

"Yes, toi," Daniel said dryly. "Try to keep the dramatic sighs and exasperated eye rolls to a minimum when she's around."

Pierre exhaled loudly. "Ah, so I am expected to suffer in silence?"

"Yes," Daniel replied.

Margaret cleared her throat. "Sir, with all due respect… is she difficult?"

Daniel gave a slow smirk. "Let's just say she's…still adjusting."

A few of the staff exchanged knowing glances.

"I don't care what opinions you form in private," Daniel continued smoothly. "But within these walls, she is to be given the treatment as my cherished wife."

Pierre blinked. "Cherished, sir?"

Daniel arched a brow. "Yes, Pierre. Cherished. Adored. The love of my life. The very woman I would move mountains for."

A silence followed.

Then Pierre sniffed. "Ah. So this is it."

Daniel's smirk widened. "Yeah. Glad we're on the same page."

Margaret quipped in. "Of course, sir. We'll be sure to treat her accordingly."

Daniel nodded. "Good. That means no careless words, no prying questions, and certainly no comments about how she doesn't smile enough."

Pierre sighed dramatically. "There goes the entertainment for the week."

Daniel shot him a warning glance. "And one more thing, she forgets to eat. Make sure she doesn't."

Pierre spoke up. "Does she have any preferences?"

Daniel hesitated. "She won't say it, but she has a sweet tooth. And coffee. Always have coffee available and chocolates. Lots of em."

A nod from the chef.

Then Henry, the estate manager, took a step forward. "Sir, about the heating system—"

Daniel sighed, already pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fix it, Henry."

"We'll need to enter some rooms and….."

Daniel waved a dismissive hand. "Fine. Just do what needs to be done. You do not have to tell me about it and to everyone, you can go back to what you were doing. I'm sorry to have taken a bit of your time."

With that, he turned and strode toward his office.

He needed a distraction.

*****

Daniel had been working for hours. Calls with investors, meetings with his legal team, restructuring contracts, his head was buzzing with lots of numbers and strategies. He needed a break, so he left his office and headed toward the kitchen, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up as he moved.

Then he heard it.

A soft thud, followed by an irritated hiss.

His brows furrowed as he turned toward the staircase at the living room.

Regina was there.

Stumbling and a startling scene to his eyes.

For a moment, he assumed she was drunk and wanted to leave until she clenched her fists and snapped, "Shut up."

To herself.

Daniel stilled. His muscles tensed.

Before he could fully process it, she misstepped, her body tilting forward.

He moved. Fast. Very fast.

His arms caught her just before she could hit the marble floor as her waist was firmly secured in his arms. His fingers threading itself in her clothes so she wouldn't fall or…he wouldn't.

Regina gasped, blinking up at him in confusion.

Her warmth settled against his chest, her scent, vanilla and something floral filling his senses.

Then, as if remembering herself, she squirmed. "Your hands…" She scowled. "Move them."

Daniel arched a brow in confusion. Was she bipolar. "Would you prefer the floor?"

She muttered something he couldn't hear.

"Hmm?" His grip didn't loosen. "Say it louder, sweetheart."

She glared up at him. "Put. Me. The. Fuck. Down."

"No."

Her nostrils flared. "Daniel."

He gave her a lazy smile. "Regina. No."

Her fingers curled into his shirt, more in frustration than anything else. "This—this is not part of the arrangement or our marriage. You stay right over there, not in my business but yours. Do you understand me? If you do, you will let go of me."

Daniel shifted slightly, adjusting his grip. "Are you always this difficult when someone is trying to help you?"

"I don't need your help," she snapped.

"Says the woman who nearly broke her neck two minutes ago."

She huffed. "You're enjoying this."

"Immensely."

Her head fell back against his chest with a groan. "You're unbearable."

"And you're still in my arms. Alive which you are clearly not grateful for."

Regina let out an exasperated sigh but stopped arguing, likely realizing that fighting him was pointless.

Daniel getting the memo carried her up the stairs in his arms effortlessly, his grip firm but careful. When they reached the master bedroom, he nudged the door open with his foot and stepped inside.

Lowering her onto the bed, he watched as she immediately tried to sit up, but exhaustion weighed her down.

He turned and switched off the lights, casting the room in darkness.

Then, he locked the door.

The soft click made Regina tense. "Why are you locking the door? And what are you still doing here?"

He ran a hand through his damp hair. "Because I don't trust you not to go wandering around and injure yourself again."

Regina turned on her side, glaring at him. "This is not part of our arrangement, you know?"

Daniel sighed, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt. "I'm too tired to argue, Regina."

"You weren't too tired when you carried me up the stairs."

He smirked. "Would you like me to do it again?"

She let out an irritated noise, snatching the duvet and cocooning herself in it.

Daniel climbed into bed, stretching out. "Get some sleep."

Regina, still buried under the covers, muttered, "Fine. But don't touch me."

He chuckled under his breath. "Relax. You're not my type. I have made that clear. Several times."

That earned him a sharp kick beneath the covers.

Daniel winced. "That hurt."

A moment of silence passed before he spoke again, his voice softer this time.

"If you need to see a psychiatrist, there's no shame in that," Daniel muttered. "You were talking to yourself, tripping over the stairs, and looking like you're being haunted by something only you can see or hear. If there's something clawing at you from the inside, maybe it's time you stop pretending it isn't there."

Regina didn't respond.

Instead, she turned her back to him.

Daniel huffed. "Rude. You're not supposed to turn your back on your spouse in bed."

Regina scoffed, eyes still shut. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I miss the official handbook on 'How to Be a Dutiful Wife to a Pain in the Ass'?"

"Yes, actually," Daniel shot back. "Chapter five: Always face your husband in bed. Chapter six: Compliment him at least three times before sleeping."

She let out a dry laugh. "Let's compromise, shall we. I'll pretend you don't exist, and you'll stop talking."

Daniel sighed. "And to think I carried you up those stairs like a devoted spouse. My arms are still sore, by the way."

"Cry me a river," she muttered, tugging the duvet higher.

He propped himself up on one elbow, watching her with a smirk. "You know, most wives would kill to be in bed with me."

Regina finally cracked an eye open. "And yet here I am, surviving and not killing herself over you."

Daniel barked a laugh. "You wound me."

"Then go to sleep, and maybe you'll heal."

He exhaled, shaking his head. "Not until you turn around."

Regina groaned. "Why?"

"Because it's weird."

"Weird?"

"Yes, weird," he insisted. "It's like sleeping next to an uninterested log."

"I am an uninterested log."

"Logs don't talk back."

She exhaled sharply, finally rolling onto her back, meeting his gaze with a fake smile plastered on her face. "There. Happy?"

His smirk softened just. "Getting there."

She narrowed her eyes. "Don't push it."

Daniel chuckled. "Night, Wifey."

She sighed, eyes fluttering shut. "Night, Daniel."

And despite everything, despite the chaos that was Regina….

He slept, too.