She had never known that Bradley had such a homely side to him.

Stripped of his usual seriousness and aloof demeanor, the man in front of her exuded charm from every pore.

She had to admit, she preferred this version of Bradley.

Yet, his striking handsomeness and commanding presence sometimes stirred feelings of jealousy within her.

During her leisure moments, Freya often found herself examining the photos on the wall.

She hadn't realized just how many times she and Bradley had been photographed together.

All the scenes depicted were at home, captured from similar angles, evidently taken without their awareness.

In each photo, she sported a smile, while Bradley gazed at her with affection evident in his eyes.

"These were all taken by Frederick!"

Bradley placed the fruit on the table, noticing her lost in thought by the photo wall, and offered an explanation.

"Oh, so you've had Frederick keeping an eye on my every move?"

Freya snapped out of her reverie, her gaze penetrating as she looked at him.

"It's not surveillance. When I miss my wife, I ask Frederick to take pictures of you and send them to me."

"You talk too much. We spend two-thirds of our time together every day."

"Not enough. I want to be with you twenty-four hours a day."

Bradley said, taking her hand and leading her to the dining table, his voice low and resonant.

"Do you know what day it is today?"

Freya shook her head. "What day is it?"

"It's my birthday."

He said softly.

"Oh, your birthday? Why didn't you tell me?"

Freya was a little taken aback. She had never paid much attention to Bradley's birthday and hadn't anticipated it being today.

"It's okay, I'm telling you now."

He smiled and returned to the kitchen to busy himself.

Feeling guilty, Freya followed him and hugged him from behind. "No, this won't do. It's your birthday, and I haven't even prepared a birthday gift for you. You're busy serving me, and I'm just too inadequate."

"And I haven't even bought a birthday cake. What time is it now? I'll go order one."

She checked the time on her phone, eager to head out.

Bradley stopped her and said, "Frederick has already prepared the cake."

"But I still need to buy a gift."

"The gift is already here."

He raised an eyebrow and gazed at her.

Freya was taken aback. She hadn't arranged anything, so where had the gift come from?

"It's you."

He whispered into her ear with intention. "Nothing compares to having you. As long as you're by my side, it's the best gift I could ask for."

His warm breath enveloped her, leaving a lingering sensation on her cheeks.

Freya blushed as she turned to meet his eyes, "Is that all you desire?"

"Of course not."

He smirked. "Tonight, I want you to surrender yourself to me and give me a child..."

Freya's face flushed even redder. Having a child...

Although she had mentioned it before, she wasn't prepared for it to happen suddenly.

She nervously twisted her fingers and her cheeks blushed.

Noticing her unease, Bradley offered a gentle smile and remarked, "We still have more than an hour before bedtime, so you have time to get ready."

He expertly seared the marinated steak in the pan, filling the room with a mouthwatering scent.

Freya's attention was immediately drawn to the man cooking, finding it impossible to tear her gaze away.

Today, he opted for a dark gray ensemble, giving off a casual yet sporty vibe.

His attire consisted of a simple gray V-neck t-shirt paired with fitted trousers that accentuated his long, slender legs.

Initially clad in white sneakers, he later changed into cotton slippers upon returning home, emanating the comforting aura of a domesticated man.

With his slightly wavy hair neatly styled, his chiseled features were prominently displayed, epitomizing a suave and fashionable gentleman.

Freya was completely entranced by his presence.

Though aware of her scrutiny, the man didn't turn around, allowing her to observe him without interruption.

She relished the opportunity to gaze at him as much as she pleased.

Cooking wasn't his forte, especially when it came to stir-frying.

Given the occasion, he decided to prepare only the steak.

Once the steak was perfectly seared, he plated it and flashed a smile at the little woman behind him.

"Drooling, Freya?"

Freya quickly wiped the corner of her mouth, realizing she wasn't actually drooling.

This man… when did he learn to tease her!

"I wasn't staring at you; I was admiring the steak," she confessed nervously.

The scene just now was so beautiful that she almost believed it was a dream.

If it were indeed a dream, she wished fervently never to wake up from it.

Bradley smiled but remained silent as he served the steak and set the table with wine and a red candle.

Thus commenced a romantic candlelit dinner.

With a gallant gesture, the man pulled out a chair and greeted her with a gentle smile, "My dear wife, please take a seat."

Freya approached him slowly, her heart fluttering nervously, before settling into her chair.

Bradley poured her a glass of wine before returning to his own seat.

Raising her glass, Freya clinked it against his and wished him, "Happy birthday, Honey."

"Thank you, Honey."

They toasted and savored their red wine with elegance.

Thoughtfully, Bradley pushed the steak toward her and surprised her with a red rose delicately placed beside it.

The delectably cooked steak, coupled with the fragrance of the red rose, evoked a dreamlike sense of romance.

"Since when did you become a magician?"

Freya lifted the rose to her nose, inhaling its scent, a lovely blush gracing her face, which hinted at her slight intoxication.

"Only recently."

He took a piece of steak with his fork and offered it to her lips, which she eagerly accepted.

The succulent beef slowly dissolved in her mouth, each bite saturating her senses with the taste of joy.

After dinner, Bradley rose from his seat and disappeared into the adjacent room, only to return holding a guitar.

Freya was momentarily taken aback.

Then she heard him inquire, "What song would you like to hear?"

"You play guitar?"

"Yes, don't you believe me?"

Freya was on the verge of expressing her doubt, but given the multitude of surprises he had already presented her with that day, she reconsidered.

"I trust you. My husband is capable of anything."

Pleased with her praise, Bradley fetched a small stool, seated himself, and began strumming romantic tunes on the guitar.

Freya was once again astonished.

She assumed that Bradley could play the piano, given his aristocratic upbringing and extensive education.

Learning the piano was mandatory for children from esteemed families.

However, she never associated Bradley with a guitar.

His playing was impeccable, his slender fingers effortlessly gliding over the strings, and the romantic melodies he produced seemed to convey his love.

Freya was captivated, her head tilting as she sat in her chair, her gaze filled with unmistakable tenderness as she watched him.

Even after the music ceased, she remained entranced by his deep, melodious voice, unable to snap out of her reverie.

"Did you enjoy it?" He set down the guitar and approached her.

Freya nodded, "Yes, it was lovely."

"Would you like to hear more?"

"Yes, please."

Freya nodded along as he played, from simpler tunes to more complex ones, and to her surprise, Bradley effortlessly outperformed even a professional singer.