KAI'S POV

The bitter bite of black coffee coats my tongue as I flip a page of the automotive magazine in my hand. My focus lingers on Terran Motors’ latest release, their sleek engine lines mocking me from glossy print.

They’ve been basking in the spotlight during my absence. A spotlight they didn’t earn.

It’s going to be fun ripping it back from them—piece by piece.

Stealing my design was their first mistake. The traitor inside my own company who handed it over? That was their second. I intend to make sure both regret it.

I lower the magazine when I hear the soft rhythm of footsteps descending the stairs. Not the heavy stride of staff. Lighter. Bare. Deliberate.

My eyes lock on my barefoot wife. Her tiny foot climbing down the stairs gently, like she's walking on her egg shells. She's wearing nothing underneath. Her pointed nipples strain against thin cotton, visible even under the loose fabric.

She drifts down in oversized pajamas that swallow her frame, her light-brown hair messy, fingers combing through it absentmindedly. She moves like the house itself might break under her feet—delicate, cautious—but every step somehow still demands attention.

A flicker of last night hits me. The way her ass bounced when she danced, hips rolling with careless freedom. The sight burned itself into my brain. I’d had to take matters into my own hands to settle the beast she woke.

I don’t get turned on easily. I can stare at a naked woman and feel nothing. Desire doesn’t control me. I control it.

But with her?

I'm not sure

She lifts her head, and her eyes—those light-brown eyes that mirror her hair—locks into my cold gaze. A challenge sparks there, brief but defiant. Then she rolls her eyes with a sneer before striding to the dining table.

Unbothered. Unafraid.

Like she doesn’t realize who she’s dealing with. She walks with questionable confidence, like nothing scares her.

She notice Danio standing, “Good morning, Dan,” she says brightly, acknowledging my butler.

Danio, ever formal, inclines his head. “Good morning, Mrs. Rodríguez.”

Her lips twitch into disapproval, though she masks it quickly with a smile. “Raquel. Please.”

Danio glances at me, hesitating before correcting himself. “Good morning, Raquel.”

Her smile widens.

I scoff inwardly. She thinks charm will get her somewhere. Not with me.

She slides into a chair, two seats away, her body loose, her posture deceptively casual. But I can feel her eyes on me, measuring me. Like she's trying to see me through.

Inquisitive. Noted.

"“You know,” she says lightly, “having a picture of your wife in your phone wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

My lips twitch into an cold smirk. Bold. Sassy.

Guess I’ll have to tame that.

I return my attention to the magazine, though I can still feel her gaze burning holes into me. Danio sets her plate down, but she waves it off.

“Coffee, please. Black. Lots of sugar.”

I glance up to lock her gaze, her bright eyes staring into mine defiantly which is quite unusual.

Most people shrink under my gaze. They avoid eye contact, afraid of what they might see staring back.

Not her. She meets it head-on, daring me to look away first.

Interesting.

"“Kenzo will take you shopping when you’re done,” I say, setting my mug on the glass table with a decisive clink.

She tilts her head, lips curling. “Don’t worry, hubby. I can handle my own shopping.”

Hubby? I almost laugh.

I drop the magazine and stand slowly, each movement deliberate. “You’re a billionaire’s wife now. You either accept it and live with it… or just live with it.” My voice is cool, sharp. “And buy something decent. I don’t appreciate my employees lusting over what’s mine.”

Her mouth parts, words caught on her tongue. Silence.

Good. Let her chew on that.

Yeah. I might hate this marriage stuff, but that doesn't change the fact that she's my wife. She mine.

I step closer, closing the distance. My fingers graze the edge of the table, knocking a piece of cutlery to the floor. I bend to retrieve it, close enough that my lips brush against her ear when I whisper:

“Just so you don't forget, Buzzbee. We haven’t had our honeymoon"

Her body freeze in place, as she clench her fist hard on the table. Her clench thighs also didn't pass my notice.

Oh, this is going to be so much fun.

I stands fully facing Danio, whose gaze was wisely away from us.

"Tell Diana to meet me in my study" I turn and walk away.

The study lights hum to life at my touch, illuminating walls lined with books and shelves stacked with documents. My sanctuary.

I sink into the leather chair behind my desk, laptop already glowing. Almost immediately, a call comes through. One of our Spanish dealers. I accept.

Mr. Hidalgo’s face fills the screen, his posture stiff, his tie perfectly straight, though the faint twitch of his jaw betrays nerves

Hidalgo: —Un placer verlo, señor Rodríguez. (A pleasure to see you, Mr. Rodriguez.)"

I recline in my leather chair, one arm hanging lazily over the armrest while the other hand toys with a glass of whiskey. I didn't smile back. Just blink before replying

"Señor Hidalgo. (Mr. Hidalgo.)"

Hidalgo swallows hard, adjusting his tie.

Hidalgo: "Me han dicho que ha vuelto… y que esta vez es para quedarse". (I’ve been told you’re back… and this time it’s for good.)

”Eso es correcto. Muy pronto se anunciará la próxima fecha de lanzamiento". (That’s correct. The next launch date will be announced very soon.)

Hidalgo nods quickly, a smile that tries to appear confident but betrays his nerves.

Hidalgo: ”Una excelente noticia. El mercado ha estado… hambriento sin usted. Es un honor tenerlo de regreso." (Excellent news. The market has been… hungry without you. It’s an honor to have you back.)

I lean forward, my eyes fix on the screen like blades, letting the silence hang for a second too long.

"El honor es para quien sabe mantenerse en el juego, Hidalgo. yo… nunca salí de él." (The honor belongs to those who know how to stay in the game, Hidalgo. And I… never left it.)

Hidalgo swallows again, trying to keep his composure.

Hidalgo: "Hasta pronto, señor Rodríguez.(Until next time, Mr. Rodriguez.)”

I nods with a slight movement of my head. The call ends with a sharp click.

A click at the door announces Diana’s arrival. Her white heels cross the threshold.

Without looking up,“You’re late,” I say, eyes still on the screen.

“I’m sorry, boss. Didn’t intend to,” she replies, her voice shaking with nervousness.

I glance up—and nearly laugh. She’s poured herself into a see-through lace dress, jacket slung carelessly over one arm, her bag on the other. Cleavage on unapologetic display, like a museum art.

She has guts, walking into my manor dressed like this. But guts won’t save her.

K.A. stands firm because I built it with iron rules. One of those rules: business and pleasure never mix. I don’t fuck my employees. Ever.

“Where are the documents I requested?”I requested coldly

“Right here.” She fishes out a file and hands it over, her fingers brushing mine as she hands it over.

I skim through the list—Names of every employees in my company. She could have easily emailed it, but I needed it hand-delivered, so we can also work on my next project. Only for her to show up with this level of incompetence.

My gaze never leaves the list. My voice is stern. “I want your resignation letter on my desk by the end of today. Your compensation will be sent once I receive it."I declare coldly.

She immediately went on her knees trying to beg, but a sharp glare from my me sent her standing and scurrying off.

I turn back to my laptop. Now I have to look for a new competent secretary.

I scroll through the digital applicant files on my laptop, reviewing last year’s submissions before we went on a break One name hooks my attention.

Intelligence quotient: 99.9%

The name beneath makes my eyes darken.

Raquel Milton.

My gaze shifts to the bank of security monitors lining the far wall. Every corner of this manor playing on the screen.

Including my wife that's pacing outside my study door.

I stands up from my seat and walk up to the door.

I pull it open.

She gasp in surprise,eyes wide, caught mid-step.

I didn't allow her to suck in the surprise as I grab her wrist, and pull her into the study.

Before she can take another step, I slam the door shut with my hand and pin her against it, my palm closing around her throat. Her back hits the wood with a soft thud. I can feel her pulse hammering beneath my fingers.