Thunder rattled the windows, and the instant lightning flashed, it froze Ethan’s sharp, almost boyish face in the harsh light. That’s when it hit me again – despite his usual tough-guy act, he was actually six or seven years younger than me. “You’re spacing out,” Ethan murmured, grabbing my shoulders. He buried his face in my neck, nuzzling me like a big puppy, then whispered huskily, “Wife.” I started to tell him not to call me that, but he didn’t give me a chance. Cupping the back of my neck, his lips found mine. He held me tight, almost desperately, pinning my wrists until they ached. A small, blurry moan escaped my throat against my will. It didn’t even sound like me… it was embarrassingly breathy. Ethan felt like a furnace against my skin. Tangled up with him, his heavy breathing ghosted across my ear. The heat made me dizzy, my mind hazy as I let him nuzzle against my chest again, still like that eager puppy. His lean, strong arms snaked under me, lifting my hips off the bed only to press me down again, harder this time. “Could you maybe… ease up a bit?” I turned my head, dodging another sticky kiss. “It hurts…” “No pain, no pain, my bad…” Ethan whispered, his fingertips gently kneading my earlobe as if to soothe me. The pressure lessened slightly. “Bite me if you need to blow off steam.” He’d roughed me up, and my whole body throbbed. Another flash of lightning lit the room. Through half-closed eyes, I saw them again – the intimidating ink covering his arms. The warmth that had started building in my chest suddenly flickered out, leaving me cold. “Let’s get a divorce,” I whispered, still fragile in his arms. A loud clap of thunder followed immediately. Ethan instinctively covered my ears. When the noise faded, he pulled me even closer, his voice rough. “No way.” Hearing him refuse didn’t stir much inside me. Maybe I was too tired, or maybe just a little scared of the man beside me. I didn’t argue. Right now, whether we divorced or not didn’t seem to matter much anymore. “I’m broke,” I said after a moment, gathering my thoughts. “How much?” “Fifty thousand, maybe.” Ethan went quiet for a second, then suddenly rolled off the bed, reaching for something on the floor. He was getting his phone from his pants pocket. A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. Was I pushing it too far? It had been almost six months since we got married, and we’d only slept together twice. Both times, I’d asked him for money right after. “Grace,” he said, turning back to me, phone in hand. “I just changed the direct deposit settings for the rent collections. It all goes straight to your account now. You’ll start seeing it hit tomorrow.” I was still processing, just managing a dull “Huh?” “Oh, right, I got you that new SUV today. It’s in the garage,” Ethan added, pulling the comforter higher, making sure my exposed shoulder was covered. “Meant to tell you earlier, but you were just… really enthusiastic tonight—” “Will the rent… cover the fifty thousand?” I cut him off, forcing myself not to get distracted by the sweet talk and expensive gifts. “Probably closer to… a hundred thousand, I think. It’s not a huge amount. If you need more, just ask.” “…Aren’t you going to ask what I need all that money for?” “Why would I? It’s your money, do whatever you want with it. Honestly, it makes me feel better knowing you’ll ask me if you need something.” Ethan was such an idiot. He had no idea that as soon as that rent money hit my account, I was wiring every single cent to Mark – my ex-boyfriend. 2 I married Ethan for the money. It wasn’t exactly a secret. Our families went way back. My dad and Ethan’s dad grew up together in the same old company housing neighborhood. Later, Ethan’s dad got laid off, moved down south, struck gold, and came back to invest heavily in real estate. Suddenly, Ethan’s family were the new money in town. Meanwhile, I was still living with my parents in the old neighborhood, going to school, then getting a regular job. When I was in college, Ethan was just a little kid. Even back then, though, you could tell he was trouble – rebellious, never listened. He barely scraped by in school, always getting into fights. Desperate for extra cash, I’d stupidly agreed to tutor him for a while. That ended with him following me around, calling me “wife.” “Our parents always joked we’d end up together,” he’d declared. “I’m gonna marry you someday.” Can you picture it? Ethan, barely tall enough to see over a counter, like a little sprout, standing there telling me he was going to marry me when he grew up. It felt like a joke. I never thought the punchline would actually land. My dad got sick. Stomach cancer. His and Mom’s life savings wouldn’t even cover the initial treatments. The Li family – Ethan’s family – stepped in with a huge amount of money for the medical bills. They even helped my mom set up a small shop. Honestly, Ethan’s parents never explicitly said I had to marry him. But it was obvious, wasn’t it? Ethan’s dad came to talk to us. Said we didn’t need to worry about paying the money back. Mentioned how much his son liked me. “That old promise our dads made back in the day… maybe it’s time we made good on it, huh?” Once he said that, Ethan and I were practically tied together. Who would’ve thought that me, a modern woman, would end up gritting her teeth and accepting an arranged marriage? And to a kid, basically. Ethan just turned twenty-two. Bleach-blond hair, arms covered in tattoos – he looked exactly like every wannabe tough guy trying too hard. He spent his days collecting rent with a crew of guys who looked just like him. People took one look and crossed the street. There was no way I could ever fall for someone like him. It wasn’t just dislike; I was actually a little afraid of him. When we first got married, I always felt like he was angry, like some kind of gangster. Especially the way he always had a couple of his guys trailing him, sometimes carrying… well, let’s just say they weren’t carrying briefcases. Who wouldn’t be intimidated? After spending more time together, I realized he hadn’t changed much from when he was a kid. Still liked following me around, calling me “wife” or sometimes “sis” in that teasing way. He always put on a stony face for his crew, but with me, he was surprisingly gentle. Even so, I was still wary. Worried that one day he’d snap, fly into a rage, and just… strangle me. Because I had a guilty conscience. 3 After marrying Ethan, I hadn’t completely cut ties with my ex, Mark. Truthfully, our relationship had been falling apart anyway. Even without Ethan showing up, we probably would have broken up eventually. But somehow, Ethan’s presence made it impossible for us to make a clean break. When I tried to end things, Mark wouldn’t let go. Seeing him holding my hand, begging me to stay, I just couldn’t harden my heart completely. After that, we’d chat occasionally, keeping a careful distance. Even though we never crossed any major lines, I was constantly on edge, terrified Ethan would find out. During that time, I lent Mark money a few times. He never paid it back. Then, about two weeks ago, I discovered he actually had a fiancée. The only reason he kept contacting me was for money. For Ethan’s money. When I found out, I felt completely empty, cold. And furious. I hated Mark for destroying the few good memories I had left, for making me live with this constant guilt and anxiety for so long. Once Mark realized he couldn’t win me back, his true colors finally showed. He threatened me. Threatened to use intimate photos he’d taken of me when we were still together, photos I hadn’t even fully known he took. He said if I didn’t give him money, he’d send them to Ethan, my family, my friends. “Grace,” he’d snarled over the phone, “does your husband know you kept talking to me after you got married? If you don’t pay up, I’ll have a nice little chat with him. Let him know exactly what kind of woman he married! What do you think he’ll do then? Break your arm? Your leg?” Mark’s threats worked. No man would stay calm seeing photos like that of his wife. I was scared of Ethan – scared of him knowing I’d emotionally cheated, scared of him knowing about my past and the stupid things I’d done. So, I kept asking Ethan for money to pay Mark off, just to keep him quiet. Because of this, I couldn’t sleep. It felt like there was a ticking time bomb next to me in bed. I knew it would explode eventually. Maybe Ethan would actually kill me. I imagined countless terrible scenarios. But I never, ever imagined that Ethan would be the one to pull me out of this nightmare. He wasn't going to hurt me at all. He was the one who saved me. 4 Ethan came home early that day, his usual crew trailing behind him. I was used to it, just feeling drained as I turned to head upstairs. “Grace, wait a sec.” Hearing Ethan call my name made my stomach drop. It was like a sixth sense. I knew something was about to happen, something involving Mark. “You guys head out. Mikey, wait for my call later.” After sending his guys away, Ethan just stood there at the bottom of the stairs, watching me. I felt his intense gaze on my back. Slowly, I turned around. And saw that Ethan wasn’t alone. Of course. It was Mark. He was lying on the rug, tied up securely, his mouth covered with duct tape. He couldn’t make a sound. The sight made my legs turn to jelly. I grabbed the banister, barely able to stand. Was this it? Was Ethan finally going to make me pay? My head was buzzing. I don’t even know how I made it down the stairs. On the last step, I stumbled, about to fall, but Ethan caught me firmly. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm. He ripped the tape off Mark’s mouth, then gave him a vicious kick. “You wanna die?” I felt like Ethan’s words weren’t just for Mark. They were for me too. A warning, right? Making an example out of Mark? “…Why are you shaking?” Ethan tilted my chin up, gently wiping the sweat from my forehead with his thumb. “You look more scared than this asshole.” I watched as Ethan pulled a small black USB drive from his pocket. He held it up to Mark. “Are all the pictures on this? You didn’t keep any backups, did you?” Mark nodded frantically. “They’re all there! No backups, I swear, no backups…” The next second, Ethan raised his arm – the one covered in that ferocious tiger tattoo – and swung it towards me. So, this was it. No escaping the punishment. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself. But the expected pain never came. I cracked an eyelid open, peering towards Ethan. He hadn’t hit me. Instead, he’d smashed… the USB drive onto the floor. Staring at the shattered plastic pieces scattered on the rug, Ethan still didn’t look satisfied. He lifted his foot and stomped hard on the small, shiny chip inside, grinding it into the carpet. Mark looked terrified, half-collapsed on the floor, eyes squeezed shut. Ethan crouched down, looking down at the man he’d reduced to a trembling mess. He grabbed a handful of Mark’s hair and delivered several hard slaps across his face. “Scared now?” Ethan gripped Mark’s chin, his voice low and dangerous. “You ever mess with my wife again, I’ll end you.” Mark nodded rapidly, stammering apologies to Ethan. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I messed up…” “Apologizing to me won’t cut it. You need to apologize to my wife.” I looked down at the man I’d actually loved for several years, now groveling at my feet like a stray dog, telling me he was wrong, that he was a piece of garbage, begging me to forgive him. Meanwhile, Ethan was on the phone with Mikey, telling him to come get Mark out of the house, saying he was bad luck. Mikey arrived quickly. After Mark was gone, the room suddenly felt incredibly quiet. “Grace,” Ethan said, pulling me abruptly into his arms. “You don’t have to be scared anymore. No one will ever bully you again.” I asked him, my voice trembling slightly, “…Did you look… at those pictures?” He was silent for a long moment, then whispered softly against my ear, “Yeah. I looked.”
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