Carrying his luggage, Lucian drifted through the streets and alleys like a lost soul — pitiful and alone. Even the cool summer breeze felt sharp and merciless, biting at every inch of his skin.
After picking up a few cans of beer at a convenience store, Lucian found a nearby plaza with benches and sat down, sipping slowly. The beer was ice-cold, but all he could taste was bitterness.
Lucian was an orphan. He'd grown up in Solviva City but had no family to speak of—only the old headmaster at the orphanage had shown him kindness, even spending his own money to send Lucian to school. But in his final year of high school, despite being a top student in the city's most prestigious school, Lucian discovered something that crushed his pride: the headmaster, now over sixty, had been scavenging in his spare time to afford Lucian's tuition. The revelation stung the proud teenager deeply. In a fit of emotion, Lucian quit school just before the college entrance exams, enraging the headmaster so badly he nearly beat Lucian half to death.
"You'll never amount to anything, you damn loser!" the old man had roared, trembling with rage.
Lucian never blamed him. If he were in the headmaster's shoes, he might've done worse.
After that, Lucian joined the army and became a soldier. He quickly rose through the ranks due to his exceptional performance. His superiors praised him as a once-in-a-decade military talent worth cultivating. But good fortune didn't last. During a military competition, Lucian, a heavy favorite to win, crippled the son of a powerful officer in a moment of impulsive fury—an arrogant brat known for his foul reputation. The fallout was immense. If not for the protection of a trusted commander, Lucian would've ended up in prison for years.
Still, his military career was over. He was just nineteen.
Lucian left Solviva behind and traveled overseas with only one goal in mind: money.
The orphanage was falling apart, and the aging headmaster wouldn't last much longer. Without a large injection of funds, the place—small as it was—would collapse entirely, along with the old man's lifelong efforts.
By chance, Lucian met several like-minded individuals: Bear, Eagle Eye, Cannon, Weisen, and Lisa. Together, they formed a mercenary team, risking their lives across the globe to earn money.
Over the next five years, they ventured through tropical jungles and scorching deserts. Bullets flew, shells exploded—they never backed down. They fought not just for survival, but for their dreams. They made enemies. They helped the oppressed. They left a mark.
Lucian sent money to the orphanage anonymously, and over time, the run-down place that once housed a dozen children became Solviva's most renowned charitable orphanage. The headmaster received widespread acclaim, hailed as the city's greatest philanthropist. The old man was so happy, he often laughed himself awake at night.
Two months ago, after one final mission, Lucian called it quits. He divided his savings into thirty portions and set them up to be deposited annually into the orphanage. Even if the headmaster lived to a hundred, he'd have no shortage of funds—or ego. And if the old guy shamelessly lived to 110...
Well, Lucian had no intention of running around earning money as a senior citizen.
Unknowingly, Lucian finished his last beer, lit a cigarette, and chuckled to himself. "If the old man ever finds out I was the one funding him all these years... Would he fall to his knees, clutch my leg, and beg for forgiveness?"
The thought made him laugh like a madman.
"See that? That's what happens when you don't study hard. You end up homeless and mentally unstable like him," a mother lectured her five-year-old son with grave seriousness. "Son, you'd better make something of yourself. If you turn out like him, don't blame me for cutting ties!"
She dragged the boy off toward KFC.
"Am I really that bad?" Lucian muttered as he smoked. "Back in high school, I was the top student, admired by every girl in class. Judging by your chubby kid, he might not even live as well as I did."
But reality hit hard—where would he sleep tonight?
A hotel?
Lucian's wallet was emptier than his stomach. He'd poured everything he had into the orphanage. Forget fancy hotels—even a fifty-dollar motel was out of the question.
As he was racking his brain, he caught sight of that damn private investigator again, still following him from a distance. His irritation flared.
"Seriously? Again?"
Whether it was the humiliation of being seen in such a sorry state or just plain frustration, Lucian hurled an empty beer can in the guy's direction.
"Ow!"
The PI yelped and fled, vanishing into the crowd.
"Love spying, huh?" Lucian picked up his bag, a devilish grin curling his lips. "Then let me give you something worth watching."
---
10:00 PM.
Seraphina finally wrapped up her work for the day. She stretched her tired body and made her way to the kitchen for a light dinner.
She lived alone in a three-story villa in Solviva's upscale district—200 square meters of prime real estate with a breathtaking riverfront view and 40% greenery. Market value: close to eighty million. This was the private residence of Seraphina, the CEO of Kynix Group.
With her obsessive cleanliness and territorial nature, Seraphina never allowed anyone else to live in her home—not even a housekeeper or personal chef. She kept everything spotless on her own.
Because of the late hour, she settled for a simple fruit salad. Just as she was about to eat and watch the financial news, the doorbell rang, sudden and eerie, like a ghost in the night. A flicker of surprise crossed her otherwise composed face.
This wasn't exactly a secret address, but visitors were rare—especially at night. She disliked entertaining guests, and few people had the nerve or status to show up uninvited. She had no social circle outside work. So who could it be?
"Did Julia skip school again?"
Setting down her fork, Seraphina walked to the door, preparing to scold her mischievous half-sister. But when she opened it, her heart dropped.
It wasn't Julia.
It was him—the one man whose mere presence felt like the end of the world.
He stood there, disheveled, holding a filthy canvas duffel bag in one hand and a greasy skewer of grilled meat in the other, a half-burned cigarette dangling from his lips.
With a roguish grin, he said, "As your husband, it's only fair I crash at your place for a year or so. You don't mind, right?"
Before the stunned and horrified Seraphina could react, Lucian strode in, tracking black, muddy footprints across her immaculate, mirror-polished floors.
Lucian strolled into the living room and casually tossed his grimy duffel bag onto the expensive leather couch. His eyes landed on the colorful, appetizing fruit salad on the dining table. Without hesitation, he grabbed a piece with his fingers and popped it into his mouth.
"The dressing's a bit light," he commented as he chewed.
He then set down the charred meat skewer he was holding and plopped himself into a chair by the table. Glancing at the food again, he asked curiously, "Don't tell me this is your dinner?"
His demeanor screamed entitlement—as if this were his home and the deed had his name on it.
Seraphina stood frozen, stunned by the utter violation of her boundaries.
Who gave him the right to come in here? And without even taking off his shoes? He was tracking dirt all over the floor she'd spent her entire weekend scrubbing! And what gave him the right to throw that eyesore of a duffel bag onto her favorite sofa?
And now he was eating her dinner? With his hands, no less?
But the worst part—he was planning to stay?
Seraphina's expression turned icy as she stormed into the kitchen. She yanked open a drawer and pulled out a gleaming kitchen knife. With both hands gripping the handle, she marched toward the dining table and pointed the blade directly at Lucian, who was just about to dig into his late-night snack.
"Get out," she snapped.
Lucian took a slow, satisfied bite of grilled meat, not even bothering to look up. "You know I got kicked out by my landlord."
"Not my problem," Seraphina replied coldly.
"I'm homeless," he said with a sigh, completely ignoring the knife hovering dangerously close to his face. "I can't even afford a hotel."
"That's still your problem!" Seraphina hissed through gritted teeth. "Now get out! Or I'll—"
"Or what?" Lucian interrupted, puffing lazily on a cigarette he had somehow lit without her noticing. "Call the cops?"
"I will!" Seraphina snapped. "And I'll hire a lawyer too! I'll sue you for trespassing and attempted theft!"
"Be serious," Lucian chuckled, clearly amused by her flustered state. "We're legally married. Even if the cops came, I'd just tell them we're having a lovers' spat. Who do you think they'd believe?"
"We are not married!" she yelled, her cheeks flushing in a mix of shame and fury.
Lucian's expression turned somber as he sighed dramatically. "They say the cruelest thing in the world is a woman's heart. Guess it's true. We just signed the marriage contract this afternoon, and you're already pretending I don't exist. You're breaking my heart, babe."
Seraphina trembled with rage, her voice quivering. "I'm warning you one last time—take your junk and get out!"
"Not happening," Lucian replied stubbornly. "If you're going to kick me out, you'll have to kill me first. Go ahead. I won't stop you. Either I freeze to death outside or starve. Might as well make it quick."
Seraphina's eyes widened in disbelief. She was shaking with anger.
Was this guy for real? She'd threatened him with a knife, and he still refused to leave. Was he that determined to stay here?
The very idea was unbearable.
She wouldn't even let friends or relatives stay over for too long, let alone some dirty, tactless man who didn't know the meaning of personal space!
Realizing brute force wouldn't work, she switched tactics and softened her tone slightly. "What will it take for you to leave? If it's about money, I'll give you enough for a hotel."
"You're insulting my dignity as a man," Lucian said sternly, putting on his best offended face. "You think just because you have a bit of money, you can trample all over my pride? I don't roll like that."
Pride? With no money? Why don't you just drop dead?
"Fine," Seraphina said, forcing herself to stay calm. "I'll help you rent an apartment. You can pick the location and amenities yourself."
"I don't like living alone," Lucian said with a sigh, suddenly looking melancholy. "It's cold, lonely, and lifeless. After a long day of work, I want to come home to a warm meal. And if I drag myself in late at night, exhausted, I'd like to see a light left on… just for me."
"Enough!" Seraphina nearly blacked out from rage. Her voice was trembling. "Lucian, are you done with your drama?!"
"I could ask you the same thing," Lucian said, flicking the ash of his cigarette into a handcrafted glass without a shred of guilt. "You forced me into a two-month marriage contract, then stuck me in your cold, joyless company. Don't think I don't know what you're up to—assigning me to the security department just so Zoe could make my life hell. Fine. I can take it. But you? You hired a private investigator to follow me twenty-four-seven. I couldn't even pee in peace. And then you followed me home? What, you think I'm a criminal? Don't forget—it wasn't me who started that night's… incident. If I hadn't stepped in to save you from that creep, you'd have had a way worse night."
Save me? That creep?
You were the creep! And the one who took full advantage!
Seraphina's chest rose and fell rapidly, her fury on the verge of boiling over. And yet, deep down, she couldn't completely deny what he said. That night… wasn't entirely his fault. If she hadn't been careless, she wouldn't have given him the chance.
"You want to keep tabs on me?" Lucian continued. "Fine. I'm right here. Free of charge. No need for a private investigator. And I'll even keep you company at home. Win-win, don't you think?"
He smiled, but his tone turned serious. "Of course, if you really want to make a scene, I'm not afraid to expose the truth about our arrangement. Once that's out, it's over—for both of us. Think carefully."
Seraphina's expression shifted. The fury and hostility in her eyes slowly faded, replaced by a guarded calm.
"You can stay for a few days," she said icily. "But you will find a new place to live. Immediately."
"No problem," Lucian said, backing off just enough to avoid pushing her over the edge.
"And you are not to touch anything in this house!" she added firmly.
"Not even the TV?" Lucian asked, as if genuinely concerned.
"No!" she shouted, her voice cracking. "No TV! No couch! No kitchen! This house is mine, and nothing in it belongs to you! Stay in the guest room—and don't touch a thing!"
Lucian nodded quickly. "Got it. Loud and clear. Won't touch. Won't even look."
"And you are never to go upstairs!" Seraphina snarled, her eyes blazing. "If you so much as set foot on the stairs, I'll kill you!"
"Unless you invite me up," Lucian added solemnly, puffing out his chest like he was swearing an oath. "Otherwise, I won't go near it."
Seraphina saw stars. Invite you upstairs? Are you out of your mind? I'd rather die up there than call for help!
"Alright, negotiation's over." Lucian grabbed another oily skewer and held it out to her with a grin. "Want one? I bet your back's killing you from sitting in the office all day."
If murder were legal, Seraphina would have stabbed him a hundred times right then and there.
Shooting him a look of utter contempt, she turned on her heel and stormed off. A door slammed upstairs, followed by silence.