Seducing Her Husband

The sun streamed in through soft white curtains, warm and golden against the pale sheets. Mia stirred gently, her lashes fluttering before her eyes opened, and for a brief, fragile moment, everything felt still. Peaceful.

Then she remembered what day it was and smiled.

The first day of school.

She turned to glance at the clock on her nightstand. 5:42 a.m. a little earlier than planned, but she was too excited to sleep any longer. She sat up slowly, brushing her dark hair back with a sleepy yawn, and reached for her journal. It was more of a diary, She had fallen asleep when She was pouring out her feelings as usual in the blank pages. It gave her a sense of peace whenever she poured out her deepest feelings. Her journal was kind of her bestfriend, it was her safe space. It had been a while she had written in her journal before last night. Today she decided to write down what she was grateful for to mark the beginning of a new session.

It was a small ritual. Quiet. Personal. Necessary.

Three things I'm grateful for:

1. A new school year with my students

2. The smell of sharpened pencils and tiny finger paint

3. That I still have hope

She hesitated after writing the last line. Her pen lingered, pressing into the paper with unspoken weight. Hope was dangerous. It was the reason she woke up each morning thinking maybe just maybe he'd look at her differently. That he'd see her not just as a contract. Not just a name on paper. But something more.

She closed the journal gently, setting it aside.

Mia loved her job. Teaching children wasn't just work it was her whole heart. They didn't care about last names or contracts or social status. They just wanted someone to listen to their stories and hug them when they cried. With them, she felt seen. Needed. Loved.

It was a sharp contrast to how she felt in her own home.

She slipped out of bed and padded across the cold marble floor to the en suite bathroom. As she brushed her teeth, her eyes caught her reflection green eyes, delicate features, her frame small in the oversized plain nightgown.

Sometimes she barely recognized herself.

By 6:30 a.m., she was dressed in a soft blush blouse tucked into a cream pleated skirt. Modest. Neat. Gentle. She pinned her hair half-up and touched her lips with a hint of pink gloss not because her students would care, but because... he might notice.

Even once.

She slipped downstairs quietly, the house echoing with emptiness. Everything was sleek and modern and far too cold, like the man she married. Still, she knew where to find him.

The kitchen.

Her heart fluttered as she stepped inside and there he was.

Damian Blackwood. CEO of Blackwood International. Only heir of the Blackwood legacy. And her husband of one year.

He stood at the counter, dressed in a perfectly tailored dark navy suit, the sleeves rolled just enough to reveal the silver watch on his wrist. His hair was slightly damp from the shower, and he was sipping black coffee while reading something on his tablet.

He didn't look up.

"Good morning," Mia said softly.

"Morning." His voice was deep and flat, his eyes still fixed on the screen.