Laura Thornton didn't expect Ethan Moore to come back today.

It had been three months since their marriage, and the number of times she'd seen him could be counted on one hand.

She was holding a glass of water while scrolling through her phone, dressed in a simple white slip dress that showed off her slender figure. Her fair skin seemed to almost glow in the soft light.

Just then, the door beeped and clicked open.

Startled by the sudden noise, she flinched. After all, her husband had been missing for a month, and she definitely wasn’t expecting him to appear out of nowhere tonight.

The door swung open, and in walked a tall man in a suit, reeking of alcohol.

Standing almost six-foot-three, his pale skin and confident demeanor radiated an effortless charm that made it hard to look away.

“What are you doing?” Ethan asked casually, leaning against the entrance.

There was something about him—an elegance and composure that no one else could imitate.

With his chiseled features and carelessly half-lidded eyes, those mesmerizing gray irises seemed to pull people in like quicksand.

Laura felt her heartbeat quicken.

He was way too attractive, dangerously so.

Just a little longer and her face would betray her racing pulse.

“I was just drinking water,” she replied softly, avoiding his gaze.

“Drinking water?” Ethan repeated, taking a step toward her with his long legs.Ethan's cold hand rested on Laura's waist, making her gasp as he pulled her into his broad chest. She blurted out, "Ethan..."

His eyes swept over her nightdress, with nothing underneath—a faint smile played on his lips. "Wearing this? Clearly trying to tempt me."

The word "tempt" slid off his tongue in a way that left Laura flustered.

Her cheeks turned pink, lashes dipping low. "Ethan, you've had too much to drink."

This wasn't him—not the Ethan she knew. He was always composed, distant, the type who barely cracked a smile.

Whenever he came home, it was only to crash drunk on the couch for the night before leaving again. He was constantly busy, traveling everywhere for business, rarely stopping long enough to seem like he lived there.

"Yeah," he murmured softly, "I've had too much. I want some honey water."

"I'll make you some," Laura replied, her knees weak from the tenderness in his voice.

What was up with him tonight?

"Ethan, sit on the couch for a bit. I'll make it for you."

He shook his head, exhaustion visible in his furrowed brow. "No, my head hurts."

"Headache again? Let me take you to your room. Come on, I'll give you a head massage," Laura said, helping him back to the master bedroom.

The master bedroom—his room. She stayed in the guest room. That had been his rule: no sharing a room without feelings involved. "Ethan, just lie down," Laura said, steadying the tall man as they stumbled into the house.

After much effort, she managed to get him onto the bed, but his long fingers suddenly grasped her wrist, pulling her down with him.

Ethan was on top.

Laura was underneath.

The position was... suggestive.

Laura's eyes widened in shock. Up close, his elegant and handsome face seemed almost unreal, the kind of appearance that could make anyone's mind blank for a moment.

"Ethan, what are you doing?" she stammered, her cheeks flushed as she pressed a hand against his chest to keep some distance.

"What’s this?" His large hand traced her waist, giving a playful squeeze to the soft skin there.

Laura froze, mortified.

That’s... her little tummy!

Ethan seemed fascinated, even giving it another playful squeeze. Then he reached to lift her nightdress. "How come there’s a little softness here? Wait—are you pregnant?" His words were slurred, his expression dazed with drunken mischief.

Laura's face burned with embarrassment. She slapped away his wandering hand. "That’s just my stomach."

Pregnant? Seriously?

Did her tummy look *that* big? It was just a tiny bit of fluff, okay? Nothing more!

Besides, how would she even be pregnant? They’d never even... done anything remotely close to making a baby!

"Ethan, let go of me right now!" Her voice trembled as she tried to wriggle free, fully aware of how precarious this situation was. "I’ll go get you some honey water!" "Need to end this awkwardness, like, right now."

If something really happened, she feared Ethan might accuse her of taking advantage of him tomorrow!

"You don't like me?" Ethan's gaze fell on her, his eyes hazy yet inexplicably deep and striking.

Laura couldn't take her eyes off him.

Like him?

Well, she couldn't say she liked him, but she didn’t dislike him either.

After all, Ethan had given her a home when she had nowhere to go...

"I..." Laura licked her lips, just about to answer, but Ethan had already let go of her and rolled to the side.

Curled up, he hugged himself, his head slightly lowered. The sharp contour of his face beneath his dark hair was incredibly attractive, yet chillingly distant.

They say people who sleep in a defensive posture like that usually have deep trust issues and lack a sense of security.

Laura watched him for a while.

Ethan, back to his usual aloof self, faced away from her with his back turned. He didn’t utter another word.

Laura felt a pang in her chest. She wanted to reach out to him but hesitated—after all, they weren’t close enough for that.

Honestly, she still didn’t understand why Ethan had married her.

Back then, her grandfather had been diagnosed with liver cancer, and Laura spent every last penny she had on surgery for him. Grandpa had always been kind to Laura Thornton, but her family just couldn’t understand her. They thought she was wasting time on a dying man, so they threw her out of the house.

She was homeless, with only two hundred yuan on her, dragging a suitcase down the street in the middle of the night.

Then, a car pulled up. Ethan Moore stepped out, looking almost otherworldly, and asked, “Do you want to marry me?”

Laura was stunned.

Still, she said yes. Maybe because she felt like she had nothing left to lose anyway.

Looking back now, she realized how reckless she was. If Ethan had been some kind of scammer, she might not have made it out alive.

Lucky for her, Ethan wasn’t a con artist. He took her to an apartment at Xinghepan, and by the next day, they were officially married.

Ethan laid down three rules for their marriage:

One, no intimacy unless they truly loved each other.

Two, she couldn’t question his whereabouts.

Three, she wasn’t allowed to pry into his private life.

Morning came.

The sound of beans being ground into soy milk filled the house. Ethan, resting in bed, frowned in irritation. “So noisy!”

In the kitchen, Laura was rolling rice balls. She enjoyed cooking for herself.

Hearing his complaint, she opened the bedroom door, her face lighting up with a cheerful smile, and said, “Sorry about that! I’m making soy milk—it must’ve disturbed you.”

She closed the door behind her.

Not long after, the door creaked open again. Ethan Moore had always been a light sleeper, and the sound of her footsteps pushed his patience to its limit.

His eyes snapped open.

Those deep, obsidian-like eyes locked onto her with a cold, piercing stare.

Laura Thornton was placing the hangover soup on the bedside table when she felt his gaze. She turned her head, her face illuminated by the morning light, smooth and fair like a peeled egg.

Her eyes were large, with warm amber irises, strikingly vivid and beautiful.

But Ethan's expression looked downright predatory, as though ready to devour her.

Startled, Laura stammered, "I’m sorry, Ethan. I just wanted to bring you some hangover soup. You drank too much last night, and I was worried you’d have a headache when you wake up. Make sure you drink it later."

Ethan glanced at the bowl of soup on the bedside table.

Every time he came home drunk, Laura would massage his temples and prepare hangover soup for him.

Her gentleness always felt like the soft light of dawn—warm and comforting.

But to him, it seemed fake.

When he came home last night, he’d already made up his mind. He was going to ask her for a divorce.