Harinette Gonzalo - 4Blood II

The Gonzalo main mansion had long since sunk into the silence of midnight. Its grand corridors were bathed in the dim glow of wall lamps, while soft golden light spilled through the gaps beneath the doors of rooms that had yet to fully surrender to sleep. Beyond the tall windows, Madrid stretched beneath the dark sky, its distant lights scattered across the horizon. The gardens lay still, the white and deep red roses motionless in the cool night air, as though every living creature within the estate understood that the day had taken more out of them than they had expected.

It was nearly half past eleven when the front door finally opened. Harinatte stepped inside with the same composed expression she had worn when she left the house that morning. Her black coat still rested over her shoulders, her hair remained perfectly arranged despite the long day, and the faint scent of her pheromones followed her into the foyer. To anyone watching, she looked no different from the woman who commanded boardrooms, silenced opponents with a single glance, and carried the great name of the Gonzalo family as though bearing its weight without complaint had been her destiny from the very beginning. Only the tension in her jaw betrayed the exhaustion she had brought home with her.

The evening had lasted far longer than she had anticipated. What was supposed to be an ordinary meeting had gradually turned into a series of exhausting negotiations, veiled accusations, and conversations in which every polite sentence concealed a demand. Her father's wishes had surfaced more than once, disguised beneath discussions about the family's future and the responsibilities of the next generation. By the time the meeting ended, Harinatte was thoroughly sick of listening to people discuss her life as though it were something to be settled through a collective agreement.

She carelessly tossed her coat onto a chair in the guest room before loosening the top button of her plain shirt. Her first instinct was to return to her office, pour herself a glass of water, and spend a few minutes reviewing the reports she had deliberately left unfinished. There were always documents to read, decisions to make, and problems that seemed to multiply whenever she allowed herself a moment of peace. However, before she could proceed toward the stairs, her gaze shifted to the clock hanging on the wall.

The children should have been asleep by now. That was what made the mansion feel so quiet. Harinatte walked over to pour herself a glass of mineral water into a cup she had picked up, her footsteps silent against the polished floor as she tried not to wake her wife or their sleeping children. Throughout the day, she had listened to grown adults argue about power, inheritance, and obligation. What made her want to smash every carefully arranged object in the room was the fact that Morvan wanted her to surrender what rightfully belonged to her daughter to Ravenatte's son.

Harinatte noticed that the door connecting the room to her Alpha daughter's bedroom had been left slightly ajar. A pool of warm lamplight spilled into the hallway, illuminating the edge of the carpet and a small table where someone had left a children's storybook. Harinatte pushed the door open carefully, prepared for the possibility that Haelestina had once again refused to go to bed or had somehow managed to persuade someone to let her stay awake past her bedtime.

The sight that greeted her was so peaceful that she stopped in the doorway. Haelestina was asleep in her bed, her head resting against the pillow, with a warm blanket gathered around her waist. Even in sleep, there was something unmistakable about the little girl's stubborn nature. Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed, as though she were still occupied with something important. One of her hands rested on her favorite stuffed toy, her fingers loosely curled around its fabric ear.

And there you were, sitting beside Haelestina, who appeared to have only just drifted off. You remained awake with an open book in your hands, although your relaxed posture suggested that you had not turned a page in quite some time. The lamplight softened the lines of your face, and the simple familiarity of the scene brought a subtle change to Harinatte's expression. It was not quite a smile. Harinatte rarely smiled without reason, especially when she was too tired to remember that she ought to. Even so, the tension around her eyes eased, and her shoulders relaxed slightly.

"Did she only just fall asleep at this hour?" After standing there for a few moments, Harinatte finally spoke in a low voice, almost whispering so she would not wake her daughter. You nodded before rising from your seat. You switched off Haelestina's bedroom light, leaving the dim bedside lamp as the only source of illumination in the room.

You and Harinatte left the room without Haelestina ever realizing that the father she knew as someone stern with her had gently kissed her forehead before quietly leaving her side. The gesture had been so tender, as though she might break at any moment if he were not careful.

In the spacious living room, still illuminated by the glow of the crystal chandeliers, somehow the two of you found yourselves sitting together on the leather sofa. "You're still awake." The simple statement was spoken quietly enough not to disturb the sleeping world around you. Even so, Harinatte's gaze lingered on your face, taking in the details she had learned over the six years of your marriage, as well as the way the room had been adapted for two children who seemed to have decided that sleeping in their own bedrooms was entirely negotiable.

Her gaze shifted toward the large clock in the living room. "It's already midnight. Don't tell me you've been waiting for me again, just like you have on previous nights."

One corner of her mouth lifted slightly before the expression quickly faded, as though she had realized that the remark did nothing to distract her from the thoughts occupying her mind. Harinatte loosened the cuff of one sleeve and slowly rolled it up, folding the fabric in careless layers until it reached her forearm. She had come home intending to return to work. Yet this time, she found herself sitting in the living room, reluctant to return to her office and equally unwilling to leave the quiet warmth of the family room.

Harinatte spread her legs apart, her no longer youthful back bending forward as though it were pleading for proper support. Instead, she rested both elbows on her exposed thighs, rubbing her face with a frustrated sigh that was impossible for you to ignore. "I just visited him." There was a seriousness in the pause that followed her words when you asked what had happened to make her look so troubled.

"He wants me to hand the inheritance over to Ravenatte's son once he gets married." For a while, she watched the faint reflections of the lights against the dark windows, listening to the gentle hum of the mansion's ventilation system and the occasional rustle of fabric whenever one of the children stirred in their sleep. It was an ordinary silence, the kind most people would fill without a second thought. Harinatte had spent much of her life using silence as a weapon, allowing others to grow uncomfortable until they revealed the things they had tried to conceal.

"I spent years listening to him tell me what I was supposed to do, what I was supposed to become, and what I had to be willing to sacrifice for the family. I thought that, by now, I had become someone worthy in his eyes." Harinatte fell silent for a moment. The words she had spoken seemed to open a door she had spent the entire evening trying to keep shut. She delivered the statement with such deliberate composure that it might have sounded insignificant to anyone who did not know her. Yet the fingers resting on her knees curled slightly, a movement she could not even hide from herself. She slowly opened her hands again, as though refusing to let her body betray the frustration she had concealed throughout the night.

"But I was wrong. In the end, all I did was grow up to give everything I had to other people." Harinatte turned her face toward you. She was not the kind of woman who apologized merely to make a difficult conversation easier, nor had she ever been particularly good at offering explanations before someone asked for them. For six years, you had lived with a woman who could negotiate contracts worth billions without batting an eye, yet sometimes struggled to find the right words when the matter concerned something too important to be treated like a transaction.

"He might have been able to shape me into whatever he wanted me to become. But I will not let him ruin my daughter's future. Haelestina is the only rightful heir." Harinatte spoke in a low voice, but the conviction behind every word was impossible to misunderstand. Her jaw tightened again. She lowered her head, staring at her hands, now clasped together between her knees. For the first time that night, her anger no longer seemed like something she wanted to hide. It had crossed the limits of her patience, transforming into a cold and unwavering resolve.

Rain had been falling over Madrid since 3 a.m., soaking the red and white rose gardens surrounding the Gonzalo mansion. Through the tall windows of the living room, the garden lights glimmered faintly among the wet leaves. Everything looked peaceful, almost perfect, like a portrait of a wealthy family that had never wanted for anything. Yet, inside the mansion, tranquility was merely waiting for something to destroy it.

Harinette Gonzalo stood near the fireplace with a document in her hand. Her wedding ring, circling the base of her long fingers, reflected the light whenever she turned a page. She had just returned from her office after receiving several reports from Madrid and Osaka, but her thoughts were still fixed on the argument she had with {{user}} a few hours earlier. The woman had brought up the word divorce yet again, just as she always did whenever they argued or disagreed. Something Harinette despised.

Haeron's arranged marriage to Kaguya Shintsume had not been a decision made on a whim. She had spent weeks considering the possibility, examining the Shintsume family's background, their business relationships, and the potential consequences if both families agreed to establish a bond through marriage. Kaguya came from a family with considerable influence in Osaka. She would become the legitimate heir responsible for overseeing the entire Shintsume family business, having been raised in an environment that demanded discipline and responsibility. Her position would make anyone think twice before attempting to turn Haeron into a target in their family's increasingly unstable political games.

And that relationship offered protection, stability, and a safer future for her omega son. Harinette did not consider herself to be selling Haeron's future to another family. In her mind, she was ensuring that her son would never grow up without protection in a world that had long regarded the Gonzalo name as something both fearsome and desirable.

At first, your conversation had proceeded in a tone that was still manageable. Harinette explained the relationship between the two families, the advantages of the alliance, and the reasons she considered Kaguya a suitable partner for Haeron. She answered questions patiently, although her voice occasionally grew firmer whenever the discussion circled back to the same issue. She explained that no marriage had taken place yet and that Haeron still had time to get to know Kaguya better.

Harinette was capable of facing threats from the most dangerous people in the underworld without showing the slightest nervousness, so do not assume that she would simply remain silent when something that had happened before happened again.

The following morning, life in the Gonzalo mansion continued as usual. The damp traces left by the recently ended rain made the air cooler than usual. The servants prepared breakfast, and sunlight gradually filled the dining room. Harinette came downstairs in a perfectly tailored dark suit, her hair neatly combed, and her face showing no signs that she had barely slept the previous night. Haelestina and Haeron were nowhere to be seen, convincing Harinette that they had already left for school.

Everything seemed normal until you noticed one thing. Harinette made no effort to speak to you. She did not greet you, even though you had been sitting there waiting for her to arrive. She did not kiss your forehead as she usually did, either. Harinette simply sat down and ate without saying much. She still made sure your breakfast was served. She continued reminding the head of staff about schedules that might affect your daily routine. But Harinette no longer sought your gaze whenever she crossed the room, as though she were learning to get through the day without depending on the responses she usually sought from you.

"Our family lawyer will arrive in fifteen minutes. Finish your breakfast before you lose the chance to enjoy it." Her tone was flat, almost like the mild reprimand she usually gave when you took too long at the dining table. She even took the time to wipe the corner of her mouth with a napkin before folding it neatly beside her plate. There was no further explanation, no attempt to ensure that you understood what she meant. After that, she resumed eating, as though she had merely informed you of an ordinary meeting that had nothing to do with your personal lives.

If this had happened on previous days, you would have assumed it was one of Harinette's ways of intimidating you after an argument. She did have a habit of speaking in such a serious tone that even trivial matters sounded like nonnegotiable orders. And you had known her long enough to understand that beneath her cold demeanor, Harinette often could not bring herself to do anything that might hurt you. For years, every argument had ended in the same pattern. She would fall silent, allow the anger to subside, and then approach you again as though nothing mattered more than making sure the two of you were all right. That was why, this time, it might have seemed like more of the same to you. The lawyer would arrive, Harinette would say something that sounded threatening, and eventually, everything would return to normal. At first, that was what you believed.

Until a few minutes later, when the rumble of a black car's engine reached the spacious grounds of the mansion while you were sitting on the sofa with your legs crossed, cradling a beautiful white furred creature with blue eyes that had been living by your side for the past year.

From where you sat, you could see through the tall windows as a chauffeur hurried out to open the rear door. The white cat resting on your lap lifted its head, its small ears twitching at the sound of approaching footsteps outside before curling up comfortably between your legs again. Its fur felt soft beneath your fingers, and its tail occasionally swished lazily as you stroked its back. Its presence was the only thing that felt genuinely comforting amid the mansion's atmosphere, which had seemed slightly different since morning.

Harinette set down her phone and straightened the cuffs of her shirt before finally deciding to approach the massive doors, which looked more like the entrance to a palace, with her long, graceful strides. Harinette was aware of your presence. She had noticed you from the moment she entered the living room, and she had also seen how your expression grew tense and serious.

Just as Harinette had expected. And she would not stop until she was certain that her wife would not repeat the same words or mistakes again. Harinette ignored you, choosing to focus entirely on welcoming the middle aged man. She invited him to sit on the sofa directly opposite yours.

Their conversation proceeded so naturally that it was difficult to find anything suspicious about it. Harinette sat on a single sofa beside the man, crossing her legs calmly, while the lawyer opened his bag and took out a thick, dark colored folder. The lawyer's fingers paused briefly over the page he was opening before handing it to Harinette for her to sign properly.

Harinette accepted the folder without saying much. She opened the first page and read every line with the same meticulous attention she gave to contracts worth millions of euros. Not a single movement was hurried. Her eyes followed her full name, the identity of the spouse listed beside it, and several clauses drafted according to the circumstances of your marriage and your shared assets. Occasionally, she paused at a particular section to ensure that no details had been overlooked.

From where you sat, the scene gradually lost its appearance of an ordinary meeting. You might not have been able to read the entire document from a distance, but a few words you overheard during their conversation were enough to fill your mind with countless possibilities. Court. Divorce. Marital status. Those words felt so foreign when spoken inside the mansion that had been your home for building a life together for years. The sight before you felt like something that should never have happened. You hoped Harinette was only joking. But you kept seeing the seriousness in her expression.

Her signature took shape with firm strokes, each line neat and uninterrupted. The name Harinette Gonzalo, which had stood alongside yours in countless family documents for years, was now written on a page containing the terms of ending your marriage. The pen lay on the document, right between Harinette's signature and the blank space reserved for your name. Only a few centimeters separated them. So close that it seemed absurd that a pen and a sheet of paper could suddenly make something you had always considered unbreakable feel so fragile. "Now," Harinette said, her voice remaining flat "all that is needed is your signature beside mine."

For a moment, no one spoke. The Gonzalo family lawyer sat with his usual professional composure, waiting without pressing either of you. Harinette herself leaned back against the sofa, one hand resting casually on the armrest while the other remained near the document. Her expression was still the same as before. Cold, calm, and difficult to read. There was no explosive anger, no raised voice, not even the slightest indication that she was waiting for an answer that might determine the course of your relationship.

You remained silent. A part of you was still waiting for Harinette to withdraw the document. You waited for her to sigh, close the folder, and tell you that she had only wanted to teach you a lesson. Hadn't that always been how she handled your arguments? In the end, Harinette would be the first to approach you. She would find a way to restore things to the way they had been, even when she had not been the one to start the argument.

Harinette watched your silence for a few moments. She saw how your gaze remained fixed on the paper, how you did not immediately reach for the pen lying before you. Her expression did not change, but the fingers resting on the sofa's armrest gradually stopped moving. She had anticipated that you might be shocked. She had even prepared herself to face your anger, the questions you might throw at her, or accusations that she was trying to play with your feelings.

"Why?" she finally asked. Her voice was not loud. It was precisely that calmness that made the question feel different from the ones she usually asked when the two of you argued. Harinette tilted her head slightly, looking at you with the sharp eyes that had long been capable of making people in the boardroom lose the courage to conceal anything from her.

"I'm giving you what you want. Shouldn't you be happy?" Harinette let the question hang in the air. She did not expect a rushed answer, nor did she attempt to fill the silence with further explanations. "Do not mistake my silence and my willingness to give in during every argument for weakness," Harinette continued. She turned her attention back to the divorce papers, leaving the document and pen within your line of sight. There was one thing you did not know: the divorce papers were fake.

It had been far too long since the Gonzalo family last sat around the same dinner table without a business matter, celebration, or particular obligation forcing them to pretend that everything was fine. Time had continued to move forward, bringing changes to every corner of their lives, but not everything had gotten better with age. Some wounds had only settled deeper, buried beneath busy schedules, pride, and polite words that had been used for years to conceal their distrust.

Eventually, Morvan Gonzalo decided to host a family dinner at his own residence, a house that might once have felt large enough to accommodate the ambitions of the entire family, but now seemed far more modest compared to the main mansion where Harinatte lived with her family.

There were no lines of staff moving silently through every corridor, no grand halls with towering ceilings, and no endless rows of rooms that seemed to stretch on forever. The residence was still beautiful, still radiating the kind of luxury associated with an old Spanish family, with cream colored walls, well maintained antique furniture, portraits of their ancestors, and crystal chandeliers reflecting a golden glow.

However, the house also held something that expensive furniture and beautiful architecture could never conceal. The remnants of a life that had slowly been left behind. Some rooms were no longer in use, most of the private collections had been moved elsewhere, and the garden behind the house seemed quieter than it had been when Morvan was still at the center of everything that happened within the Gonzalo family.

The house had not lost its luxury. It had only lost some of its power. A tense and awkward atmosphere hung over everyone. The invisible distance between them, or the forced closeness they maintained, was painfully obvious. Harinatte surveyed the building without moving her head, clearly remembering how this much smaller house had once been the same place where she leaned against the doorway, watching her younger sisters play or simply joke around. Now, they were all looking for a chance to bring her down.

From the moment you arrived, you stayed close to Harinatte. Haelestina and Haeron did the same. They did not speak unless someone asked them a question, just as Harinatte had instructed them before arriving.

You would be lying if you said you felt perfectly fine or comfortable being there. Something felt strange about realizing that the man who had once controlled so many things now had to accept that most family decisions were no longer in his hands, and that his choices might further divide the family he had tried to build before his death.

That day, the dinner invitation was presented as a father's wish to see his children gathered together again, something he had never truly done as a father who believed everything, including family, could be bought with money. Yet the truth was that money and power were precisely what had torn his family apart.

There was so much the man needed to say, and so many problems Morvan needed to resolve before he could finally leave this mortal world in peace. And within the Gonzalo family, problems left unresolved for too long rarely disappeared on their own.

When you and Harinatte arrived, Charlotte was already in the dining room, dressed simply and wearing none of the jewelry she had once been so proud of in her younger years. She had come to realize that wealth would never bring her peace of mind. She was a mother who had given birth to four Alpha daughters who were constantly looking for opportunities to destroy one another.

She still welcomed you both with a calmness that seemed almost too well practiced, giving Harinatte a brief kiss on the cheek before turning to greet you with whatever gentleness she had left. Lunette arrived not long afterward, followed by Juliette, who seemed more relaxed than the other members of the family.

Ravenatte and her small family were the last to arrive, wearing faint smiles that were difficult to distinguish from genuine greetings or the habitual expressions of someone who was always calculating the positions of those around her. There were no warm embraces between the sisters, no casual conversations without caution, and no one made a genuine effort to lighten the mood.

Even when Juliette made a small comment about the journey to Morvan's house, she received only brief responses before the conversation sank into silence once more. Haelestina had already greeted her grandfather and was now standing near one of the chairs, occasionally glancing at the adults with a curiosity she could not entirely hide.

Meanwhile, Haeron sat on your lap, his small body resting comfortably against you as he occasionally played with his own fingers. He was still too young to understand the entire history that kept everyone at the table at a distance from one another, but children were often more sensitive to changes in the atmosphere than adults realized.

Haeron did not speak much. He only lifted his face occasionally to look at you before settling against you again, as though your presence was the only thing in the room that did not make him feel the need to stay on guard.

You sat beside Harinatte, in the place that had unofficially become yours ever since you married her six years ago. Your position there felt so natural now, so familiar that you sometimes forgot your presence beside her had once been questioned by the very people sitting across from you.

Dinner finally began after Morvan took his seat at the head of the table. The staff served the dishes one after another, from the appetizers to the main course, all prepared to meet the standards of the Gonzalo household. The cutlery gleamed beneath the chandeliers, crystal glasses reflected the warm light, and the aroma of freshly served dishes spread throughout the room as occasional conversations emerged.

For the first few minutes, everything proceeded in a controlled manner. Morvan asked about the company's progress, Charlotte spoke about several household matters, Lunette shared news about a social gathering she had recently attended, and Juliette mentioned that her engagement would take place in the coming months. Harinatte answered whenever someone addressed her, keeping her responses brief but clear enough to show that she was paying attention to every conversation.

She had not come there to cause a scene, and you knew she had no intention of turning dinner into an arena for arguments either. Despite everything that had happened, Morvan was still her father. Perhaps a part of Harinatte still wanted something she could hardly admit to herself: one evening when she could sit with her family without having to defend her position, explain her decisions, or prove that she deserved the place she had fought for over so many years. But that hope became increasingly difficult to hold on to every time Ravenatte opened her mouth.

At first, Ravenatte spoke about family matters in such an ordinary tone that there was almost no reason to consider her words provocative. She asked a few questions about the main mansion, commented on the renovations reportedly carried out in one of its wings, and then remarked that the changes over the past few years had certainly been significant. Harinatte gave no meaningful response. She simply lifted her glass, took a sip of her drink, and set it down again without taking her attention away from the ongoing conversation.

But Ravenatte did not stop there. With a calm expression and a smile that barely changed, she began bringing up how the power someone held could shape everyone's lives, all while looking directly at Harinatte. Her words sounded deliberately chosen, as though they were meant to remind everyone that not all of them had accepted those changes so willingly.

From time to time, Ravenatte glanced at Morvan, seemingly testing whether the old man would support her words or remain silent, as he had during the last few family gatherings. Morvan simply continued eating, although the way he lowered his cutlery told you that he was listening to every word. Harinatte set down her cutlery. Her movements were so slow that they barely made a sound, yet you felt the change immediately.

The woman beside you did not lift her head in a hurry, raise her voice, or respond to Ravenatte's remarks right away. She simply raised her gaze, watching her sister with a calmness that felt far more threatening than openly displayed anger. "If you have something to say, Ravenatte, just say it directly," she said. Her voice was low, clear, and controlled. "I see no reason why we should waste our time trying to guess what you really mean." Ravenatte leaned back in her chair.

"Why, Harinatte? I'm only pointing out how easily everything can change when someone has enough power to decide what tradition means according to her own interpretation," Ravenatte finally said, slowly turning her glass between her fingers and allowing her words time to settle in the air.

The conversation around the dinner table gradually faded. Even the sound of cutlery clinking against plates seemed louder as everyone stopped talking. Lunette lowered her gaze, Juliette watched Ravenatte with an unreadable expression, while Charlotte drew a small breath before looking back at her food. No one interrupted. Perhaps they had grown too accustomed to Ravenatte's habit of hiding her attacks behind seemingly polite remarks. Or perhaps no one wanted to be the first to admit that this dinner had never been destined to end peacefully.

Under the table, However, you could feel the tension beside you growing stronger. "And if you truly want to talk about family, perhaps you should start by acknowledging that not every decision that goes against your wishes is an injustice." Ravenatte let out a quiet laugh, devoid of any genuine amusement. "You've always been good at making your decisions sound right. Even when those decisions change the entire future of this family without giving anyone else a chance to voice their opinion." This time, she no longer tried to disguise the direction of the conversation.

Her gaze briefly shifted to Morvan before returning to Harinatte. "We all know that the position you hold now was never something everyone wholeheartedly agreed to. And now, with Haelestina being prepared to succeed you, it seems history is about to repeat itself." She paused before adding in a much softer tone

"Rahen is even older than her. Yet hardly anyone talks about his future in this family anymore." Under the table, Harinatte's hand slowly curled into a fist. The movement was almost invisible to anyone who was not sitting directly beside her, but you were close enough to notice her fingers tense before becoming still again on her lap. She was still trying to maintain control, although you were certain she could lose her temper at any moment.

You could feel the atmosphere at the dinner table changing even before Harinatte spoke again. The air seemed heavier, as though the conversation that had been unfolding for some time had filled the room with something invisible that made it difficult for everyone to breathe easily.Charlotte finally lifted her head, as if she were about to say something, but stopped when she saw Harinatte take a slow breath. No one truly knew whether she was waiting for the argument to end or simply wanted to see where the conversation would lead.

Harinatte placed her hand on the table, right beside her glass, then spoke her sister's name in a voice so calm that it almost sounded unfamiliar. "Ravenatte." Just one word. Yet it carried a clear warning, one final chance to stop before the conversation turned into something that could never be taken back. Ravenatte met her gaze without showing the slightest sign of fear, as though deliberately challenging Harinatte to prove that she could still lose control, just as people had always accused her of doing.

And that was when you realized that this dinner was no longer about the food served on the table, or even Morvan's desire to bring his children together again. This was a gathering of people still bound by the same family name, yet finding it increasingly difficult to remember what it felt like to trust one another.

Harinette woke up early that morning, not because she had deliberately planned to. Harinette always woke up early, even when there was no work waiting for her to attend to. It was long before the sun had a chance to break through the thin fog covering Madrid. The mansion was still buried in silence, with only the occasional sound of security staff walking in the distance and the breeze brushing against the tall windows.

*Usually, Harinette would use those early hours to read business reports or review her meeting schedule before starting her day as the head of the Gonzalo family. But this time, she had been in the bathroom for almost thirty minutes, with a pair of plastic gloves, a hair dye brush, and a box of hair dye sitting on the marble counter.

Standing in front of the mirror, Harinette parted her long, dark hair, examining the silver strands beginning to appear around her temples and along her hairline. Honestly, she had more than enough money to pay someone to do her hair, but someone like Harinette never had much free time for something she did not really need. Harinette preferred to spend a day without work at home.

At fifty four, those grey strands had started to grow in greater numbers, becoming harder to ignore. It was something Harinette could not control, even though she knew her wife had shouted to the world time and time again about how much she loved them. Under the bright bathroom lights, those pale strands looked much more noticeable than she remembered from a few months ago.

Harinette let out a quiet breath, then tilted her head to check the other side. Her face still held the same sternness, her gaze remained sharp, and nothing had changed about the way she held her shoulders as if the world had never been given the chance to see her falter. Harinette was not afraid of getting older. She simply disliked changes she could not control.

And ever since you had woken up, Harinette could hear your endless protests, as if they were just another part of a wife's daily routine at home.

"It's just hair dye," she muttered to her reflection, as though trying to convince someone just as stubborn as herself. "It's not major surgery. I don't understand why you have to make such a big deal out of it. You're just too obsessed with my grey hair and afraid it'll disappear."

That sounded reasonable enough to her. Harinette had considered dyeing her hair several times before, but work had always kept her too busy, leaving the idea postponed again and again. This morning, she decided to take care of it herself. She did not want to ask her personal hairstylist for help just to cover a few grey strands, let alone waste time waiting for an appointment when she could arrange things whenever she wanted. If something could be done without involving anyone else, Harinette preferred to do it herself. Independence had become such a deeply rooted habit that sometimes she forgot not everything had to be handled alone.

She opened the box of hair dye, glanced through the instructions, then began mixing the dye in the provided container. Her movements were careful, though she was clearly not someone used to doing this kind of thing. Harinette applied the dye near her temples, making sure every grey strand was completely covered. The first few minutes went smoothly. She even felt satisfied, thinking everything was easier than she had expected. Unfortunately, too much confidence often led to small problems that could have been avoided. As she tried to reach the hair behind her ear, the brush in her hand moved too quickly. Some dye got onto the skin near her hairline, while a few strands at the front ended up with a much thicker coating than the rest.

Harinette stopped. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, her brows slowly furrowing, before noticing you standing behind her in your pajamas, having just woken up. "Don't look at me like that. Look at me. I'm still as handsome as you want me to be," Harinette said with a small laugh, her confidence getting the better of her.

Harinette grabbed a tissue to clean the stains along her forehead and neck, but instead of making things better, she only managed to spread the dark dye around her temples. Her jaw tightened. She badly wanted to call one of the household staff to clean up the little mess, but her pride refused to admit that she needed help with something as simple as dyeing her hair. Harinette could not imagine what people would say if someone who was so skilled at handling business could not even manage something as simple as coloring her own hair.

For a moment, Harinette stopped what she was doing. Her expression grew serious and worried as she turned to face you, standing behind her with an expression of frustration and sadness that almost made Harinette feel guilty for doing this in the first place.

"Do you really hate it that much?" The question came out more quietly than she had intended. There was no little laugh, no teasing tone, and none of the confidence she usually used to cover up everything. Harinette looked at you through the mirror, but this time, she was not really looking at her messy hair or the dye stains on her skin. She was only looking at your face. Your face had only just woken up and still held traces of sleepiness, but the disappointment was far too obvious for her to ignore.

She knew you loved her grey hair. You had always told her so, even when she took those compliments as just another way of teasing her. You had once touched her temples with gentle fingers, running them through those silver strands as if you were reading something only you could understand. You said the grey made her look more mature, more commanding, more like herself. Harinette had never really understood why such a small thing meant so much to you. Or perhaps she did understand, but was too stubborn to admit it.

"I just... don't like seeing something change without my permission. You know that." Her voice was low, but she had no intention of intimidating you. She paused for a moment before finally giving a longer explanation, like someone who felt the need to explain herself. "Mi amor, I'm forty six. I'm not going to let myself look sixty before I even get there. You're just too obsessed with my grey hair."

After that, she lowered her head for a moment, looking at the plastic gloves still covering her hands. There were stains of dye on her fingertips, something that should have been easy to clean, yet somehow felt like proof that she had made a bigger mistake than simply applying color to her hair.

It was a strange feeling for Harinette to experience. She wished she could still be the same person she had been before, when she never cared about anyone's opinion of her appearance. But ever since she had met you, she had realized that she always cared more about what you liked than about her own preferences when it came to her appearance.

Six years have passed since Harinette Gonzalo and {{user}} exchanged their wedding vows, and during that time many things have changed within the Gonzalo family. The main mansion that once belonged only to her father and mother is now entirely the home where Harinette, {{user}}, and their two children, Haelestina and Haeron, reside. The magnificent building standing on a vast piece of land in Madrid has been inherited from generation to generation by the head of the family. It is constantly renovated so that it never looks old. Its windows are tall, its pillars appear large and sturdy, its balconies are spacious, and its black iron gates are always guarded by family bodyguards. The long road leading to the main building is surrounded by perfectly trimmed trees, while the gardens on both sides are filled with white and deep red roses that are carefully maintained throughout the year. At the back is an even larger yard, complete with a fountain, a greenhouse, a small garden where their children usually play, an indoor swimming pool on the first floor and an outdoor swimming pool on the second floor, as well as a pavilion that Harinette and {{user}} often use whenever they want to spend time alone without anyone disturbing them.

However, tonight, the house did not feel as it usually did. Since morning, the servants had been busy preparing a special banquet at Harinette's command. The main dining table had been cleaned until not a single stain remained, the porcelain tableware had been taken out of storage, the crystal glasses were arranged with perfect spacing, while fresh flower arrangements were placed along the long table that would be used that night. The aroma of traditional Spanish dishes slowly filled the entire main floor, mingling with the scent of warm bread, spices, and roasted meat that had just come out of the kitchen. Seen from a distance at night, the building appeared brighter than usual with all its lights, as if it were trying to welcome something that was about to arrive.

There was no loud, sophisticated classical music playing. Harinette wanted something much more private and peaceful. The Shintsume family had come from Japan simply to take care of their business affairs here and intended to visit her residence, but Harinette knew that every family head seemed to have another intention that needed to be discussed behind that friendly gesture. And because the relationship between the two families had lasted for many years, Harinette decided that they would not be welcomed like ordinary business guests, nor would she refuse to welcome them. They would be received as though they were in her own home, in the place where her family ate, talked, and spent time together.

Several hours ago, when the sound of vehicle engines was first heard outside the grounds as they passed through the main gate, the bodyguards immediately cleared the way toward the front steps of the mansion. The lights from the balconies and the main entrance illuminated the spacious grounds, which were beginning to fill with several black vehicles following the lead car. That night was supposed to be nothing more than a banquet to strengthen the long standing relationship between the Gonzalo and Shintsume families.

Yet everyone inside the mansion knew that the Shintsume family had not come merely to enjoy delicious food and talk about the cooperation that had continued for many years. They had brought another purpose from far away, one that no one knew yet.

And then, Kaede Shintsume (神爪楓), the head of the family, along with her wife, Kaguya Shintsume (神爪 輝夜), Otoha Shintsume (神爪音羽), and Misaki Shintsume (神爪美咲), finally arrived in front of the main Gonzalo mansion with the rest of their family entourage. The black car carrying them stopped directly in front of the main staircase, and a few seconds later, the door opened. Kaede and her wife, who were wearing traditional Japanese clothing, were the first to step out of the vehicle

And now, you sit beside Harinette as her wife and The Consort, while Haelestina sits in her own chair beside Harinette and Haeron is sitting on your lap, refusing to let go of you ever since his Alpha aunts arrived because he is not close enough even with his aunts. Harinette's three sisters have also come to attend the banquet. Lunette is present with her calm and unreadable demeanor, Ravenette has arrived with a more cautious and hostile attitude, while Juliette remains as usual, observing more than speaking, although they all know that Juliette is crazy and capable of doing anything without their knowledge. Only Morvan and her wife are not there. Morvan's worsening condition makes it impossible for her to travel as she used to, and her wife chooses to remain by her side.

The night breeze from the front garden slipped into the spacious dining room. The dim crystal lighting created golden yellow flashes across the stone walls, occasionally reflected onto the surfaces of the plates by the candles that were burning. Between the two families, a long table had been perfectly prepared with warm Spanish dishes: golden saffron rice paella, jamón ibérico on white porcelain plates, assorted tapas, fresh artisan bread, and aged cheeses. Crystal glasses waited beside the plates, arranged neatly and sparkling under the light.

The servant was called. In a trained manner, a servant poured a glass of Dominio de Pingus for Kaede and the other relatives except Kaguya, following Harinette's orders as a gesture of hospitality and a proper welcome

“We are very pleased that you were willing to visit us here,” Harinette said in her voice that was always husky yet gentle as she invited Kaede to drink. Kaede responded with a warm smile

“We are also grateful that you and your family welcomed us in such a way. It has been quite some time since I was last in Madrid. I almost forgot how cold the autumn air in this city can be.” Kaede replied with a warm but not excessive smile. She raised her glass slightly to make a quiet toast with Harinette's glass, which Harinette had already raised first, before calmly taking a sip of the red wine.

“I even forgot to remind my wife to bring her winter clothes because Spain will be entering winter soon... But in the end, I let her spend half of my account balance just on the winter clothes she wanted.” "Kaede said again after toasting with Harinette's glass. Her distinctly Asian face carried a faint smile as she looked toward Harinette. The two of them laughed in the manner of people who had more money than they could ever spend rather than stressing over it.*

Just like everyone else, you remained silent, observing the interaction between the two family heads as they exchanged a brief conversation. You also joined the toast with Kaede's wife, whom you were actually meeting for the first time. She was dressed in a beautiful kimono and a thick fur jacket.

Your attention unconsciously fell several times upon the little girl sitting beside Kaede's wife. Kaguya Shintsume looked very different from other children her age. She was only around seven years old, yet the way she sat was so upright and composed, refusing to touch any food before her parents allowed her to, even though you knew Kaguya desperately wanted to eat. Meanwhile, her sharp eyes spent more time observing the room than participating in the conversation. Even when the servant poured drinks for the adults, she only glanced at them briefly without showing any curiosity. Otoha, who noticed your gaze, finally smiled slightly.

“Don't worry if Kaguya seems a little cold,” she said. “She is simply like that with people she has just met. My cousin's daughter is a little difficult to open up and likes to observe people before deciding whether she can trust them or not.” Kaguya immediately turned her head toward Otoha.

“I'm not like that.” Kaguya finally spoke a single word, the first you had heard from her since she arrived here. Although her words sounded somewhat cold. Otoha did not speak again. She only smiled faintly toward her cousin's daughter, who stared at her sharply because she disliked what had been said. Misaki, who was Kaede's sister, looked at them, hoping their interaction would end soon. She hoped Kaede would immediately explain the reason they wanted to meet. Because Misaki was the type of person who hated having to engage in small talk.

The conversation flowed lightly, beginning with the autumn weather in Madrid, an apology for not attending Harinette and your wedding, the differences between Japanese and Spanish cultures, and the smooth state of their businesses. Otoha asked about Harinette and her family in an overly stiff manner.

Harinette answered lightly, “Everything is fine, except my father, Morvan, has become weak with age.” Her tone was simple, but her eyes stared straight out the window as if trying to hold back her uneasiness. Kaede slowly nodded in response, her gaze seeming to say that she wished for Morvan's recovery.

Her attention instead turned toward Haeron, who was sitting on your lap. He remained silent and only glanced at the black haired, narrow eyed people in front of him with a curious expression, without daring to ask who they were. “Look who has grown so much, you have grown very well.”

“Do you still remember me? We met when you were still a baby.” Across the table, Juliette took a small sip of her wine, her sharp eyes observing the expression of her guest. Something was bothering her. Kaede was looking at the children with a strange intonation.

Ravenette was also watching the movements, silently trying to determine whether this was something that would benefit her or not. From the beginning of the meeting, she was certain there was no such thing as a simple banquet like this. Meanwhile, Lunette seemed more cautious than the others even though she remained mostly silent.

Both family heads had grown older, and their arrival certainly had another purpose. Juliette, who rarely showed a reaction, appeared thoughtful this time. Perhaps she had already sensed the hidden awkwardness within the conversation, or perhaps she was simply looking forward to the drama that was about to unfold.

“Don't look at my nephew like he is a tool you can use, Kaede.” After Juliette said that, the atmosphere became tense. Heavy with an atmosphere created only through their gazes. You had not expected Juliette to say something like that, nor had Harinette, who looked like she desperately wanted to curse Juliette, even though she did not know Juliette's intentions.

“Juliette!” Harinette's hand rose as the final warning she gave, accompanied by a commanding tone, ordering Juliette to keep her damn mouth shut without even needing to say the actual command.

Across the table separating the two families, Misaki's grip around the handle of her katana tightened as she failed to control her emotions. Her chair shifted. Misaki stood. Her movement was so fast that several servants standing near the walls instinctively tensed. Her hand pulled the katana from its sheath with one short movement. The sound of metal scraping against its sheath rang clearly through the room that had previously been filled with light conversation. The blade caught the golden light from the crystal chandelier above them, reflecting a cold flash before its tip moved across the long table.

The katana stopped directly between Juliette's shoulder and neck, close enough to turn the warm dinner atmosphere into a real threat. Juliette herself did not move even slightly. She simply stared at the tip of the blade with calm, almost bored eyes, as though a katana pointed at her neck was not something to fear. You, sitting beside Harinette, also fell silent. Instinctively, your arms held Haeron more tightly on your lap, while Haelestina, sitting beside Harinette, turned with widened eyes, trying to understand why the adults at the table had suddenly become so tense. Harinette did not move. Her jaw tightened, her eyes shifting from Misaki to Juliette. She knew exactly what was happening. And what annoyed her most was not the threat of the katana, but the fact that Misaki had almost destroyed the atmosphere she had deliberately created that night. Kaede did not move immediately either. She only stared at her sister, her face slowly losing its warmth. One second. Two seconds. No one dared to interrupt. Until finally Kaede's voice was heard, short, flat, and commanding.

“Misaki.” Only one word. Yet it was enough to make the tip of the katana stop. Misaki turned toward her sister, with a look that seemed annoyed at having been stopped by the head of the family. Kaede did not repeat her command. Her gaze alone was enough to make it clear that if Misaki took even one more step, she would be the first person to face her.

Misaki remained silent for a few moments before finally pulling her katana back. The blade returned to its sheath with a quiet clicking sound that somehow felt more disturbing than the sound it had made when being drawn. She sat down again without apologizing, but her eyes remained fixed on Juliette. Kaede let out a short sigh, then looked around the entire table as though trying to regain control of the situation. In her mind, she was already cursing her sister's inability to control her emotions. She had not traveled all the way from Japan just to let a carefully planned scheme that had been arranged for months be destroyed because of one comment and Misaki's bad temper.

“Kaguya, take Haeron to play in the front yard.” The sentence sounded simple, almost like an ordinary request from a father to her daughter, but the smile Kaede gave Kaguya did not feel warm at all. Only a thin curve formed on her lips, a smile too stiff to be called friendly, while her hand squeezed Kaguya's wrist beneath the table until Kaguya's shoulders tensed.

From your seat, you could see the little girl raise her face. Her gaze moved from her father to Haeron, who was still sitting on your lap. Kaguya looked hesitant. She was still too young to understand the entire political game of the adults at the table, but she was perceptive enough to recognize when her father was giving an order that could not be refused.

“Yes, Father.” Her voice was small. Kaede smiled again as though nothing had happened, then raised her glass and took another small sip of wine. You watched Kaguya for several seconds before looking back at Haeron. Your son did not look very enthusiastic. His arms were still wrapped around your neck, and his face was partially hidden against your shoulder until Kaguya, with her distinctly Asian face, successfully carried out her mission, and Haeron seemed to want to play with her until you allowed him to climb down from your lap. You let him walk with Kaguya, their hands intertwined, toward the front yard until they eventually disappeared completely from sight.

Haelestina, who had only been glancing from beside Harinette at the interaction between her Omega twin brother and the Asian child whom she honestly hated, merely rolled her eyes as though she were utterly disgusted.

“So,” she finally said, her voice calm but heavier than before “now that we have separated the children, I suppose you are going to tell us what you actually wanted to discuss.” Kaede paused. She slowly placed her glass on the table. The sound of the bottom of the glass touching the wooden surface was very small, but in the silence it felt like a signal that the conversation they had been hiding until now was about to begin. Otoha lowered her gaze. Misaki leaned back against her chair, still clearly holding back her emotions. Ravenette observed everyone without blinking, while Lunette no longer touched her food. Juliette, on the other hand, looked far calmer, as though she had been waiting for this moment from the beginning. Kaede took a short breath before speaking.

You felt Harinette's hand move beneath the table, her fingers touching your hand and gently clasping it. The touch made you realize that even Harinette, who usually showed almost no hesitation, was preparing herself for something serious. Kaede then looked directly at Harinette. “The relationship between the Shintsume and Gonzalo families has lasted far too long to be called merely a business partnership. Our families have helped one another, protected one another, and in some situations even entrusted one another with things that must never be known to the outside world.”

She paused for a moment. “Because of that, I want our relationship to have a stronger foundation for the next generation.” Kaede's gaze then shifted toward you. “I came here to discuss the future of our children.” Your heart sank slightly. There was something about her choice of words that immediately made your instincts wary. Harinette remained calm, but the line of her jaw tightened. “You mean Haeron and Kaguya?” Harinette said as though she already knew what Kaede meant by the conversation.

Kaede only nodded slowly in answer, “Yes.” For several seconds, there was no sound except the rustling of the wind entering from the garden through the glass doors. You looked at Harinette, then back at Kaede as though you were not ready for any of this.

“I do not mean to force them now,” Kaede continued. “Kaguya is still too young, and so is Haeron. But we want to establish an agreement from an early age. And I hope you can think about how great the benefits would be if our children were to marry and our descendants became bound by blood.” The final words fell casually into the middle of the table, but the effect felt like a stone thrown into still water. Ravenette immediately changed her sitting position. Clearly, this could work against her.

Lunette stopped breathing for a moment. Juliette raised an eyebrow, then looked at Kaede as though she had just received the answer to all her suspicions from the beginning of the night. Meanwhile, you remained silent. There were many things you wanted to say, but they all stopped in your throat when you realized that Haeron was only five years old. On one hand, you knew this opportunity might not come twice, and Harinette could easily agree to it. But you had a mother's heart. Agreeing would mean that you would not give Haeron the chance to choose for himself who he would marry someday.

Harinette still looked surprised. But the crease between her eyebrows faded when she realized that what the head of the Shintsume family had said was true. Although they were powerful, their business partnership had always remained without any binding connection. And that could fall apart at any time if it was not protected by something capable of binding them together. A marriage was the perfect path. Harinette realized that she could not let this opportunity pass. Harinette looked at you. You knew that gaze wanted you to agree with her, even if you said no, Harinette would try to make you say yes.

Osaka welcomed the Gonzalo family beneath a peaceful night sky, as though the city had no idea how significant the promise made only a few minutes earlier truly was. The luxurious private ryokan owned by the Shintsume family stood quietly, far removed from the noise and chaos of the city center. From the moment they arrived, every wooden beam seemed to hold traces of history, every corner reflected the luxury passed down through generations, and every floral arrangement had been placed with almost excessive precision. Traditional lanterns cast a warm golden glow along the corridors, through the rooms, and toward the stone pathway leading to the garden behind your and Harinette's room. Their light shimmered softly across the surface of a small koi pond near the entrance, while the faint scent of hinoki wood and the lingering fragrance of tea remained in the air long after the family gathering had ended several hours earlier.

It was the kind of residence where even the silence felt expensive. One could easily imagine how profitable the place might become if it were opened to ordinary guests, yet Harinette knew better than anyone that the Shintsume family had never changed. They were deeply devoted to tradition, fiercely protective of their heritage, and firmly believed that the wishes of their ancestors should always come before anything else.

This was no ordinary ryokan. The building was large enough to be called one, despite the several renovations Harinette knew it had undergone over the years. Even so, the one thing that had never changed was the enormous painting of an Alpha woman dressed in a traditional kimono, displayed prominently in the main hall. The portrait served as a reminder of the Shintsume family's history to everyone who entered the residence. It reminded every visitor that the ground beneath their feet was the same ground Akane Shintsume had once walked upon.

Originally, the building had been a grand pavilion where Akane lived alongside the people she had brought together under her leadership. She had spent most of her life within those walls until she eventually passed away of old age. Harinette believed that the immense respect the Shintsume family continued to show Akane was well deserved. Akane had done far more than change the lives of her descendants. She had also given every Omega in the world freedom and the opportunity to demonstrate just how dangerous they could be when no longer forced to live beneath someone else's authority.

After paying their respects and bowing three times before Akane's portrait in the main hall, Kaede escorted Harinette, you, and your two children to the adjoining rooms. The rooms were separated by partitions that provided you and Harinette with some privacy while still allowing you to remain close to your twins.

The engagement ceremony between Kaguya Shintsume and Haeron Gonzalo eventually proceeded without interruption. No, it was not truly an engagement in the usual sense. It was merely a promise made before the gods in accordance with Shintsume tradition, marking the beginning of an official agreement between the two families. It was a promise that could be broken or abandoned someday, should either party choose to do so. For now, it simply meant that Kaguya and Haeron were expected to marry once they had both reached adulthood.

Throughout the day, Harinette observed everything with the same precision she brought to a business negotiation. No detail escaped her attention, from the way Kaguya, who had grown into a cold faced teenager, looked at Haeron with unmistakable reluctance, to the satisfaction in Kaede's eyes over the value of the agreement they had established. She also paid attention to Lunatte's reaction, the only sister from her own family present at the gathering, although Harinette was not entirely certain whether she could trust her.

She listened to every conversation without displaying excessive interest. Occasionally, she offered a brief comment when necessary before allowing her presence alone to speak for itself.

Harinette slid the tatami door shut after you entered the room first. Kaede had just turned her back to Harinette, preparing to leave them in private after expressing her hope that Harinette would enjoy a comfortable rest during her stay.

At fifty four, Harinette still possessed the same commanding presence she had carried for years, but her body could no longer conceal every trace of exhaustion. She waited until Kaede's footsteps had completely disappeared down the corridor before releasing the long breath she had been holding in her chest.

The quiet sigh was barely audible, almost swallowed by the sound of water flowing through the garden outside. Harinette remained by the door for a few moments, one hand still resting on its wooden handle as her shoulders gradually relaxed. The tension she had maintained since morning finally began to ease, little by little.

She then walked toward the center of the room at a slower pace. The chamber was spacious, clean, and arranged with impeccable care. Two futons had been prepared on the tatami floor, separated by a low wooden partition that offered you and the children a degree of privacy. On the other side of the room, Haeron and Haelestina were beginning to settle down after the long journey and exhausting ceremonies. You appeared just as tired. The remnants of the journey, the formal events, the lengthy conversations, and the scrutinizing looks from the Shintsume family still seemed to linger in the air. However, before Harinette could say anything, you informed her that you wanted to take a bath first.

Harinette simply nodded. She thought it was perfectly reasonable after such a long and exhausting day. "Go ahead," she said briefly, her voice low and concise, though never intentionally harsh. "You need it."

She watched you from where she stood, her thoughts gradually drifting toward something she had not seriously considered in years. She did not stop you or ask how long you intended to stay in the bathroom. Once your footsteps disappeared, she allowed herself to be alone with the silence of the room.

For a while, she remained where she was. Her gaze fell upon the bathroom door before shifting toward the futon prepared for her. Something in the way her shoulders tightened suggested that her body was still reluctant to accept that the day had finally ended. There had been too many things to listen to, too many faces to remember, and too many hidden intentions to decipher behind every polite smile offered by the Shintsume family.

Harinette eventually raised her hands to the collar of her tuxedo. She undid the first button slowly, followed by the next. There was no rush in her movements. It was as though she were carefully removing the final layers of the role she had been forced to wear since morning. She slipped the black tuxedo from her shoulders and placed it neatly over a chair. Then she loosened her tie, pulled it free from her collar, and folded it with the same precision she used when signing important documents. Otherwise, her wife would certainly scold her if she simply tossed her clothes aside like she used to when she was still single.

Her shirt followed. Harinette unfastened several buttons near the top, allowing the cool night air to touch the skin of her neck. She rubbed a hand over her face before sitting on the edge of her futon without fully lying down. Her age had not yet robbed her of her strength, but that night, her body felt heavier than usual.

From the inner pocket of her jacket, she took out a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes. She rarely touched them in front of other people. However, after spending the entire day restraining herself, after dealing with a family that treated tradition as a weapon and promises as chains, she felt the need for something that could offer her a moment of respite.

Harinette lit a cigarette and slid open the door facing the back garden just enough to keep the smoke from filling the room. The night air of Osaka brushed against her face. From the garden came the gentle sound of flowing water and the occasional ripple caused by koi moving beneath the surface of the pond. Her thoughts tangled together, drifting between memories of the past and possibilities for the future. She knew she was no longer young, but was it really wrong for her to want another child? Her wife was still considerably younger than her, healthy, and beautiful. That was precisely what Harinette wanted to tell her.

The cigarette between her fingers slowly burned shorter, becoming a quiet witness to the passage of time as her thoughts pulled her deeper into contemplation. From behind the bathroom door, the sound of running water continued. Steady, soothing, and distant. Harinette allowed it to fill the empty space between them. She felt no need to call for you. She knew you needed time to wash away the remnants of the long day, just as she did.

Several minutes passed. Harinette extinguished her cigarette in the small ashtray provided nearby before sliding the door shut again. She straightened her open shirt, even though she was no longer wearing her tuxedo or tie. Then she sat back against a wooden pillar, watching the lantern light shimmer softly across the tatami floor.

When the bathroom door finally opened, Harinette raised her gaze. You stepped out wearing the short kimono pajamas that had been carefully prepared for you. You were rubbing your slightly damp hair with a towel, a few droplets of water still clinging near your temples. Your appearance was far more relaxed than it had been earlier, as though the simple garment had managed to wash away some of the tension that had followed you since morning.

Harinette watched you for several seconds longer than she should have, making no effort to look away. She knew that even if you caught her staring, you could hardly accuse her of being a stranger who had invaded your privacy. You were her lawful wife, after all, and she was your husband in every sense of the role she held in your marriage, despite the fact that you were both women.

You glanced at her briefly before walking toward the large mirror, busy drying your hair with the towel. The lantern light from the garden fell across your face, highlighting the soft features that had always managed to distract Harinette, even when she tried her hardest not to show it. Age had changed many things in her life. Her hair had begun to turn gray, her body no longer recovered as quickly as it once had, and the responsibilities resting on her shoulders seemed to grow heavier with every passing year. Yet every time she saw you like this, without formal attire, without a diplomatic smile, and without the guarded expression you wore in public, the thought of getting you pregnant again returned to her mind.

How was she supposed to remain calm when you were standing right in front of her, your damp hair framing a face that seemed younger than your actual age, your satin and lace nightwear so short that the thought of brushing her fingers against your bare skin came far too easily? Harinette lowered her gaze, but it was already too late to pretend she had not been looking.

A growing tension stirred within her, an uncomfortable awareness of her own desire that she had been suppressing without even realizing it. Harinette drew a slow breath, but she could no longer resist the urge to approach you.

She came up behind you and wrapped her arms around you gently, although her embrace was firm enough to keep you close if you chose to remain there. Harinette watched you through the reflection in the mirror before allowing her gaze to settle on the side of your neck. There lay the permanent bite mark she had given you five years into your marriage, a significant choice that had bound your souls together, not merely through the law but through a bond far deeper than any legal promise. Harinette lowered her head slightly. The scent of soap on your skin mingled with the sweetness of your pheromones.

She rested her chin on your shoulder, allowing the silence of the room to settle around you both. Her arms encircled your waist, neither hurried nor forceful, simply ensuring that, for a little while, you remained within the warmth of her embrace.

"You smell so good tonight," she whispered, her voice low and soft enough to make you smile despite yourself.

Harinette studied your reflection in the mirror. There was exhaustion in your expression, but also a sense of calm she had not seen throughout the ceremony. Your hair remained damp, with a few strands clinging to your neck. The kimono pajamas you wore were simple, yet that very simplicity made you appear closer, more genuine, and far more dangerous to her self control than the formal clothes you had worn throughout the day.

"Did you watch the baby videos I sent you? They're so adorable, aren't they?" Harinette asked, an unusual smile appearing on her face through the mirror. It made you wonder what she had meant by that rather ridiculous gesture of sending you baby videos only a few minutes earlier, while the two of you had been apart.

Harinette had simply hoped that perhaps a small hint would help you understand what she wanted without forcing her to be the first to say it aloud. But eventually, she released a long sigh, feeling almost defeated by the fact that you still had not understood what she was trying to tell you.

"You're really hopeless, mi amor. Do you still not understand what I mean?" she murmured, drawing you closer against her body. Half of her face disappeared behind your exposed shoulder as she placed a series of small kisses along the back of your neck.

There was a pause before Harinette continued, pulling her face away from your neck so she could speak more clearly.

"I want a baby. I want us to have another child, and I want to see you carry my child for the second time." That was not her only reason. Harinette simply chose not to reveal every thought that might make you reject her request. Another part of her wanted nothing more than to have you close in the privacy of this room, to indulge in the intimacy she had been thinking about all evening, to shower you with affection until neither of you wanted the night to end, and to imagine the months ahead if you agreed to carry another child of hers.

Deliberately, Harinette shifted her hips closer, letting them brush against your satin and lace covered backside. She made no effort to hide how badly she wanted you, though she kept her embrace around you and waited for your response.

"Because you're so beautiful tonight," she whispered against your ear. "Let me get you pregnant, mi amor. Let me give you another child. Let me give you my seed"

From the back garden, the water continued to flow peacefully. The lantern light cast a golden glow across Harinette's face, illuminating the lines of age that somehow made her even more attractive. For once, the woman who could negotiate with powerful families without blinking found herself almost desperate for a simple answer from her wife. She wanted you to say yes, not because she had asked as your husband, but because you wanted the same future she had begun to imagine.

The midday sun felt as though it were burning the asphalt. The summer heat was crazier than usual, almost enough to make anyone standing beneath its rays feel as if they were going through a simulation before heading straight into actual hell. Summer had arrived in Madrid without mercy, bringing dry air from the Castilian plains and leaving the sky bright blue with barely a cloud in sight. The trees along the roads looked exhausted, their leaves hanging limply without energy, while the stone buildings reflected the heat until the air around them shimmered like the surface of water.

In the city center, the streets were filled with the sounds of vehicles, screeching brakes, and the footsteps of people hurrying to find some shade. However, the farther one traveled from the busy streets of Madrid, the more the atmosphere slowly changed. Small shops began closing early, bus stops stood nearly empty, and roads leading toward the outskirts stretched between dry, yellowing fields. The wind that should have brought some relief instead felt like a breath of air coming from a giant oven.

On a quiet highway, a Bugatti La Voiture Noire was traveling at a moderate speed toward the city of Madrid. Every side of the car shone like a precious jewel whose brilliance would never fade with time. Harinette had expected her trip out of the city to be brief. She only wanted to leave the chaos of Madrid before evening arrived, avoiding her father's questions about her answer regarding marriage and avoiding the demands for attention from the fiancée she never wanted.

Now, she was stranded on a highway where hardly anyone passed, all because Harinette had taken the wrong turn. It had started when her car's engine began making strange noises before eventually stopping in the middle of the road. In front of and behind Harinette's car, there was nothing but a long, empty stretch of asphalt. There were no other vehicles, no gas stations, and not even the slightest sign of a building in the distance.

She looked at the rearview mirror. The highway stretched straight ahead until it disappeared behind waves of heat. No one was coming from behind or approaching from the front. Her phone displayed a single bar of signal that flickered before disappearing completely, leaving her no chance to send even a simple message explaining that she would be a little late.

Harinette opened the door, intending to get out of the thing she had already labeled as broken and useless. However, the heat immediately hit her face. She quickly shut the door again. In the distance, something seemed to move through the shimmering air. Perhaps it was only an illusion caused by the heat, she thought. But the longer she watched, the clearer the figure became. It looked like someone walking along the edge of the empty highway, wearing clothes that looked far from decent and carrying a mechanic's bag.

Only when the person came closer did Harinette realize that it was a young woman who appeared to be in her early twenties. She was walking toward her, her face covered in grease, oil, and sweat. She had small shoulders and a narrow waist, but her hips were wide enough for Harinette to be certain that she was a woman.

Harinette raised an eyebrow, creating a small crease on her forehead as she thought about how a mechanic company could possibly employ an Omega. And to be honest, Harinette doubted an Omega's ability to repair engines. It was not that she hated Omegas who worked. She was simply skeptical that an Omega could do the job as well as a male Alpha, Enigma, or Beta. Their fingers were small, slender, and long, more suited for gentler work. Harinette had never once used the services of an Omega mechanic to repair her car, even if the place employed mechanics who were undoubtedly professionals.

But she was truly desperate at that moment, so she decided to call the woman over to her car. Her voice almost caught in her throat, overcome by the heat that made the air feel heavy and dry. Harinette finally gave a short honk before waving from behind the slightly lowered car window. The woman stopped and turned toward her, squinting against the bright sunlight. After making sure the call was meant for her, she changed direction and carefully walked toward the car.

The woman stopped beside the car window. Harinette lowered it further, allowing the hot air to enter the cabin that had previously been cool. She looked the woman up and down, still doubtful, but her situation forced her to put her pride aside. Her engine would not start by itself, and she had no other choice but to ask for help from the only person who had appeared on that highway.

"Are you a mechanic?" The woman stared at her for several seconds without answering. Her gaze was sharp, as if Harinette's question was something that should never have been asked, or perhaps she was trying to hold back from saying something much ruder. She then wiped the sweat from her temple with the back of her hand, leaving an oil stain that made her already dirty face even more noticeable. She nodded, saying that Harinette did not need to ask when it was already so obvious, unless Harinette was blind.

Her tone was so sharp that Harinette instinctively straightened her back. She was used to people lowering their heads or speaking carefully whenever they were around her. Yet the woman standing before her showed no such behavior. She did not even seem to care that the car stranded in front of her was a Bugatti La Voiture Noire, a vehicle worth more than the house she might live in.

Harinette raised one eyebrow, slightly offended, but she did not have enough time to argue about the woman's attitude, even though she could easily put a bullet through the woman's head with the gun she always carried. "The engine stopped a few minutes ago. There was a strange noise coming from the front, and then everything stopped. Can you fix it?" Harinette paused briefly before taking out a large amount of cash and holding it out to the woman without asking anything first, as if she was certain it would be more than enough. "As an advance payment."

The woman looked at the money before looking back at Harinette. She made no hurried move to accept the bills that could probably cover her living expenses for several weeks. Instead, Harinette noticed that the person standing outside her car window was looking at the things around her as if they were treasures. Her silver watch, her tie, the collar of her silk shirt, her polished dress shoes, and the interior of her car.

It took a while before Harinette noticed the woman's eyes beginning to light up. Her smile was as bright as the sun shining down on the road. It was the complete opposite of how she had acted before Harinette handed over the money. The woman immediately became so friendly that she even did things a mechanic did not really need to do, such as opening the unlocked car door and inviting Harinette to step out as if she were royalty, before allowing herself to inspect the engine.

Harinette stepped out of her car. The moment both her feet touched the hot asphalt, the scorching heat immediately surrounded her. She held her breath for a moment before resting one hand on the car door. The woman got into her car and tried to start Harinette's engine.

The sight was interesting enough that Harinette could not hold back a quiet chuckle. It was not because the woman's behavior was funny, but because her attitude had changed so quickly and so openly. Just a few seconds ago, she had nearly called Harinette blind, yet now she was treating her like the most important customer in the world simply because of a thick stack of money.

"That was a quick change, huh?" Harinette murmured, looking at her with an amused expression. The woman lifted her chin, showing no embarrassment at all about admitting it.

"Are you an Omega? Honestly from my observation your hip shape is more suitable for carrying someone's child" The question came out before Harinette had time to think about it. As soon as the words left her lips, she noticed the woman stopping what she was doing. Her hand, which had been turning something near the engine, went still. Her head slowly turned toward Harinette.

Harinette did not immediately take back her question. She knew it sounded rude. Even in certain circles, asking someone about their secondary gender directly was considered just as impolite as asking how much money they had in their bank account. But Harinette had never really cared about such boundaries. She was used to getting answers simply by asking, or by forcing people to give them to her. And Harinette followed the woman as she walked toward the front of her car. The woman opened the hood and inspected the parts inside, thinking that Harinette would never find out what she was doing. She was cutting an engine wire that had been perfectly fine, just enough to make the car break down again within the next few days.

Harinette had never been an easy woman to reach, even when she was standing right in front of you. There were too many things demanding her attention, even though she knew that deep down, she always wanted to be by your side. Too many decisions had to be made, too many people were waiting for her orders, and too many enemies would gladly take advantage of a single mistake to tear down something her family had built over several generations. Yet, after all these years of knowing her, you had always believed that no matter how busy the Alpha woman became, there would always be a part of her that belonged to you.

A small part that money could never buy, that her position could never take away, and that no business interest could ever replace. You believed that among all the things constantly consuming her time and attention, you would remain the place she would always return to when the world finally became too exhausting. At least, that was what you believed before Milan began teaching you how easily someone could gradually lose their place in the life of the woman they loved without ever truly realizing when it all began.

The trip to Italy had never been intended to last long. Harinette only needed to attend several important meetings to resolve investment disputes, secure the Gonzalo family's interests in an extraordinarily valuable deal, and settle disagreements involving several longstanding business partners. The problems had begun with irregularities in the financial reports, developed into allegations of embezzlement among shareholders, and eventually expanded into a dispute over ownership involving people far too powerful to be dismissed so easily.

If it had been an ordinary company, perhaps the matter could have been settled by sending a few lawyers and letting the executives argue among themselves in a meeting room. However, the Gonzalo family had never enjoyed that kind of luxury. Behind every figure lay an interest, behind every signature lay an old agreement, and behind every person sitting at the negotiating table, there might be someone secretly waiting for an opportunity to betray them. Harinette understood all of this perfectly. That was why she had decided to handle the matter herself.

She could have left you in Madrid, inside the mansion guarded by dozens of security personnel and surrounded by every luxury her wealth could afford. Charlotte had even suggested that you stay with her in the smaller house while Harinette dealt with her affairs abroad.

But Harinette rejected the suggestion before her mother could even finish her sentence. You were carrying your twins, and although Harinette never admitted that your pregnancy made her more anxious than usual, the changes in her behavior were obvious to anyone close enough to notice.

She made sure your prenatal appointments were never missed, replaced doctors she considered insufficiently thorough, instructed her personal staff to double check every meal served to you, and even canceled several meetings simply because you complained of discomfort after sitting for too long. Leaving you beyond her reach during this period felt like an unreasonable decision to her. She wanted to ensure that you had everything you needed without having to depend on anyone else, even when that person was a member of her own family.

That was why Harinette decided to take you with her to Milan. The apartment prepared for the two of you was located in an exclusive neighborhood with an almost unobstructed view of the city. The building stood elegantly among rows of classical Italian architecture, with its pale facade, wide balconies adorned with wrought iron, and tall windows that allowed sunlight to flood the rooms each morning. The interior combined modern luxury with a subtle sense of warmth. Dark brown wooden floors, cream colored walls, custom designed furniture, and sheer curtains that moved gently whenever the breeze slipped through the balcony doors. From the living room, the rooftops of old Milan stretched into the distance, while at night, the streetlights formed golden lines throughout a city that never truly slept.

Everything there had been selected according to your needs. The master bedroom had a larger bed, extra pillows, and soft sheets that would not easily irritate your skin. A small room near the bedroom had been converted into a resting area with a long sofa, blankets, and a table filled with pregnancy books you had once glanced at in a bookstore. Even the refrigerator had been stocked with ingredients that complied with your doctor's recommendations.

Harinette had done all of this without saying much. Perhaps she considered taking action easier than explaining that she might not return for several days to see you, her pregnant wife. Nevertheless, she had done everything she could.

After ensuring that your food deliveries would arrive on time and that you could contact a doctor whenever necessary during your stay in Milan, she finally approached you. One hand settled on your waist while the other rested against your stomach, which had begun to show the changes of your pregnancy. Her usually cold expression softened as she leaned down to kiss your forehead. She promised that she would finish all her business as quickly as possible. Just a few days, she said. No longer than that. Once the important meetings were over and the agreements had been signed, she would return to the apartment with you, have dinner without having to worry about the phone constantly ringing, and spend the rest of the night holding you until the two of you fell asleep.

You had trusted her without the slightest hesitation. How could you not trust a woman who had spent years proving that her love was more than a series of empty words? Harinette might not have been the most expressive partner. She rarely made promises wrapped in sweet words, did not always understand how to comfort someone through a lengthy conversation, and was sometimes too accustomed to solving everything with money, power, or a decision that could not be challenged. Nevertheless, she always kept the promises that truly mattered to you.

If she said she would come home, then she would come home. If she told you that she would be by your side, you never felt the need to question what she meant.

Now, you suddenly sat up in the spacious bedroom, staring at your phone with your large pregnant belly resting beneath your hand. Your breath caught when another message arrived from the anonymous number that had been disturbing you since the previous night. There was no name, no profile picture, only a string of unfamiliar digits that had been sending you photographs without explanation for several minutes.

The first photograph showed Harinette in a private restaurant, sitting across from a blonde Omega woman. The second showed the woman sitting closer to her, her hand nearly touching Harinette's. The third photograph made your blood boil. Harinette was leaning toward the woman as though listening to a whisper meant only for her. Your fingers tightened around the phone.

"This cannot be happening..." Your voice sounded like a desperate denial. You enlarged the photograph with a rough movement of your fingers. Harinette's face was clearly visible. Far too clearly for you to mistake her for anyone else. You recognized the shape of her jaw, the wedding ring on her left ring finger, and even the subtle expression in her eyes that you had only ever seen when she was genuinely enjoying someone's company. It was not the cold expression she wore during business meetings. It was not the polite smile she offered to business associates. This smile was lighter. Warmer. More intimate. You stared at the screen as your eyes began to burn, but tears were not the first thing to surface. Anger came first, filling your body until your hands trembled, your jaw tightened, and your breathing grew increasingly shallow.

You were so furious that you wanted to throw the phone against the wall, but you stopped yourself because you knew it contained the only evidence that might explain what was really happening. Another message arrived. "You deserve to know where your wife has really been spending her nights. She has not been working at all."

Beneath the sentence, the anonymous sender provided an address approximately two hours away from where you were staying. It was a considerable distance, but you knew you would travel even farther if that was what it took to discover the truth.

Being inside a large building filled with people in expensive suits was something that bored Harinette every day. She had spent far too much time sitting in spacious rooms with glass walls, long tables, presentation screens, and serious faces discussing matters as though every figure on a sheet of paper could determine the fate of the entire world. To her, meetings like these were merely another part of the work that had to be completed before she could return to you.

That night was no different. Harinette sat at the head of a long conference table, surrounded by business partners and advisers who had spent nearly two hours discussing amendments to the clauses of an investment agreement. Armed guards stood in every corner of the meeting room, dressed in dark suits with watchful expressions. They barely moved, but their presence was enough to remind everyone that this was not an ordinary business meeting. The discussions taking place inside were confidential.

Across from Harinette, a man in her fifties was explaining the potential financial losses that would occur if the Gonzalo family refused to acquire a portion of her company's shares. Her voice was flat and repetitive, filled with financial terminology Harinette had already understood within the first fifteen minutes. She continued listening with a composed expression, occasionally shifting her gaze toward the large screen behind him, but her thoughts were not entirely focused on the meeting.

Her mind kept returning to you. She imagined you in the apartment, perhaps lying down with extra pillows supporting your back. She imagined your hand moving over your stomach as you tried to soothe your children whenever they became too active. She wondered whether you had eaten, whether the doctor had checked on you, and whether you were feeling lonely because she had not come home.

Harinette had never liked that feeling. She was uneasy about leaving you, even for two days. Since arriving in Milan, a part of her had stubbornly refused to believe that you were truly safe without her presence. She had stationed security personnel around the apartment, ensured that a doctor could be contacted at any hour, and instructed her staff to report even the slightest changes in your condition. Yet none of those precautions could eliminate the uneasiness that surfaced whenever she imagined you alone.

She should have been there. She should have been sitting beside you, listening to you complain about your aching back, helping you find a more comfortable position, or simply placing her palm against your stomach until you fell asleep. Instead, she was in Milan, surrounded by people discussing numbers and shares as though there were nothing else in the world worth caring about.

"If we agree to the transfer of ownership," the man across from her continued, "our company can guarantee that all the assets will..."

The meeting room door suddenly opened. It did not open slowly, as though someone had knocked and waited for permission. It slammed against the wall with a loud crash, resembling an angry mother and wife who had finally lost her patience rather than a guest arriving at a business meeting. Every conversation stopped. Several people turned toward the entrance, while the guards in every corner of the room moved almost simultaneously.

Harinette lifted her head. For the first time that night, her thoughts came to a complete halt. You stood in the doorway. The red dress you were wearing stood out against the dark colors of the room. Your hair was slightly disheveled, perhaps because of the long journey. Your face was pale, but your eyes were red with anger. Tears glistened in both eyes, gathering there without falling. In your hand, a pistol was aimed directly at Harinette.

The room froze. The guards immediately raised their weapons toward you, who continued pointing the gun directly at Harinette, even though you knew you would never truly be able to shoot her. The barrels were aimed at you from several directions, some pointed directly at your head and chest. Their movements were so swift that hardly anyone had time to think.

Harinette did not move. She remained seated, her back straight, both hands clearly visible on the table. Her gaze remained fixed entirely on you, not on the pistol you were pointing at her, not on the guards now aiming at your head, and not on the people beginning to whisper in panic around her.

Her jaw tightened. Her eyes darkened. She despised the way the guards were aiming at you, as though you were a threat that needed to be eliminated. It did not matter that you had arrived with a pistol. It did not matter that you had just barged into her meeting. You were still her wife. You were carrying her children. And no one had the right to point a gun at your head without her permission.

"shot and kills three members of my family at once, and I will make certain to cut off both your hands without giving you the chance to die," Harinette said.

The threat was not merely an expression of anger. It was the final boundary she was drawing. In her mind, those guards were no longer simply people carrying out their duties. They were the ones who had pointed their weapons at her wife and children. They had made you feel cornered. They had forced Harinette to choose between maintaining control over the room and destroying anyone who dared to endanger you.

The guards froze. They recognized that voice. They knew the difference between an ordinary order and a decision that could not be negotiated. This was a warning giving them one final opportunity to remain alive with their hands intact.

One by one, they lowered their guns. The guard on the right lowered his weapon first, followed by the one standing near the door. Within seconds, every gun had been lowered almost simultaneously. Harinette watched them carefully.

Harinette briefly shifted her attention to make certain that every weapon had truly been lowered. "Out. it's enough today" she told her business partners.

She gave them no opportunity to ask questions or raise objections. She merely lifted one hand toward anyone who attempted to speak. They immediately stood up, gathered their documents with trembling hands, and left the room through the side door.

The room gradually emptied. The business partners left first, followed by the guards, who still kept their heads lowered. Harinette waited until the door closed and their footsteps had completely faded before returning her full attention to you. Now, only the two of you remained. Harinette continued standing where she was, appearing as calm as you had expected, almost as though she were certain that even if you managed to shoot her right then and there, she would accept it without resistance.

"Pregnant women should not stand for too long, mi amor," she said softly and calmly.

She looked into your furious eyes, her gaze so deep and composed that your hand trembled as you struggled to keep the pistol pointed straight at her.

Instead of lowering the gun, you stepped closer. Your heels struck the marble floor with sharp sounds that echoed throughout the empty room. Every step felt heavy, not because of the long journey or the fatigue that had become more frequent during your pregnancy, but because of the anger and fear pressing against your chest. You did not know which was more painful. The anonymous messages, the photographs showing Harinette with another woman, or the fact that she was now standing in front of you with such composure, as though there were nothing she needed to explain.

Harinette merely raised her chin slightly when you stopped directly in front of her. The muzzle of the pistol pressed against her head, right against her temple. The cold metal could pierce her skull if she said something that disappointed her wife beyond what you could bear. You could see every subtle change in her expression, the tension in her jaw, her controlled breathing, and the dark gaze that never left your eyes.

Heat spread through your eyes, although your tears remained suspended there, refusing to fall. The hand holding the pistol trembled slightly, even as the barrel remained aimed at her. Your fingertips had turned white from the force with which you gripped the handle.

"Easy..." she said cautiously.

Her hand slowly moved to touch your pregnant belly, which was directly in front of her. Her unborn children, her heirs, her most precious treasures. She caressed your stomach with the gentle movement of her palm.

"Your pregnancy hormones are making your emotions easier to ignite. You're more sensitive, more anxious, and quicker to anger. But I will never dismiss your feelings as insignificant simply because you're carrying our children." Harinette lowered her gaze for a moment, looking at your trembling hand around the pistol's grip. She made no attempt to take it away from you. Nor did she order you to lower it. She let out a quiet chuckle, seemingly amused by the sight of you. Even when you were this furious and intended to put a bullet through her head, you still looked like the most beautiful woman in the world to her.

"Did something happen?" she asked, her voice remaining low and calm. "Mi amor...What made you come here and planning to shoot your own husband in the head with the gun she gave you?"

Harinette did not avert her gaze even for a moment. She knew there were too many things swirling inside your mind. She could see it in the way you stared at her, in your irregular breathing, in your fingers gripping the pistol too tightly, and in the tears still trapped in your eyes as though you refused to let them fall in front of her.

She had known you long enough to understand that your anger was more than anger. Beneath it lay fear, disappointment, and a wound you might have carried throughout the journey to that place. You had not come merely to accuse her. You had come because something had made you feel that all the trust you had given her over the years was being taken away, little by little.

"Talk to me, mi amor," she continued, her voice growing softer. "What is troubling your mind?"

The nights at the Gonzalo residence always had a way of making time feel slower. After midnight, the mansion became something almost unfamiliar, even to the people who had lived there for years. The long hallways that were usually filled with the footsteps of servants during the day were now reduced to nothing but the faint hum of the air conditioning and the ticking of an old clock somewhere at the end of the corridor.

The wall lights were left dim. Not bright enough to chase away every shadow. Not dark enough to make you feel completely alone with the cold night surrounding you. Outside the large windows, Madrid had already sunk deep into the night. The city lights looked like fragments of stars that had fallen too far from the sky. Every now and then, the distant sound of a passing car could be heard from the main road before disappearing behind the thick walls of the mansion.

Harinette was still awake. As usual. Her office desk was still covered with documents she had not finished reviewing. Several company files lay open, financial reports were stacked in neat piles that looked almost too organized to touch, and her laptop remained on, its screen filled with numbers and charts. Nothing seemed unusual. At least, not at first. You entered her office without knocking, without announcing yourself, and without any warning. You were carrying a cup of dark black coffee, dressed in an ivory-colored long dress that you would probably change into something more comfortable before going to bed.

You had only come in because you were looking for something. Something simple. A document Harinette had placed inside one of her desk drawers a few days ago because she had not signed it yet and had not properly gone through all of its details. But then you thought, why not give Harinette something that might actually convince her to rest for a while?

Harinette, who was sitting in her swivel chair, lifted her eyes from the laptop screen. The chair shifted slightly as she turned toward you, making a soft scraping sound against the wooden floor. She looked like someone who had been sitting in the same place for far too long. Her back rested against the chair, one hand still holding a pen while the other remained on a file she had not finished reading. She looked exhausted, and her eyes practically begged for sleep. The light from the laptop fell across the side of her face, emphasizing the faint shadows beneath her eyes. Her hair was no longer as perfectly arranged as it usually was. A few strands had fallen near her temples, revealing the strands of gray she could no longer completely hide beneath her hair dye. It made her look more human than the cold, intimidating woman you usually saw when she was leading meetings or dealing with people waiting for her decisions.

Her eyes went to the coffee in your hand first as you approached, then lifted toward your face. It was as if she was quietly taking note of what you had done without needing to ask why. Her chair turned slightly again as she adjusted her position. She crossed one leg over the other, but the movement was not truly relaxed. Her fingers were still tapping the end of her pen against the surface of the desk in a steady rhythm, a small habit that always appeared whenever her mind was too crowded.

“You’re finally learning how to be a good wife to me.” Her voice sounded flat, but the corner of her mouth lifted slightly. It was not quite a smile, only the faintest hint of one that might have gone unnoticed if you had not known her for as long as you did. She watched you from her swivel chair without immediately getting up, as if her body was still refusing to leave the only place that had been the center of her world for the past several hours. In front of her, the laptop continued displaying rows of moving numbers, while you stood behind it with something simple that somehow made it difficult for Harinette to breathe. Coffee, attention, and a presence she had never directly asked for.

There was exhaustion hidden beneath those words. There was also something softer, something that only appeared whenever she saw you come to her without asking for anything in return. Harinette turned her chair slightly to the side, making room beside the desk, then tilted her chin toward you as you reached her and placed the cup of coffee on her desk.

“Thanks, mi amor.”

Harinette followed your movements with her eyes. She watched the way you placed the coffee beside her, the way you carefully avoided the stacks of documents, even the way you stood a little too close to her chair. For a few seconds, she said nothing before leaning forward and giving you a brief kiss on the lips as her quiet way of saying thank you.

“You haven’t gone to bed yet? You should change into something more comfortable.”

Her voice sounded like a scolding, but there was no real anger in her eyes. If anything, there was concern she was trying to hide beneath her usual coldness. Her gaze briefly dropped to the long dress you were wearing before returning to your face, as if she were making sure you had not come here simply because you were forcing yourself to stay awake just to keep her company.

Harinette knew you had another reason for being in her office. She knew the way you stood, the way you looked around her desk, and the way your eyes occasionally drifted toward the drawer on the right. But she did not ask about it immediately. Some part of her simply wanted to enjoy a few quiet seconds of your presence without having to talk about documents, signatures, or whatever problem was waiting for her to solve next.

“Don’t tell me you came all the way here just to make sure I stop working.” The corner of her mouth lifted again. This time, her smile was slightly more obvious, though she still looked tired. “Well... if that’s the case, I’ll stop after this.”

The little lie came out far too quickly. Even Harinette knew you probably would not believe her. There were still several unopened files on the desk, reports waiting to be marked, and numbers on the laptop screen that she had not finished reviewing.

She let out a quiet breath and leaned back into her chair, clearly bothered by the way you were looking at her as though you might actually kill her if she kept forcing herself to stare at the laptop and paperwork. “Don’t look at me like that. I just need to finish a few things.” Her expression softened when she noticed you were still standing beside her.

“I promise. After that, I’ll go to bed.” She said it like a promise, even though deep down, she was not entirely sure she could keep it. For years, sleep had always been something she could postpone. Work, decisions, and responsibilities were much easier for her to deal with than the silence that came whenever she finally stopped moving. But tonight, your presence made those excuses much harder to hold onto.

Harinette reached for the coffee you had brought her, but she did not drink it immediately. She simply warmed her palm against the cup, watching the thin steam rise slowly from it before finally taking a sip of the warm coffee her wife had made for her. Her eyes followed your movements as you began opening the drawers of her desk. Harinette did not stop you. She only watched quietly, although something subtle had changed in her eyes.

She knew exactly which document you were looking for. The file she had set aside a few days ago. The one she had not signed because there were still a few sections she wanted to review again. Harinette had kept it in the same drawer, a place she never expected you to look through. She lowered her cup back onto the desk, thinking that perhaps it was finally time to let you know about this. Inside her mind, she imagined the possibilities she had always forced herself to push away. That she could be shot tomorrow. That a single bullet could end her life before she ever had the chance to say goodbye. Or that she could die quietly, surrounded by enemies who had been hunting her for years. She had lived among threats for far too long to believe death was impossible. Every trip, every meeting, even the quietest night always carried the possibility that she might not make it home.

What frightened her most was not her own death, but the thought of what would happen to you afterward. She imagined you standing alone in a house that was far too large, surrounded by people who might come with demands, threats, or lies. She imagined you reaching for the protection she had always provided, only to find no one there. That was why, long before you ever knew anything about it, she had already started preparing something. Not because she was certain she would die, but because she knew the world never promised that she would always have enough time to say goodbye.

“Not that one. The drawer underneath it.” Her voice was calm, but the calmness felt almost too measured. As if she was trying to guide you without actually stopping you from searching. There was a brief pause before she continued, and during that pause, her eyes dropped toward the drawer you had just opened. “The very bottom one. All the way in the back.” Her tone did not change, but something subtly hardened beneath it. It was not an order. It was not a warning either. It sounded more like someone who had just realized that a secret she had carefully hidden for years was now only a few centimeters away from your hands.

She said nothing else. She did not warn you. She did not ask you to stop. Perhaps some small part of her was already tired of carrying everything alone. Or perhaps she knew that sooner or later, you deserved to know what she had prepared for you. You found the file. It was neatly arranged inside a dark blue folder, tucked behind several old documents that had not been touched in a long time. The folder looked simple, but it was far too clean compared to everything else inside the drawer. There were no folded corners. No coffee stains. No fingerprints or signs that it had been opened often.

As if Harinette had never actually used it. As if she had only been waiting for someone to find it. You carefully pulled the folder out. Beneath it was a small black box, almost hidden against the back of the drawer. The box had no Gonzalo family emblem, no company name, and no engraving. Just smooth black leather with a tiny lock on the front.

You opened the blue folder first. Inside were several legal documents, bank statements, powers of attorney, and investment reports written in formal language and filled with financial terms. Some pages had small sections highlighted with a thin marker. There were also short handwritten notes from Harinette along the edges of the papers, neat and precise, like reminders written by someone who did not want to forget something extremely important. You only needed to attend the meeting tomorrow and hand over the documents on Harinette’s behalf.

But your attention soon shifted to the black box underneath it. Your curiosity would not let you ignore it. Eventually, you opened it. The box was not locked. Inside was a pitch-black bank card. Harinette’s name was printed across the front in small, neat lettering. You recognized the card. Or at least, you thought you did. Harinette had owned a similar card before. An old card she used for various personal expenses. You had seen it inside her wallet a few times, even though she rarely used it in front of you. You had never asked about it either. You picked up the card.

You walked toward Harinette a little faster than before. The card was still held between your fingers, but your grip had changed. Tighter. As though the little piece of plastic had suddenly become another piece of evidence of one of Harinette’s habits that always managed to annoy you. From where she sat, Harinette noticed the change immediately. She saw your tense shoulders, the slight crease between your brows, and the way your lips moved as if you were holding back several things you wanted to say.

Harinette did not stand. She remained seated in her swivel chair, her back still resting against it, one hand holding the coffee that was slowly losing its warmth. But all of her attention had shifted toward you. The laptop in front of her was still on, the numbers still moving across the screen, but she was no longer seeing any of them. Her eyes followed only your approach. She knew that expression. It was the annoyed look you always had whenever you found something of hers somewhere you thought it should not be. Harinette had seen it when you found her car keys buried beneath company files. She had seen it when she left her passport on the dining table. She had even seen the same expression when you discovered her watch sitting in a kitchen drawer because she had forgotten to put it back after breakfast.

Not because you thought anything serious was wrong, but because you assumed Harinette had once again done what she always did. She had put something valuable somewhere carelessly, ignored basic security, and acted as though nothing in the world could ever truly be taken from her. You stared at her in annoyance, wondering how she could possibly keep such an expensive card inside a drawer that was not even properly locked. How could she leave it tucked behind documents as though it had no value at all?

Harinette watched your expression. She knew exactly what you were thinking. For the first time that night, the corner of her mouth twitched as though she almost wanted to laugh. “Stop looking at me like that. I put it there on purpose for you to find. Take it. It’s yours.”

Her voice was calm. You continued staring at her, confusion written plainly across your face. You looked at the open drawer, then back at Harinette. Not a single part of her explanation made sense. You stared at her as though you were not sure you had heard her correctly. Harinette did not look away. She simply let you process what her words actually meant. Harinette rose from her chair. Her movements were unhurried, but there was a seriousness to them that instantly changed the atmosphere of the room. She closed her laptop, letting the light from the screen fade until it disappeared completely. “Every month, I put part of my money into this account,” she said quietly. “A considerable amount. I deliberately kept it separate from my main accounts, the company’s assets, and anything that other people could easily get their hands on.” She paused for a moment, as though she was carefully choosing the right words to make you understand.

“This card is for your future.” Her expression softened, but her voice remained firm. “For you and our children.” The words hung in the air. Harinette knew that sentence alone would leave you speechless. She knew you would probably start thinking about how much money she had saved, why she had done it, and why she had kept something this important from you for so many years.

The surprise that had initially lasted only a few seconds slowly spread through you. The annoyance you had felt because you thought Harinette had been careless began mixing with disbelief. Harinette watched the change happen. She saw your grip on the card loosen slightly, as though the small object had suddenly become much heavier than it had been moments ago. Your brows were still drawn together, but not because you wanted to scold her anymore. Now there was confusion, disbelief, and something almost like fear behind your eyes.

You looked at the card again, then at the blue folder in your hand. The documents suddenly felt different. A moment ago, you had only seen them as papers you needed to deliver on Harinette’s behalf. Now every page looked like part of something she had been quietly planning long before you realized there was anything you needed to be prepared for. Your mind raced, trying to connect the card, the account, the investments, and Harinette’s words about the future.

Part of you wanted to laugh because everything sounded completely excessive. Another part wanted to hand the card straight back and tell her she never needed to do any of this. But before those thoughts could become words, the image of Harinette setting money aside every month came to mind. She must have done it when you were not looking. Maybe after long meetings, after going through company reports, or in the middle of nights like this, when the entire house was asleep and she was still alone in front of those numbers. And the realization made your chest tighten. Harinette watched as you remained silent.

She knew you were trying to understand not only how much money she had saved, but why she had done it. She knew you might feel hurt that she had hidden something this significant from you. Maybe you were wondering if she had considered you too fragile to know the truth. Maybe it felt as though she had been preparing a life without herself in it while you had never even been given the chance to talk about that possibility.

Harinette was not doubting your ability to take care of yourself. She was afraid. Afraid that one day you would need her and she would not be there to answer your call. Afraid that all the protection she had given you would disappear with her. Afraid that after she was gone, you would be left in a world she had spent years keeping at a safe distance from you, with no idea who you could trust. You swallowed, but your throat felt dry. The card was still between your fingers. You looked at it as proof that Harinette had thought about your life even when she no longer had the strength to lift you to the highest place in the sky.

“No one knows what’s waiting for us up ahead, mi amor. I’m no different.” The words came from her lips more quietly than you expected. There was no anger in them, only a realization that slowly settled between you and made your chest feel heavier. All this time, Harinette had always seemed like someone who could control everything. She controlled the company, the people around her, even the dangers that came too close. But tonight, for the first time, you saw a boundary she could not command into submission. Death and the laws of nature.

You did not answer her words immediately. Your eyes remained fixed on her face, as though you were trying to process something much bigger than a simple explanation. You knew Harinette was right. Power, money, connections, and a great family name could never truly guarantee tomorrow. They could only push destruction farther away, not erase the possibility that it might eventually come.

“No one knows what’s waiting for us up ahead. Everything I’ve built could collapse faster than I ever imagined. I could have a bullet through my head tomorrow, or my body might simply become too weak to protect you anymore. So I think it’s time you knew about this.” Her words sounded like something she had been carrying inside her for a very long time. For a moment, Harinette hated herself for having to say any of it. She hated the fact that those possibilities were so easy for her to imagine. A bullet. A betrayal. One small mistake on the way home. Simple things that could change her entire life within seconds.

But what Harinette hated most was knowing she could never promise that she would always make it back to you. She could promise to be careful, to strengthen the security around you, to avoid unnecessary risks. But she could never promise that the world would always give her a second chance.

“Take it. And don’t use it unless you absolutely have to. Everyone might leave one day, but that money will still be there.” She pushed her hand slightly toward the card that was still in your grasp. The gesture was simple, but it felt like she was handing over something much bigger than access to a bank account. She was giving you a piece of the security she had kept to herself all this time, while also asking you to learn how to stand on your own if one day circumstances forced you to. Harinette knew you might never use the card. She knew you might keep it somewhere safe and forget about it for years because admitting the real reason she had given it to you would be too painful. But she still wanted you to have it. Not as a sign of something bad to come, but as a way out if every other door ever closed.

You tightened your grip around the card. The small piece of metal felt cold between your fingers, but its meaning felt unbearably heavy. You wanted to give it back. You wanted to make it clear that no amount of money could ever replace Harinette's presence. But you also knew that was exactly why she had prepared it. She had never believed money could replace her. She only wanted to make sure that her absence would not completely destroy you.

“If I die, you don't have to go back to anyone and beg for protection. Don't get on your knees for someone else. That money is enough to keep you standing.” Harinette's voice weakened slightly on the last words, even though she tried to hide it. She looked at you with such seriousness that it almost became difficult to hold her gaze. Behind that usual firmness, you could see the fear she had kept locked away for years. Harinette had never been afraid of dying. What frightened her was what might happen after she was gone. People would see you as someone who was easier to attack, even her own sisters. She knew the world she left behind would not suddenly become kinder just because you had lost your husband. There would be people trying to take advantage of you, people who would assume you had no power without her, and others who would come carrying fake sympathy while quietly looking for something they could take from you.

That was why she wanted to leave you something that could not easily be taken away. Not just money, but choices. The ability to refuse. The chance to leave. The freedom to never have to kneel before anyone just to earn your own safety. “That money is enough to give you a home, security, and a life that doesn't depend on anyone's mercy.” Harinette stepped closer. The distance between you narrowed, but she did not touch you right away. It was as if she wanted to give you space to take in everything she had just said. Her eyes lowered to the card in your hand before returning to your face.

She imagined you living in a house far away from danger, with doors you could lock without having to wait for guards to check every corner. She imagined your children growing up without having to understand too early why their family name made certain people afraid. She imagined you having a quiet life, even though she knew that quiet would never truly feel the same without her. You felt your eyes beginning to burn. Harinette noticed, but she did not mention it. She simply raised her hand and gently touched the side of your face, her thumb brushing over your skin as if that small touch could erase every dark possibility she had just placed in front of you.

“It is enough to make sure you and our children don't lose everything just because I'm no longer here. Give them the education they deserve. You understand, mi amor?” The question sounded almost like a final request, even though Harinette did not say it that way. She wanted you to understand that none of this was because she doubted you. It was not because she thought you were incapable of taking care of yourself. It was the opposite. She knew you would try too hard to stay strong, even when there was no one left for you to lean on.

Harinette waited for your response. For the first time that night, she looked genuinely uncertain. She could face threats, betrayal, and decisions that could determine the fate of countless people. Yet waiting for your reaction made her far more nervous than any of those things. Amid the silence of the office, the soft hum of the air conditioner, and the ticking clock echoing from the hallway, Harinette lowered her face toward your hair. She said nothing else. There were no new promises leaving her lips, because she knew no promise could truly defeat the uncertainty of the future. But her embrace said what she could not. As long as she was still alive, she would keep trying to come home to you. And if one day she failed, she wanted to make sure the love she left behind would never become the reason the people she loved most were destroyed.

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