The first rays of morning sunlight filtered through the window, but the atmosphere inside the penthouse felt no less than a battlefield.
Aanya stood in the kitchen, her face flushed with anger. She wasn't preparing breakfast—she was venting her rage on the utensils.
"Clang! Crash!"
She slammed the frying pan onto the stove so hard that the sound echoed through the entire hall.
Zain, who was walking down the stairs, came to a sudden halt. What he saw made him pause—Aanya was glaring at the utensils as if they were Zain's head.
Aanya (muttering through clenched teeth):
"So I'm a burden? He has to 'tolerate' me? I hate this arrogant man! If I'm such a burden, then why is he eating the breakfast I make? Why doesn't he cook his own 'rich people' food!"
Zain crossed his arms and watched her from a distance. Her shoulder-length hair swayed in the air with every sharp movement. The moment her eyes landed on him, she wrinkled her nose and shot him an icy, hatred-filled glare. Then, tossing her short hair aside, she turned her face away from him.
Zain's inner thoughts (a mischievous glint in his eyes):
"Does she even realize how attractive she looks right now? A wife only gets this angry with her husband when her heart has already started beating for him. Is she provoking me on purpose? How can her face look so soft and adorable even when she's furious? I feel like stopping her right here."
Zain quietly pulled out his phone from under the table and texted Qian:
"Tell me fast—how do you calm a wife who's burning like a volcano?"
Qian consulted Jing and sent back three tips. Zain tried the first one.
He stepped a little closer, softened his voice, and said,
"Aanya… your dress today… this blue color really suits you."
Aanya turned around and scanned him from head to toe with pure disdain in her eyes.
"This is a clearance sale top, Mr. Yan. Cheap and ordinary. Compared to your billions, it's nothing but a stain, right? Keep your compliments to yourself."
Zain's confidence wavered.
First tip: Completely failed.
Zain thought physical touch might work.
Aanya was leaning against the counter, chopping vegetables. Zain moved behind her silently, like a cat. He spread his long arms and tried to pull her into a back hug.
Aanya's instincts flared instantly. Thinking she was under attack, she drove her elbow backward with full force and spun around in a flash, swinging her right hand through the air.
Thack!
A solid punch landed on Zain's jaw.
He staggered back two steps, his hand flying to his mouth. Silence fell over the room.
Aanya's eyes widened in shock. Her anger vanished instantly, replaced by fear.
Aanya:
"Oh… Zain? You… what were you doing behind me? I thought someone was attacking me. I'm so sorry! Does it hurt a lot?"
Zain wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his finger. His eyes locked onto hers. Aanya thought he might drag her into some dark room, but instead, there was an eerie calm on his face.
Zain:
"At least some of your hatred came out with that punch. If hitting me gives you peace, you can use your other hand too."
Just then, the doorbell rang.
Qian's "third surprise" had arrived—a massive chocolate fountain, beautifully set on the table. Its aroma filled the kitchen.
Aanya's resolve wavered. The sight of melted chocolate made her mouth water, but her pride was still wounded.
She lifted her nose and turned away.
"I don't want your bribes. I'm firm in my resolve. I won't even touch this chocolate!"
Zain smiled to himself.
"Stubborn girl."
Every tactic Qian had suggested had failed, one by one. Zain finally understood—Aanya wasn't an ordinary girl who could be won over with sweet words or expensive gifts. She was like a wounded lioness, hiding behind hatred to protect herself.
A sharp, calculating gleam appeared in Zain's deep black eyes.
He looked at Aanya, who was still staring at the chocolate fountain with a mix of disgust and temptation. On the corner of the table lay her thick glasses—the only window through which she saw the world.
In a lightning-fast move, Zain slipped the glasses into the pocket of his expensive silk coat.
Aanya (turning abruptly):
"My glasses? They were right here!"
She waved her hands in the air, searching blindly as if lost in fog. Without her glasses, her big eyes looked even more innocent and helpless. She squinted, feeling along the table, seeing only blurred shapes.
Zain stood directly in front of her like a stone statue. Aanya sensed a tall, deep shadow before her.
Aanya (angry and anxious):
"Zain? Are you there? Give me my glasses! I… I can't see anything clearly. Everything is blurry!"
Zain (deliberately lowering his voice):
"Glasses? What glasses, Aanya? There's only you and me here. Maybe they fell into the chocolate you hate so much."
Aanya:
"Don't lie! I know you have them!"
She stepped forward angrily, misjudged the distance, tripped over the table leg, and lost her balance.
She crashed straight into Zain's solid chest.
His strong arms wrapped instantly around her waist.
Aanya grabbed the lapels of his coat reflexively. Her short hair brushed against his face. The silence was so deep that they could hear each other's racing heartbeats.
Zain lifted a finger and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch sent a jolt through her body.
Zain (leaning so close their breaths mingled):
"Without your glasses, you're seeing more clearly, Aanya. With these blurred eyes… do you still see a villain here? Or just a man carrying the weight of his mistakes?"
Her heart pounded wildly. Without her glasses, Zain's face was a mysterious blur, yet the depth of his eyes pulled her in. The wall of anger she'd built began to melt.
Zain:
"You'll get your glasses back—but on one condition. You have to forgive me. Not for show, but from your stubborn heart. Will you give me a chance?"
Her breathing quickened. She knew he was exploiting her weakness, yet the warmth of his arms gave her strange comfort.
Aanya (stammering):
"This… this is cheating! You're taking advantage of a weak girl! Give me my glasses or I'll punch you again—and next time I won't miss!"
Zain smiled slightly, a smile meant only for her.
"I'm ready this time. Punch me or punish me—but you won't get the glasses until you say yes. Tell me, Aanya… do you still hate me the same way?"
She closed her eyes, sinking into his scent and warmth. She knew she was losing—but it didn't feel bad.
Later, Zain carried Aanya down the stairs because she couldn't walk properly without her glasses. Would she wrap her arms around his neck and accept her surrender?
That day, Aanya went to the office without wearing her glasses, accepting Zain's challenge. Her world was a blur of colors, people nothing more than moving shadows. Yet she carried herself with the sharp confidence of a "Mrs. Yan," even if secretly.
From afar, she spotted a figure—shiny clothes, heavy makeup, high heels.
Her mind judged instantly:
"This has to be Huan Jing. She always wears cheap but flashy brands and thinks she's a fashion queen."
With attitude, Aanya walked up to the figure and spoke without knowing who stood before her.
Aanya (loud and clear):
"Oh Jing! Why are you wearing that Paris-lizard look today? Honestly, with that makeup and those clothes, you look exactly like a Parisian lizard! Just like Mei Wei. You should've asked your friend—me—how to dress. That makeup is so thick, it looks like wall paint!"
Deathly silence swept across the office.
Typing stopped.
The real Huan Jing stood a short distance away, eyes wide open.
Zain and Qian stepped out of their cabins and froze.
As Aanya moved closer, the blurry figure became clearer.
That height.
That rage-red face.
That expensive perfume.
It wasn't Jing.
It was Mei Wei.
Mei Wei (trembling with rage):
"What did you just call me? A Paris lizard?! How dare you, Aanya!"
Employees covered their mouths, struggling not to laugh. Zain turned his face away to hide his grin.
Realizing her mistake, Aanya went pale—but she didn't back down.
She squinted and leaned close to Mei Wei's face, staring at her like an insect.
Aanya (feigning innocence):
"Oh! Mei Wei? Is that you? I thought you were Jing. But honestly, up close, you really do look like a lizard. Is your makeup artist taking revenge on you?"
The entire office burst into laughter.
Humiliated, Mei Wei was about to cry when Zain stepped forward.
After insulting Mei Wei, Aanya tried to sit at her desk but struggled even to reach it, touching the keyboard as if it were a bomb.
Her best friend Huan Jing rushed over, followed by Mei Wei and curious employees.
Huan Jing:
"Aanya! Have you lost your mind? First you call Mei Wei a lizard, now you're petting your desk. Where are your glasses? Why aren't you wearing them?"
Aanya turned toward Jing's voice, her anger burning—especially toward the one who had stolen her glasses.
Aanya (sharp voice):
"My glasses? A wild animal took them! A beast with no manners, no shame, who loves exploiting others' weaknesses!"
Silence fell again.
Mei Wei sneered,
"An animal? What animal broke into your house and only stole your glasses?"
Aanya snapped,
"He's a cunning beast. Wears a coat, talks big, thinks he's a great hunter—but really, he's just a glasses thief!"
At that moment, the cabin door opened.
Zain Yan stepped out, Qian behind him, trying not to laugh.
Everyone stood rigid in fear.
Aanya only saw a tall, dark blur approaching.
Zain (icy calm):
"Miss Aanya… which 'wild animal' is being discussed here? Has our office security failed?"
Realizing the beast stood before her, goosebumps rose—but she didn't retreat.
Aanya (loud):
"Sir! Since morning, a wild animal stole my glasses and refuses to return them! Shouldn't such an animal be punished?"
She thought she was filing a complaint to the boss—unaware she was accusing him.
Zain's face darkened, fury blazing in his eyes.
Zain (cold roar):
"Wild… animal? Miss Aanya, do you even know who you're talking about—and to whom?"
He scanned the office sharply.
"Why are you all standing here? Does Yan Group pay you to gossip? Back to work. Now!"
Employees scattered instantly.
Huan Jing turned pale and whispered urgently,
"Aanya, stop! Look at the boss's face. He might fire you right now!"
Aanya squinted at the blurred figure.
"But Jing… I only spoke the truth. That animal is really awful."
Zain stepped forward, his woody perfume enveloping her. He grabbed her wrist tightly.
Zain (through clenched teeth):
"Miss Aanya, come to my cabin. I need full details about this 'animal.' And Jing—go back to your desk."
He dragged Aanya toward the elevator.
Inside the elevator, only Zain, Aanya, and Qian stood as it ascended to the 50th floor.
Though everything was blurry, Aanya wasn't helpless. She decided to play a game.
When the elevator jolted, she pretended to lose balance and leaned deliberately toward Qian.
Qian caught her arms instinctively.
"Miss Aanya! Are you alright?"
She leaned closer, smiled mischievously, stroked his sleeve, and said sweetly,
"Oh! Thank you, my dear husband. I knew you wouldn't let me fall."
Qian looked electrocuted.
Zain's face turned pitch black.
Zain yanked her away.
"Qian! Stop the elevator and get out. Now!"
Qian fled the moment the doors opened.
The elevator closed again—only Zain and Aanya remained.
Aanya dropped her innocent act and jabbed a finger into his chest.
Aanya:
"Give me my glasses, Zain! I know they're in your pocket. I can't stand this blurry world or your animal behavior anymore. Give them back—or I'll call Qian my husband again!"
Zain slammed her against the wall, breath heavy with rage and desire. He pulled out the glasses—but didn't return them.
Zain (low whisper):
"So all that was an act? You were provoking me? Aanya, you're playing with fire. Do you know a beast doesn't tolerate anyone touching what belongs to him?"
He raised the glasses out of her reach.
Aanya jumped angrily, drawing even closer to him.