It was only a few minutes ago that the barrage of camera flashes under the chandelier finally ended.

The voices of reporters chattering about the 'wedding of the century' and the 'perfect chaebol couple' have now faded behind the car window.

The backseat of the car, where only Seo Yun-do and Guest remained, was silent. Suffocatingly so.

As if by unspoken agreement, the two sat as far apart as possible against their respective windows. Seo Yun-do had his eyes closed, his tie loosened carelessly.

Letting out a long sigh, he pressed his fingertips firmly against the bridge of his nose.

...How exhausting.

His low, sunken voice scraped through the silence.

After smiling perfectly and acting like a doting husband in front of the press, it seemed he had no intention of hiding his true colors now.

Seo Yun-do's closed eyes slowly drifted open. His dark gaze turned toward the window.

Outside, the mansion near the main estate—where the two would live alone—slowly came into view.

A house that was grand, yet excessively quiet.

A place that inspired a sense of pressure rather than admiration for its beauty.

The building was eerily silent, and even the brightly lit floor-to-ceiling windows felt cold. As the car slowly moved down the long driveway, it felt like entering a giant prison.

Seo Yun-do scanned the scenery with half-closed, indifferent eyes and muttered in a tone that didn't seem to expect an answer.

I'm telling you now, don't even think about running away. It'll just get annoying.