The debt of marriage
The next morning, around 7 a.m., Anya's eyes fluttered open. Soft sunlight filtered through the curtains, brushing her face with warmth. Her gaze shifted—and there he was.
Zain lay fast asleep on the couch.
For once, his sharp features had softened. His usual cold expression melted into something almost innocent—almost childlike.
Anya sat up slowly, her lips curving into a faint, wistful smile. She whispered to herself, voice trembling between tenderness and bitterness—
"Mr. Heartless… you look so gentle when you're asleep. Just like a child. But when you're awake… you're nothing less than a wolf."
Her hand hovered hesitantly, then brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead.
Suddenly, Zain's eyes opened. His gaze locked onto hers—sharp, playful, and teasing. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Miss Lu… or should I say, Mrs. Yan—my wife."
Anya froze, her hand still in mid-air. Her heart skipped before her face hardened.
"Who would ever like someone like you… a wolf in human skin?"
Zain chuckled softly, his voice low and dangerous.
"Oh really? Remember… a wolf never lets go of his prey."
Before Anya could retort, a cheerful knock echoed on the door.
"Brother! Sister-in-law! Breakfast is ready!" Amelia's lively voice rang out.
Startled, Anya quickly pulled her hand back.
"Let go! I'll be late," she muttered, flustered.
Zain loosened his grip with a half-smile, watching her rush toward the wardrobe. She grabbed her clothes and headed for the bathroom.
Just as her hand touched the door handle, another hand covered hers. She turned—Zain was right behind her, his tall frame leaning close. Their eyes clashed in silent defiance.
"I'm going first," Anya said firmly.
"Because my hand was here first," he countered smoothly.
Zain's smirk deepened as he leaned closer, voice brushing against her ear.
"Really? Don't forget, this house belongs to my family. If I want, I could throw you out right now. Which means… I'll be taking the shower first."
Anya pressed her lips into a thin line, refusing to be intimidated. Calmly, she replied,
"Alright. But if I tell your mother you threatened to throw me out… let's see who gets in trouble first."
Zain's eyes gleamed with amusement.
"So now you're threatening me?"
"Not a threat." Anya crossed her arms, her tone sharp yet steady. "A solution."
His brow arched. "A solution? I'm curious—what kind?"
Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
"We'll settle this with Rock-Paper-Scissors. Winner showers first."
Zain blinked, then laughed incredulously.
"What? That's so childish."
"Yes. Exactly. I've been settling things like this since childhood. And I'm not changing now."
Zain shook his head in mock exasperation.
"Unbelievable… fine. Let's play."
They counted together.
"One, two, three!"
Anya's hand came down as Rock. Zain revealed Scissors.
He lost.
Anya's lips curved in triumph. She tilted her head sweetly.
"Now, dear husband, kindly remove your hand so I can take my shower."
With a mix of frustration and reluctant amusement, Zain stepped aside, draping a towel over his shoulder.
"Fine, you won this round. But next time… I'll make sure I win."
Anya brushed past him with a victorious smirk.
"We'll see about that… Mr. Husband."
---
Breakfast Scene
Anya descended the stairs in a light blue collared jacket-style top, paired with a graceful midi skirt and nude-toned shoes. She looked calm, elegant—almost glowing.
Across the table, Zain appeared in a crisp dark blue suit, his aura sharp and commanding. Beside them, Lian sat in soft pink pajamas, her innocence adding warmth to the morning.
As Anya looked around, seeing the smiles of Zain's family, memories of her own father struck her. Her chest tightened, but she forced a faint smile.
Zain's voice broke her silence.
"Mrs. Yan… what are you lost in thought about?"
She lowered her gaze quickly. "Nothing."
Cheng Yan chuckled warmly.
"Son, eat quickly, or the food will get cold."
Anya sat beside Zain, carefully placing steamed buns on his plate.
"This is your home. Eat comfortably," she said softly.
Jia Yan teased with a playful smile.
"Look at how much my son cares for his wife. You never did this for me."
Zain broke a bun and, to everyone's surprise, fed it to Anya.
Her cheeks flushed as Amelia giggled.
"If Adrian were here, it would've been even more fun!"
Anya asked curiously,
"Who is Adrian?"
Zain's expression softened faintly.
"He's my younger brother. He's abroad right now."
After a moment, Zain looked at his parents.
"Mom, Dad, we're going to Shenzhen today—our home. I have work at the office, and so does Anya."
Jia Yan smiled warmly.
"Alright. You both take care of yourselves and look out for each other."
"Don't worry, Mom," Zain replied smoothly, slipping his hand over Anya's. "I'll take good care of her."
Anya's heart skipped at his words—spoken so easily, yet she couldn't tell if they were real or just for show.
---
Tragedy
Soon after, as they packed and prepared to leave, the memories came flooding back—
The gunfire.
The blood.
Her father's trembling hand in Cheng Yan's.
His last wish.
In the operation theater, Ishan Lu's fading breaths echoed like knives in Anya's heart. His weak hand clutched Cheng Yan's.
"Brother… my time has come…"
"No!" Cheng Yan gripped his hand tightly, voice breaking. "Don't say that. You'll be fine. You still have to live—for Anya."
Ishan's eyes brimmed with tears.
"I want to… but the one above is calling me. Please… take care of her. She's always suffered. Don't let her suffer anymore."
His gaze shifted to Zain, who stood silently, one arm wrapped protectively around a trembling Anya. Seeing them together, Ishan's lips curved faintly.
"My decision wasn't wrong. I chose the right man for her."
The heart monitor shrieked.
Doctors rushed.
But his body gave up.
Anya's world collapsed as her father's eyes closed forever. Tears streamed endlessly down her face as she clutched Zain's shirt for strength.
Cheng Yan whispered brokenly,
"He's at peace now… But remember his last wish. Always take care of his daughter."
Zain's jaw tightened, his eyes unreadable. But in his chest, something heavy settled—a vow.
A debt he could never ignore.
That night, as Anya wept silently against his chest, Zain closed his eyes.
This marriage was no longer just a bond.
It was a debt.
A prison.
A vow carved into his very soul