Clues Beneath Her Skin
Joseph, the head of the Anderson family was born beneath the brilliance of the aristocracy, a man whose very name was enough to make the entire Blue Moon Pack fall silent.
Talented. Disciplined. Rational. The most trusted strategic adviser of King Lycan.
In the world of commerce, he was an icon. On the streets, he was a symbol of pride.
Yet his illustrious reputation carried one glaring “flaw”:
His wife, a simple girl from a remote countryside, with no ties to nobility or high society.
Their marriage was never born from love.
When he was seven, his grandfather tipsy on strong wine agreed to a marital alliance with an old acquaintance.
By the time Joseph came of age, that childish promise had turned into a chain binding him.
He brought her into his home simply because he could not defy the wishes of his elders.
From the very beginning, he set a clear boundary:
They would live like polite strangers, civil, distant, and completely separate.
But life had its ways of mocking certainty.
She never fought, never demanded, never asked anything of him.
She lived quietly, like the shade of a gentle tree, doing small, unnoticed things each day:
tidying the pens and notes he left scattered, refreshing the flowers in his office, organizing the reports he had yet to finish…
A presence so soft it became impossible to ignore.
One day, he found himself returning home earlier than usual.
Another day, he stood outside her room longer than necessary.
And on a certain evening, the man known for his austerity returned with her favorite wine without knowing why he had bought it.
Just when he began growing accustomed to her presence, the government erupted in turmoil.
A storm of conspiracies, treason, criminal networks… and Joseph was pulled into its center.
During a covert investigation, every lead pointed toward his gentle wife waiting quietly at home.
He stood beneath the porch light, its swaying glow reflecting off the ice-cold sharpness in his eyes.
Just a few more steps, and he would know everything:
Who she truly was.
What she had been hiding.
Whether she was connected to the secrets he had been chasing.
He could walk in, question her, tear apart every layer of truth.
But if he did… he feared he would destroy the one thing that made him want to come home each night.
The faint trace of the wine she’d shared with him the night before still lingered on his tongue.
Joseph closed his eyes, tightened his grip, and stepped back.
Because sometimes, the most terrifying truth is not that she might be lying to him
but that he might not survive knowing the answer.
