Eliza Ashton would never have said something as harsh as ‘Have you lost your mind?’ to her beloved husband, no matter what, until now.

But now, she found the traitorous James almost laughable. Perhaps her past life as A-young, whose sharp tongue was a result of enduring the harshness of society, was also influencing her.

Startled by her own reaction, she could not find the words to explain it to James.

He stared at her, his brows twitching as he pressed his lips together tightly, as though suppressing something threatening to slip through.

Truth be told, from the moment he saw his wife going through his documents, he had questioned his own eyes.

He knew without a doubt that his wife could never, under any circumstances, become someone who would betray him.

For her to betray him would be as absurd as claiming that God was dead and the ocean had turned sweet.

At the same time, however, Eliza was an innocent woman. There was no guarantee that the cunning men of their rival, Weburn Bank, wouldn’t take advantage of that innocence to deceive her.

(Though, having often mentioned William’s foolishness, he never once considered that his wife would be taken in by him.)

And yet, Eliza’s reaction just now made James question his own grasp on reality.

‘Eliza… asked me if I’d lost my mind? To my face?’

James would usually have been angry in a situation like this. He never tolerated rudeness from anyone.

But he remained silent, acutely aware of how fast his pulse was racing.

It was an unsettlingly familiar feeling, reminiscent of the surge of excitement he felt when he held a winning hand at the card table, or when he caught his wife frozen in surprise beneath his gaze.

Looking down at the woman in his arms, James found himself questioning the absurdity of it all.

She had never spoken harshly.

Even when she stubbed her toe, the most she would say was, ‘Ouch, that hurts.’

So what exactly was happening to her?

For the first time, she felt unfamiliar to him.

Had he not known her as well as he thought?

The thought — unthinkable as it was — quietly began to take root.

He knew how much care she had put into decorating a home that she wouldn’t live in for long.

When he had sent Martin Sandel on errands, it was for the same reason that he had forbidden him from stepping on her carpets. Just as he could not tolerate others invading his domain, he also could not bear strangers encroaching upon his wife’s space.

However, decorating a house could not be a permanent solution.

What would she do with her time once that was over?

Embroidery, baking, flower arranging…

This small question brought with it a strange, indescribable unease, and he tightened his arm around her waist almost unconsciously.

His gaze fell on her bold lips, which had just spoken insolently to him.

Suddenly, he felt an instinctive resistance rise within him, pushing back against the unexpected desire that had surfaced.

James Ashton did not tolerate displays of affection among his employees at the bank.

He believed that a place entrusted with other people’s money should possess a certain sanctity.

Beasts had no place handling money — to him, that was an undeniable truth.

James Ashton was as strict with himself as he was with others.

Releasing her waist as if casting her aside, he gave his command in a cold voice.

“Tell me. What did you see?”

“…Pardon?”

And then she did it again.

That provocative act — those wide, rabbit-like eyes fixed in place, as though she could be picked up by the nape of her neck at any moment and left completely defenseless.

James let out the tangle of dark emotions stirred by her intrusion into his sacred office, as though expelling something sinful.

“Are you going to tell me you simply thought, ‘There’s a lot of writing on this paper,’ while you went through my documents?”

He wasn’t interrogating her because he truly suspected her.

He simply wanted to resolve the unsettling sense of dissonance she stirred in him.

“……”

But to Eliza, his persistence was genuinely exhausting.

‘Why can’t that man ever stop? Does he always have to push things to the very end?’

Frustration swelled within her, and her small lips trembled, pressing together until they looked even fuller. For a brief moment, James held his breath, trying to keep his blood from rushing anywhere.

‘At this rate, she’ll swat me with some fluffy paw.’

Unaware of how he saw her, Eliza refused to lose.

Suppressing the surge of emotion in her chest, she spoke in a slightly muffled voice,

“Wouldn’t it be risky to finalize these figures now? If a typhoon sweeping across the Southern Ocean hits Silomon…”

“…And then?”

“It means some of this data could change at any time. A typhoon affects both the sea and the land. …Though you would know that better than I would, James.”

That was precisely what he had been waiting for, the consequences the storm would bring.

“……”

As he drew her in, James found himself absorbing everything, his thoughts narrowing to a single, blunt justification.

‘This much…’

‘We’re married.’

‘And above all, she isn’t an employee.’

The fact that a particular woman’s breath could carry a faint sweetness felt, even to James Ashton, like something inexplicably strange.

When he heard the soft thud of documents falling to the floor, a thought crossed his mind.

‘D*mn it. So this is why they can’t stop themselves.’

And Eliza, frozen to the core, could only think—

‘This man is insane. Now I’m absolutely certain!’

James Ashton pulled away from his wife abruptly, showing no change in his views on workplace conduct at Roycobs Bank.

He looked at her; her eyes were wide with shock, as though she had forgotten how to breathe.

Her gaze, filled with emotions he could not begin to understand, trembled with unshed tears. She seemed fragile, as though she might break if anyone so much as touched her.

It was almost pitiful.

With the faintest trace of guilt, James turned away from Eliza.

He had no intention of losing control at his desk.

He would not allow himself to be reduced to a beast, not even by his own wife.

“Clean that up.”

“….”

Eliza pressed her lips together and crouched down beneath the desk, gathering the scattered papers.

After stacking them together as neatly as she could and placing them back on the desk, she began to step away.

“I left the socks with Miss Sierra… I just forgot them because I was in a hurry!”

“Where are you going?”

“…Pardon?”

“The documents.”

“…!”

James quietly took in her stunned expression.

He often did this—observing her reactions without passing any moral judgment on his own actions.

Only after a moment did he speak again.

“You were right. Separate the materials that could be affected by the typhoon from those that won’t.”

“…Pardon?”

As she once again gave him that look—eyes wide, almost trembling as though on the verge of anger—irritation surged within him.

Even if she looked at him like that, it didn’t mean he could suddenly leave work and go home!

‘A woman who could barely meet my eyes before now looks at me like this at every turn…!’

Driven by rising annoyance, he spoke sharply as he turned and left,

“If I’d given it to Sandel, he would’ve sorted it by category at best. The fact that my wife, who came here with a pair of socks, is more useful than a seventh-year employee—what a waste of salary.”

“Ha…”

The moment the door shut behind him, Eliza let out a long sigh and sank down onto the carpet.

She should have been careful—words spoken in daylight might carry—but she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Biting her lip, she muttered under her breath.

“That lunatic bastard…”

Breathing heavily, she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Even though she was alone, she couldn’t relax.

She couldn’t fathom James’ intentions at all. For a moment, she wondered if he suspected her and was watching from outside to see how she would react.

However, James Ashton was not the kind of man who would press his face to a hole in the wall just to spy on a woman.

There was only one answer.

‘Do you hate me that much!’

Wiping away her tears, Eliza began examining the documents.

“You’re not even going to pay me for this… sob…”

***

How much time had passed?

By the time Eliza had straightened up and eased the stiffness from her neck, the sun was setting through the fourth-floor windows of Roycobs Bank.

Glancing at the neatly organized stacks of documents she had arranged on either side of James’s desk, she scoffed in disbelief.

“Why did I have to do it so well…”

Feeling a wave of self-reproach for not being able to shake off the work habits from her past life, she stepped outside.

Sierra greeted her with a bright smile.

“Lady Ashton.”

Eliza returned a faint smile and accepted the garment bag Sierra held out—James’s change of clothes.

The weight of the bag, far from light, stirred a fresh flicker of irritation within her.

‘Honestly, the more I think about it…’

“I’ve already arranged a carriage for you to return home, Lady Ashton.”

“Thank you. Take care, Miss Sierra.”

A few hours after she left, James Ashton appeared, his expression slightly worn after yet another meeting.

Sierra quickly spoke up.

“Your wife has already returned home, sir.”

“……”

James did not respond. Instead, he irritably opened the door to his office and stepped inside.

After closing it behind him, he surveyed the room, which still faintly carried his wife’s scent, and the desk, which was now perfectly organized and tidy.

His brows drew together as he let out a sharp breath.

“Ha!”

Very few people knew that it was actually a sign of deep satisfaction.