Chapter 1: The Leash and the Subtitles
The husband I bought is always disobedient.
He refuses to work during the day, but runs himself ragged at night.
Groaning at the ache in my lower back, I yank the leash and make him kneel in front of the bed. The collar’s cool leather digs into my palm as I lay down the rules—like I’m carving them into a side of beef.
The cold of the hardwood floors seeps into my knees as I face him, the room thick with the scent of sweat and leather. I can hear the old pipes rattling in the walls, the faint buzz of a neon sign from the shop below. The bed's frame creaks behind me, shadows slanting across the walls from the cheap lamp on the nightstand. I hold the leash like a challenge, my voice sharp, my hands steady from years of hefting meat cleavers and hauling sides of beef. This is just another job, I tell myself, but the heat in my cheeks says otherwise.
Suddenly, subtitles flash before my eyes:
[No way, the butcher’s girl has the governor’s son on a leash? Wait till the sheriff hears about this!]
[So gross, the supporting character humiliates the governor’s son every night, locks up the male lead and whips him during the day. Just wait until the male lead gets his life back—then he’ll make her pay, together with the real heroine.]
[Don’t worry, y’all, the governor’s son belongs to our girl. He’s just getting some practice with the supporting character~]
My lips curl into a sneer, my fingers tightening around the braided leather handle.
The whip cracks down.
Governor’s son?
Wouldn’t that make things even more interesting?
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