"If we're having soup, shouldn't a married couple drink it together? Seems like it'd taste a little... different."

Lancelot thought for sure Calista would get all flustered and push him away. But nope-ears a little red, she just gazed at him with that look in her eyes.

"You're totally right, babe. There's something special about sharing it."

She really thought he'd win by making her blush again? Yeah right. Lumi had once said, in a game of flirt vs. counter-flirt, the shameless one always wins.

"Want some more, honey?"

Calista glanced at Lancelot's tense expression, grabbed the spoon, and moved to feed him again.

Lancelot let go of her and cleared his throat as he stood up. "Nah, you finish it. I've got work stuff to handle. If you need anything, just ask the butler."

"Alright, but come home early, okay? I'll be waiting right here."

Watching him leave in such a rush, Calista couldn't help but giggle behind her hand.

Oh man, did he really just flee like that? Was that his version of running away?

Hearing her last line, Lancelot nearly slipped. He was seriously starting to wonder-was letting her stay here the worst decision he'd ever made?

If wives came with a return policy, he'd be the first in line.

*****

Two hours later, Calista was fresh out of the shower, munching on a fruit platter and bombarding Lancelot with messages.

[Babe, you're still not home? I'm waiting for you to go to bed.]

[Don't drink too much tonight, okay?]

[I'm already showered and on the bed, waiting~]

Her texts popped up one after another, blowing up Lancelot's screen like popcorn.

He narrowed his eyes, that handsome face of his now shadowed with helplessness.

Tristan, sitting next to him and noticing the constant buzzing, leaned over curiously. When he caught sight of the screen filled with "babe" and cutesy words, his eyes widened.

"Whoa-since when do you have a girlfriend? Thought you weren't even into girls..."

"My wife," Lancelot corrected flatly, giving him a side-eye while grabbing his phone.

Tristan nearly spit out his drink. Did he hear that right?

Wife?

When the hell did Lancelot get married?

"Wait-are you serious?"

Tristan had been about to crack a joke, but seeing how dead-serious Lancelot looked, he blinked in disbelief.

"Anyway, let's stick to what we discussed earlier. I'm heading home."

Lancelot didn't bother explaining anything else. He got up, barely sparing Tristan a glance, and walked off.

"Hey! Dude, you're seriously gonna leave without telling me who you married? I don't even know her name!"

Lancelot didn't respond, his figure disappearing through the door. Tristan could only stomp his foot in frustration.

Unreal. What kind of friend keeps a marriage a secret?

Who was the mystery woman calling him "babe" anyway?

Did Lancelot really get hitched? This had to be the biggest shocker of the year. He was definitely gonna dig around and find out who she was.

*****

"Calista, get down here!"

The moment Lancelot walked into the villa, reeking of alcohol, he spotted his prized orchids tossed in the trash like weeds.

Those orchids weren't just rare-they were basically irreplaceable. He'd spent a fortune to get ten of them transplanted here, only for them to be trashed.

There was only one person clueless enough to mistake orchids for weeds-and it was obviously Calista.

Calista was tidying up the living room-it had just gotten a makeover, and most of the decor still needed placing.

As soon as she heard Lancelot's voice laced with irritation, she dashed out in nothing but a slinky slip dress.

"Honey, you're back! Come check it out-I swear the living room looks way better now than that old-school style you had."

"Go... upstairs and put some real clothes on."

Seriously, what the hell was she wearing again? Was she trying to tempt someone?

He was about to ask her what she did to their garden's centerpiece, but the moment he caught sight of her outfit, his face darkened on the spot.

"Doesn't this look good? Why are you always on my case about what I wear?"

Calista deliberately rubbed her chest area as she leaned closer to him.

Just as expected, he blushed a little, but kept his poker face.

She was about to touch his cheek when he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her with an all-too-cold tone. "Calista, are you begging me to throw you out?"

"Come on, babe... don't be mad."

"Talk properly."

That "babe" hit him square in the nerves.

She's doing it on purpose. No doubt.

"I am talking properly."

Calista widened her eyes in innocence, stood on tiptoe, and lifted her hands in front of him.

"Honey, look-I've been slaving away in the kitchen all for you."

"Serves you right. Who told you to cook? The house's got a chef, it's not like we're broke."

Lancelot froze for a second, his gaze landing on her hands as she edged closer. Something inside him twisted, but he kept his face tight and unreadable.

"Chef's food doesn't hold a candle to mine," she mumbled under her breath, lips pouting.

Ugh. He really didn't get romance at all. What a buzzkill.

Forget it. She wasn't going to stoop to the emotional level of an uptight old man.

Lancelot, brows furrowed and charm turned icicle, completely ignored her chatter. Instead, he pointed at the orchid pot by the trash.

"You did that?"

"I helped clean up the garden. Seriously, why were you growing so many weeds?"

Calista tilted her head and gave him that classic "I'm doing you a favor" look.

"That's... a premium orchid."

Lancelot looked at her wide-eyed, innocent face and almost coughed up blood.

He wanted a refund. Right now.

This little demon must've been sent just to drive him insane.

"An orchid? Since when did orchids look like weeds? My bad, babe. I'll get you new ones."

She genuinely didn't know those were prized orchids-looked like weeds to her, and she was trying to help.

"Forget it."

He spat out the words coldly, didn't even glance at her, and just went upstairs.

Seeing how mad he was, Calista nearly rolled on the floor laughing, clutching her stomach-he was just too entertaining.

Seriously, how could Lancelot be this much fun to mess with?

When it came to emotional intelligence, even their son Lucas could beat this guy hands down.

Speak of the devil.

Her phone buzzed. One look, and her smile disappeared, replaced by a chilling indifference.

[Calista, don't throw your happiness away like this. I told you, once I take the number two spot in the Bennett family, I'll leave Felicity and marry you. Can't you just wait a little longer...]

[Save it. You'd better start practicing calling me Mom.]

Calista didn't bother reading the rest. Her fingers flew across the screen, sending the message without a second thought.

After hitting send, she shut her phone with a snap.

Honestly, she must've been blind back then-how else would she have fallen for a jerk like Lucas?

But hey, at least that scumbag got scooped up by Felicity. Good riddance.

With that satisfying thought, Calista felt way better. She heated up a bowl of nourishing soup in the kitchen and took it upstairs.

How could a devoted wife like her forget to prep a late-night snack for her husband?

"Babe, drink some soup before you hit the bed," she chirped as she pushed open the bedroom door, catching Lancelot mid-change.

Lancelot's smile froze. He shot her a sharp look. "No need. You drink it. And stop barging into my room-your own has already been arranged by the butler."

Calista blinked, all innocent. "Your room is my room. We're married, remember? No need for boundaries."

Lancelot was speechless. Someone, please take this shameless woman off his hands.

"Come on, take the soup," she said, holding the bowl out like it was treasure.

He was about to grab it when his eyes landed on a cut on her finger. Her earlier words echoed in his head, and his hand paused.

"It's really good, promise. I made it just for you-to help your body recover. I don't want you kicking the bucket too soon. If you die, it better be after I take out your son and Felicity," she mumbled.

Lancelot ignored her ranting. Instead of drinking, he set the bowl on the desk and gently pulled her along to the couch.

"Babe, what're you doing? Soup's best when it's hot. It'll taste gross once it's cold," she whined.

"Quiet." Lancelot's brow twitched with irritation, his tone flat.

Calista pouted, her big round eyes peeking up at him, full of grievance.

Seriously? He was scolding her? She was not taking that lying down.

"Give me your hand."

Just as Calista was roasting him in her head, Lancelot showed up with the first aid kit, his expression unreadable.

She looked up, saw the box in his hand, and immediately caught on.

She obediently held out her hand, her voice soft and full of drama. "Ow, it really hurts."

She was clearly putting on an act-what a waste of acting talent.

Lancelot couldn't help but chuckle. After carefully applying the medicine, he pointed to the door. "Go back to your room and sleep."

"Come on, we're newlyweds. Isn't this the honeymoon phase?"

Calista wasn't gonna let any chance to tease Lancelot slip by.

"You really wanna share a bed?"

He narrowed his eyes, cupped her chin, leaning in so close their noses nearly touched.

Calista's heart jumped at the sight of his perfect face up close.

Trying not to let it show, she copied his move and held his chin too, raising her brows.

"Yup. I'm sleeping with you-unless you're too shy?"

"You made me this ultra-tonic soup. If I don't step up my game tonight, won't I be letting you down?"

Before she could react, Lancelot cut her off, pulled her toward the desk, and downed the whole bowl in one go.

The look in his eyes... way too dangerous to be ignored.

Calista looked at the sly smirk spreading across Lancelot's face and suddenly regretted starting this.

"Scared now?"

Lancelot pulled her closer as he made his way to the bed, his grip tightening just a bit. His lips dangerously close to hers, his voice low and teasing.

Hearing that, Calista's body tensed. Tilting her chin up, she said, "Babe, me? Scared of you? Please. I was just about to suggest some... deeper communication."

Lancelot's eye twitched. Without a word, he tossed her onto the bed, yanked the blanket over her, and said coolly, "Go to sleep. No more nonsense. Or I'll throw you out myself."

"You're not gonna sleep with me?"

Watching him head toward the door, Calista let out a silent sigh of relief, but her mouth wouldn't let her quit teasing.

Lancelot didn't say a thing, just slammed the door behind him sharply on his way out.

Staring at the closed door, Calista rolled around on the bed, stifling her laughter.

That was hilarious! Who knew this serious old guy could be so fun? Looks like turning Lancelot into a wife-doting maniac might not be that far off.

*****

"Babe, time to get up! Let's go for a jog!"

A little before six in the morning, the dreadful sound of Calista's voice echoed in Lancelot's ears.

He'd been in the study working till 2 a.m., finally made it to bed, and now she was waking him up? The way-too-lively kind of wake-up.

With his head pounding, Lancelot looked up to see Calista dressed in sporty gear, ponytail bouncing, looking fresh and full of energy.

"Calista, what on earth are you doing?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhaled, his voice laced with tiredness.

She beamed up at him. "Jogging. Your stamina sucks - you need more exercise. And y'know, when people age, the body starts shutting down all kinds of functions. So it's important to stay active. Let's move it!"

Getting old?

Each word coming out of her mouth felt like a jab. Was she blind? Kept calling him old when he was clearly still in his prime.

Lancelot shot her a sharp glare, trying hard to stay calm. "No. If you wanna run, go ahead. I'm staying."

"What? Are you yelling at me now?"

Calista's lips pouted as she looked heartbreakingly pitiful, tears practically threatening to fall.

Feeling his patience stretch thin, Lancelot turned his back, pulling the blanket over his head.

No way he was giving into her this time. If he kept doing that, she'd be running this whole house in no time.

"If you don't get up, I might actually bite you."

Calista wasn't fazed by his childish stubbornness. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she mocked, "You lie there all day, you'll end up with memory loss. If that happens, I'll just abandon you, take all your assets, and you can be a lonely old man wandering the streets. Pretty tragic, huh?"

Her tone rose, borderline shrieky.

Lancelot's handsome face twitched.

This damn woman... she was insulting him in the sneakiest way.

"Calista."

He drew in a deep breath, trying hard to keep a lid on his temper, but his face was like thunder.

"If you're that bored, go water the plants or organize the garden. Stop messing around in here."

"I don't care, I just wanna go for a morning run. A lovely little jog between husband and wife-aren't you the least bit excited?"

Calista pouted, clinging to Lancelot's arm, looking up at him with those big eyes full of fake sadness.

Lancelot's eyes met her sparkling ones, and for a split second, he looked lost-like something had clicked.

She really is... looking more and more like her.

"Calista, have you ever owned a necklace of Bluewing?"

"What Bluewing? Nope. I'm into pearls. Never bought anything from Bluewing."

His sudden question threw her off. She stared at him like he'd just spoken gibberish.

"Why'd you bring that up anyway? Isn't Bluewing some super old brand? They got bought out years ago and turned into some random overseas label."

"It's nothing... Just overthinking, I guess." Yeah, he must be losing it. What are the odds? After years of searching, the person's been right next to him-his own wife?

"What did you just say? I didn't catch that."

His voice had trailed off. She squinted at him, confused.

Lancelot didn't answer. Instead, he got up and started getting dressed.

"Let's go. Didn't you say you wanted to run?"

Classic unpredictable man... definitely got that mysterious vibe going.

Calista quickly followed after him.

She originally wanted to use the run to get Lancelot's health in better shape. Who knew the guy was already in peak condition?

Meanwhile, she was already huffing like crazy and couldn't keep up. Lancelot, on the other hand, barely looked fazed. Not even a hint of sweat. He shot her a sideways glance.

"You insisted on running, and yet your stamina's garbage."

"Who said my stamina's bad? Race me for 2,600 feet if you're so confident!" Calista's face turned red as she straightened up and challenged him, voice full of pride.

Lancelot gave her a blank look. "And if you lose?"

Calista frowned, thinking hard. "If I lose... I'll make you breakfast."

"Your fingers okay for that?"

His eyes drifted toward the spot on her hand where she'd been injured. Tone totally casual.

This woman really knew how to stir up trouble.

"You're the best hubby ever, seriously. You're worried my injury might mess up my cooking, aren't you? Don't worry, I'm a pro in the kitchen!"

Of course, she knew how to flatter him just right-pure Calista style.

"If you lose, you give me a full shoulders-and-legs massage," Lancelot said with a smirk, reaching out to pinch Calista's cheek.

She slapped his hand playfully in agreement. "Deal. But if you lose, same punishment for you."

No way she was gonna lose to some guy who was supposedly frail!

With her confidence soaring, Calista set off against Lancelot.

Five minutes later-

"Looks like you owe me," Lancelot said, glancing at his watch as Calista finally dragged herself to him-face flushed, panting heavily.

Looking all pink and breathless like that, she somehow seemed even more endearing.

As Calista glanced up at his ridiculously handsome face, she snapped inside.

What the hell? Lumi's intel was totally wrong.

Chronic illness? Rarely seen in public?

This dude was basically a pro athlete! What part of him is 'weak' again?

Fuming silently, Calista stomped over and started giving him the massage she owed.

Lancelot chuckled softly, watching her pout.

Man, she was adorable.