The funny thing was, it really had been printed out. Brown, Damian's overzealous assistant, once compiled them into a bound manual-complete with a table of contents, color-coded tabs, and footnotes.
And yet, the unthinkable happened. Beneath his cold, ruthless exterior, Damian began to bend. Livia's soft stubbornness and clueless innocence slipped under his skin until he found himself in a terrifying situation: actually falling for her.
But their path wasn't smooth. Far from it.
Luckily, there was also Hansel Brown-Damian's terrifyingly loyal assistant. To the rest of the world, Brown was flawless, the man who made Damian's empire run like clockwork. To Livia, however, he was the second most infuriating man alive. Naturally, the first was her husband.
So when Livia discovered she was pregnant, she decided it was the perfect time to stir chaos.
Her laugh-low and mischievous-echoed through the Alexander estate. The smile on her lips was the kind that made grown men sweat. And Brown, unfortunately, was standing right there.
That smile wasn't only aimed at Damian. It was aimed straight at him.
"What now?" Brown muttered, eyelid twitching. "She's plotting again. Of course I'll get roped in. Fine-bring it on, miss. Don't test me; I'll get it done."
He wasn't wrong.
Cravings. Cravings. Cravings.
The word haunted Damian like a curse.
He heard it in the boardroom when investors spoke.
He heard it in the elevator chime.
He swore he even heard it echoing from the faucet when he brushed his teeth.
Everywhere he went-cravings.
And as if the universe wanted him to suffer, Dr. Harris had to add fuel to the fire.
"Damian," the doctor chuckled, "it looks like your baby is already taking revenge on you."
Damian's jaw locked. 'Revenge? For what, exactly?! I haven't even met the little traitor yet!'
His rational brain screamed at him to argue. To shout down this ridiculous superstition about pregnancy cravings. But then... he saw Livia.
His curly-haired, nauseous, impossibly stubborn wife.
And all he could do was nod, surrender, and prepare himself to track down whatever bizarre, impossible item she wanted next.
Damn cravings, he cursed silently. This is only the beginning, isn't it?
The First Demand
It started small.
"Damian," Livia whispered one midnight, her voice trembling. "I need pickles."
"Pickles?" he repeated, glancing at the clock. "It's two in the morning."
"Yes," she said sweetly, patting his cheek. "Pickles. With... chocolate sauce."
Brown almost fainted when Damian called him.
"Brown," his boss's voice came sharp through the phone, "find me pickles. And a jar of chocolate sauce. Immediately."
"Sir, it's two in the-"
"Immediately."
And so, Brown sprinted through the night like a soldier on a life-or-death mission, eventually returning with the sacred items. Livia ate three bites, declared herself cured, and fell asleep-leaving Damian staring at the half-eaten mess like it was his greatest enemy.
Escalation
But that was only the warm-up.