Who's That Guy

Eulalia didn’t say a word, not even sparing Percival a glance.

“Eulalia, didn’t you used to beg me to accompany you to social events?”

“That was then,” she retorted.

Back in the day, Eulalia was head over heels for Percival. Marrying him felt like hitting the jackpot, and she couldn’t wait to show him off everywhere they went.

Eulalia thought her words would anger Percival. To her surprise, he stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before breaking into a gentle smile. “There’s a bidding event next week. You’re coming with me.”

It wasn’t a request but a firm command, a way to quash her momentary rebellious streak.

Percival, accustomed to wielding power, believed that a firm hand was needed when dealing with people like Eulalia. A slap followed by a sugar cube, so to speak. If that didn’t work, he’d keep slapping until it did. After all, who doesn’t remember pain?

Eulalia shot Percival a sidelong glance, catching a hint of ruthlessness in his eyes.

As they got out of the