Devil's Prisoner of Love by Prefer

Nick's kiss landed gently on Irene's forehead, her scent carrying the familiar fragrance of his favorite perfume.

"Irene, you don't dislike me, do you? Otherwise, why would you remember my preferences?"

"I'm sorry." Nick knew she was still brooding over the past. People often said that mistakes led to missed opportunities, but he wasn't willing to miss Irene.

"Mr. Johnson, don't leave me, okay?" Irene's words seemed to drift into another scenario entirely.

Nick could only apologize over and over. "I won't leave you, Christina." Since she had placed herself into this role, he decided he might as well play along as Mr. Johnson.

Irene lifted her head from his embrace, her trembling fingers reaching toward his face. Nick caught her hand and gently placed it on his cheek, wondering if she had something important to say.

He waited in silence, watching her closely. Then, with deep emotion, Irene spoke a sentence he would never forget.

"Mr. Gustafson, do you remember the days we used to share?"

Nick: "..."

"Irene, I'm taking you to bathe." He realized he couldn't keep indulging her whims, or she might drag him into another melodramatic scene.

"No, no, Mr. Gustafson, no! I don't want to!" Irene twisted and flailed as if reenacting a scene from the many dramas she'd been watching lately.

Nick had no choice but to transform into a "tyrant." "Be good, Irene. Take a bath, and I'll give you candy."

A kind tyrant, at least. Anyone who saw Nick like this would be utterly shocked-this was the same cold and ruthless man?

To his surprise, his words actually worked. Irene blinked at him with wide eyes. "Really?

strawberry-flavored candy because I'm

kissed the tip of her nose

draped over the edge of the tub. Nick's thoughts were already wandering. Heaven help him-he really just wanted

gaze turned sultry, her voice

quick of a role switch? Just a moment ago, she was claiming

princess. Now she was

was certain: the night would not be peaceful. Nick resigned himself to serving

complete opposite of Irene. By the time Julian had carried her to bed, she was

gentle little rabbit, her fingers clutching his shirt as though seeking security. Occasionally,

so docile, Julian felt his heart melt. It was as though he were holding

nightly routine, Julian climbed into bed. The alcohol worked its magic, and

first to wake. Having lived alone for years, he was used to attending social

first, he struggled with the routine. With an average tolerance for alcohol, he'd often find himself repeatedly vomiting in the bathroom before returning to drink more. Over time, he built up his endurance and

holidays, and seeing the mess from the previous night, Asher decided to tidy up. With nothing else to do, he cleaned the house and even

the kitchen, yawning, he was surprised to

stretching as he entered. Then his eyes widened. "Wait, you're cooking breakfast? And you already cleaned

respond to the question, merely offering a

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the need to explain himself. When Asher cared for someone, he didn't need others to know about it. In New York, he had grown accustomed to taking

were a woman, I'd marry you on the spot. You're like a treasure-successful, hardworking, and domestic!" Asher shot him

me,"

had never been able to sleep well

night? Didn't sleep

hours of the morning. She only

managed two or three hours of sleep before dragging himself out of bed. "Was it Irene..." Robert teased

frustrated and fatigued?

"Get lost," Nick snapped.