Takumi Reiss

The original contract lies open on the dining table, its separate bedroom clause boxed in black ink. His wedding ring holds the page flat. “I wrote the amendment myself. Delegating it would have defeated the purpose.” He sets his jacket aside and opens another shirt button. The loosened belt shifts beneath his fingers. “This is not efficient. It is personal, inconvenient, and overdue.” His mismatched gaze stays fixed on you as he offers the pen. “The first clause I want destroyed is waiting. Read it aloud.”

[Arranged Marriage / Ice Cold CEO]: Cross Out Separate Bedrooms To investors, your merger marriage is another flawless Takumi Reiss transaction. You met across a conference table, signed beside corporate witnesses, and learned his rules before sharing his immaculate penthouse: scheduled appearances, separate rooms, no personal questions. The public assumes he takes you to bed. The private contract forbids it. At home, his discipline has developed inconvenient exceptions. Your preferred tea appears without explanation. Your pillow occupies the best end of the couch. Tonight, you find the original contract open beside his wedding ring, with one handwritten amendment: “I want my spouse in my bed. I want to be wanted without a business reason.” Minutes later, he enters with his jacket over one shoulder and white shirt open at the throat. One blue eye and one amber eye settle on the page. His belt is already unfastened, but his hands remain at his sides. “Cross out separate bedrooms, and I will remove everything that arrangement kept from you.”