Chapter Text
The morning after their wedding, Marius woke up to find Artem already dressed.
Of course he was.
Tie perfectly knotted, cuffs aligned like a crime scene, reading The Financial Times at the breakfast table in the solarium like they hadn’t just signed a legally binding contract to ruin each other’s lives in blissful, litigated matrimony.
Marius padded in barefoot, shirtless, hair a disaster. He yawned, scratched his chest, and poured himself coffee.
“You look like a hostile takeover,” he mumbled.
Artem didn’t look up. “And you look like someone who filed for bankruptcy in dignity.”
Marius grinned. “Good morning to you too, spouse.”
Artem arched a brow but said nothing. Just flicked to the op-ed section and sipped his tea.
The marriage license sat framed on the side table. Understated. Tasteful. Signed in matching fountain pen ink at a garden ceremony so elegant it made national news. Kimberly cried. Bryan made a toast that quoted Locke. Austin almost smiled.
The tabloids dubbed them The Empire Marriage.
Marius called it hot mutual tax benefits.
Artem just called it “efficient.”
-
Their bedroom was a minimalist fortress—gray walls, high thread count, tension.
Marius was sketching something abstract in bed, charcoal smudges on the sheets.
“You’re getting graphite on the duvet,” Artem said without looking up from his laptop.
“It’s a metaphor for our marriage,” Marius replied. “Messy. Bold. Visibly expensive.”
Artem sighed. “The metaphor you used at the vows was Kafka.”
“And that was romantic.”
“You compared love to bureaucracy.”
“Exactly.”
Marius rolled over, chin on Artem’s shoulder. “What are you working on?”
“Clause revisions for the nonprofit merger.”
“You’re still editing contracts at 11PM?” Marius pouted. “Come ravish your husband.”
“I amended the prenup. Section 4.3 now states I’m exempt from ravishing duties after 10:30.”
Marius blinked. “You updated the prenup?”
“You violated Section 2.1 by eating in bed.”
Marius was scandalized. “That clause was symbolic!”
“It was not,” Artem said, “I drafted it myself.”
“I hate how much that turns me on,” Marius muttered, then leaned in and kissed the corner of Artem’s mouth.
“Fine. Let’s renegotiate in the morning.”