The Househusband Was a Hidden Monarch

Chapter 3

The doors of the sleek black car opened and a tall man in a dark tailored suit stepped out. His hair was already gray at the temples, but his posture was straight and the moment his polished shoes touched the ground, he walked quickly toward Cassian and bowed deeply without hesitation.

“Master.”

Cassian’s lips curved slightly. The bored look still sat on his face, but there was faint amusement in his eyes now, it was like a predator finally stretching after a long sleep.

“So you people still remember how to show respect,” he said lazily. “I was starting to think a few years of hiding had turned me into a ghost.”

The old man straightened but kept his head slightly lowered. Even standing before a man who looked casually dressed and unremarkable, his attitude was extremely cautious.

Cassian slid his hands into his pockets.

“Well,” he continued calmly, “since everyone now knows I’m breathing again… it’s time to start collecting debts.”

His gaze turned sharp for a brief second.

“What about the investigation you're into?” he asked. “The people who killed my mother, are there any leads now cause waiting is tiring.”

The old man hesitated.

“We… reached a dead end, Master,” he admitted. “The trail was wiped clean. Whoever planned that attack was extremely careful. However, we compiled a list of individuals involved. They are numerous… but they appear to be pawns. Disposable pieces used to carry out the operation.”

Cassian smiled but it was definitely not a warm smile, it was the kind that made the air feel slightly colder.

“Good,” he said. “Then I’ll start with the so-called pawns.”

His tone was calm and almost casual, like he was talking about clearing weeds from a garden. But the old man knew very well what that meant. When Cassian decided to move, entire circles trembled.

After a moment, the old man spoke again.

“Master… now that your power has returned… will you go back?”

Cassian raised a brow slightly.

“Back where?”

“To your former circle. The underground factions. Your own world. Everyone believes you died years ago. If you reveal yourself now...”

Cassian shrugged before he could finish.

“Not yet,” he said simply.

His eyes looked distant again, like nothing in the world truly interested him.

“There are still things to do here. Besides…” he added with a faint smirk, “I just got divorced. Let me at least enjoy my freedom before I start slaughtering people. Don’t rush me.”

The old man didn’t dare smile and instead he only bowed again.

“As you command, Master.”

Cassian waved a hand lazily.

“Leave. Keep watching the situation. Don’t make too much noise yet.”

“Yes, Master.”

The man turned and returned to the car. Within seconds, the convoy started moving again, engines roaring softly as the expensive vehicles disappeared down the road one after another.

Cassian watched them go and then he sighed and stretched his arms above his head, his joints cracking lightly.

“Troubles are lining up nicely,” he muttered. “How nostalgic.”

He was about to leave when another engine sound approached.

A single car pulled up right in front of him and the door opened and a strange woman stepped out.

The young woman was smiling, not politely or shyly but like someone who had just found something very interesting.

Her eyes locked onto Cassian as she began walking toward him.

Cassian narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at the woman walking toward him. He was certain he had never seen her before. 

She didn’t look like someone from the underground circles but there was something about her confidence, the way she walked straight toward him without hesitation, that made him pause. 

Most people either feared him without knowing why or tried too hard to impress him. This one… looked amused.

She stopped right in front of him and grinned.

Cassian gave her one of his strange looks, the kind that carried boredom, sarcasm, and a silent warning all at once.

“Are you lost?” he asked lazily. “Or is this some new city service? Beautiful women picking up divorced men from the street?”

Instead of answering, the woman calmly opened her handbag and pulled out a document.

She unfolded it and held it up in front of him.

“A marriage contract,” she said.

Cassian blinked and for the first time since activating the pendant, real surprise crossed his face.

“What?”

His eyes moved quickly across the paper. His name was there. Clear and undeniable. Signed with an old family seal he knew too well. His brows slowly drew together as he read the clauses, the witnesses and the dates.

“In simple terms,” the woman continued with a relaxed smile, “we have a marriage contract. Between you and me.”

Cassian let out a short breath that almost sounded like a laugh.

“This is getting interesting,” he muttered.

In truth, his family had once been one of the top families in the city. Not just wealthy, but powerful in ways most people couldn’t understand. They had connections in both the open world and the hidden circles. 

His mother had managed everything yet in all those years, she had never once mentioned anything about a marriage contract.

After her death… he stopped caring.

He had sealed his identity, staged his death, and allowed rumors to spread that the family was finished. Enemies celebrated, some allies scattered and the once-feared name quietly faded from the city’s memory.

Cassian lowered the contract slowly.

“So let me get this straight,” he said, his voice calm but edged with sarcasm. “I fake my death, live like a househusband for years, get divorced tonight… and now a random woman appears with a contract saying she’s my fiancée?”

He looked at her again, this time more carefully and added, 

“You really picked a dramatic timing.”

The woman didn’t smile this time.

She simply stared at Cassian, her eyes sharp and steady like she was measuring him. 

There was no shyness or hesitation, just a direct pressure that most men would find hard to endure. Cassian tilted his head slightly clearly unimpressed.

“So,” he said casually, “you came all this way to cancel the contract, right? Makes sense. I’m recently divorced, officially useless. Not exactly prime husband material.”

The woman shook her head.

“No.”

Cassian’s brow lifted a little.

“I came to honor it,” she said calmly. “My parents want to marry me off as a business tool. I don’t intend to let them decide my life. If we register our marriage first, their plans collapse.”

She paused, then added in a flat tone, “You don’t have to worry. I won’t interfere with your life. You can meet whoever you want. I won’t stop you and definitely won't boss you around.”

Cassian stared at her for a moment.

He opened his mouth slightly as if about to refuse and then she spoke again.

“I’ll give you five million immediately after we sign. Your monthly allowance will be five hundred thousand. After two years, I’ll give you another two million and we can divorce if you want to walk out.”

Silence fell between them and Cassian slowly let out a breath.

“Well… that escalated quickly,” he muttered.

He wasn’t stupid. The moment she mentioned numbers like that, he understood. She had clearly investigated him. She knew about his so-called househusband life. She knew he had just been thrown out of the place he'd been for years. She probably thought she was rescuing a financially dependent man who had nowhere to go.

A faint smirk appeared on his lips.

“Congratulations,” he said lazily. “You’ve successfully found the cheapest way to hire a fake husband in this city.”

But he didn’t refuse, instead, his bored eyes turned thoughtful.

A new identity and a legal marriage into another family, it was a perfect excuse to move freely among the major clans and corporate factions without drawing suspicion. If he wanted to investigate the people behind his mother’s death… this was actually convenient.

Cassian shrugged.

“Fine,” he said. “Let’s get married.”