Katherine elegantly prepared dinner for Alpha Luciano in his private kitchen, lost in the rhythm of her culinary dance. As he entered, the air seemed to electrify with his presence. She paused, the knife poised mid-air, as he approached the fridge with fluid grace, fetching a bottle of water.

"Where are my maids?" His deep timbre resonated through the room, drawing her attention. Katherine turned, a vision of grace, meeting his gaze.

"I sent them away," she replied, her voice soft yet unwavering.

"You're a queen, darling, not meant for the kitchen," he chided gently, but Katherine's expression flickered with defiance.

"I am your wife, not just a queen. It's...