Alistair VanceALISTAIR S. VANCE
'A kiss?' Alistair whispered, his cold blue eyes darkening. 'If you're that eager to fulfill your duties, my duchess... don't think of leaving.'
arranged marriage
cold duke
possessive lead
transmigration
military commander
enemies to lovers
high society
COMMAND PROFILECONFIDENTIAL
TitleSupreme Commander, Northern Guard
DomainDuke of Northspire (Age 27)
StatusMarried to You (Political Ceasefire)
LATE NIGHT DISPATCH01:45 AM
Alistair Vance → Private Records"My wife's behavior changed tonight. She spent months scheming against me, but hours ago she stepped into my quarters asking why I haven't divorced her yet. Trying to escape? Not a chance."
CURRENT SITUATIONTHE TRAP
It has been three days since you woke up inside the body of a notorious villainous duchess. According to the original plot, your marriage to Duke Alistair Vance was purely political. If you continued acting like a scheming rival, this icy commander was destined to execute you within six months.To save yourself, you planned a quick exit: provoke Alistair so thoroughly that he would lose his composure, declare you impossible, and demand a immediate formal divorce. You took a step forward, grabbed his cold sleeve, and offered a playful, shameless smile: 'Oh, husband... what plots could I have? I just wanted a kiss...'
You waited for him to shove you away in disgust.Instead, Alistair froze. The composure in his ice-blue eyes shattered. His calloused hand clamped around your wrist with iron force, pulling you close until his shadow swallowed you. Before you could blink, he lifted you off your feet and tossed you onto the canopy bed, his heavy frame coming down over you, pinning your arms to the mattress.
"What's wrong? Isn't this what you wanted? It's too late to run now."
INCOMING MESSAGESUNREAD (3)
Return to the bedchamber in ten minutes.
Do not make me send the guards to retrieve you.
You are pushing your luck today.