Married to My Arresting Officer

I used to think the most embarrassing moment of my life was when my neighbor called the cops on me for testing "special" game sound effects.

That was before the door opened to reveal a devastatingly handsome police officer who accused me of hiding someone in my apartment—and casually informed me he was my husband of three months. A husband I'd never actually met.

The worst part? He had proof.

Now this impossibly attractive stranger isn't just forcing his way into my life—he's become the unwitting inspiration for my new game's male lead.

"Don't... please... it hurts..."

The breathy moans filtered through my headphones as I adjusted the volume parameters.

As lead designer at Nexus Games, I was running final sound tests for our new title, "Badge & Heart".

Damn it. Why was this bondage scene so hard to get right?

I pulled off the headphones, wanting to hear the nuances more clearly. Instantly, those "Ah... no... let me go..." sounds filled my quiet apartment, amplified and incredibly... vivid.

My face went beet red. Three years designing otome games professionally, and adult content still made me flush like a teenager.

The truth was, I had zero practical experience with this kind of... intimate stuff. All my design inspiration came from online research and references from other games.

Every time I worked on these scenes, I felt like a high schooler sneaking peeks at her older brother's magazines—heart pounding, palms sweating.

Especially lately, living alone in this empty apartment, these sounds made me think about things I'd never actually experienced.

The sudden pounding at my door made me jump. I frantically killed the speakers.

Oh God, please don't be... the neighbor.

I thought of that nosy woman next door who loved sticking her nose into everyone's business.

"Open up! Police!"

What?!

My stomach dropped. Police? Why the hell would the police be at my door?

I quickly ran my fingers through my messy hair and rushed to the entrance. Peering through the peephole, my breath caught.

Outside stood a tall man in a crisp police uniform, broad shoulders, trim waist.

Even through the peephole's distorted view, I could see he had a jawline that could cut glass.

Holy hell. So this is what they mean by "hot cop."

I mentally slapped myself. Not the time, Delaney!

I opened the door, trying to look composed.

"Good evening. Officer Sterling, Seattle PD." He flashed his badge. "We received a noise complaint from your neighbor. I need to ask you some questions."

"Oh, sure." I nodded, actively avoiding staring at his unfairly handsome face.

But then he opened his mouth and said something that made my brain short-circuit:

"Besides me, are there any other men in your apartment right now?"

"I'm sorry, what?" My voice came out higher than intended. "What kind of question is that?"

This ridiculously attractive cop's gaze swept past me into my apartment, his perfect face completely serious.

"Your neighbor reported unusual sounds suggesting multiple people in distress. I need to conduct a safety check." His voice was deep and smooth, but his tone was pure business.

"So I'll ask again—besides me, are there any other males on the premises?"

I couldn't process what I was hearing. What did he just say? "Besides me"? What the actual hell? Who did he think he was?

"Okay, hold on!" I held up my hand, blocking the doorway, glaring at him. "What do you mean 'besides you'? Who the hell do you think you are to me?"

He blinked, looking slightly surprised by my reaction.

"I'm your husband, actually." He said it like he was commenting on the weather.

"WHAT?!" I exploded. "Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

I was shaking, my voice climbing:

"Is this some kind of joke? Do all Seattle cops just show up at random doors claiming to be people's husbands? I'm reporting you! I'm calling your supervisor right now!"

The angrier I got, the louder I became, jabbing my finger toward his badge:

"This is insane! We don't even know each other! You think that uniform gives you the right to—to—"

Sure, he looked like he'd stepped out of a cologne commercial, but this was completely unhinged!

"Somebody help!" I shouted down the hallway, hoping someone would hear. "There's a crazy person at my door!"

Something flickered in his eyes—frustration, maybe, or resignation.

"Delaney, just—please calm down." He raised his hands slightly, trying to placate me. "Let me explain—"

"How do you know my name?!" My voice cracked. "Oh my God, have you been stalking me? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I backed up several steps, my heart hammering: "We've never met! How do you know who I am? This is—this is terrifying!"

First he claims to be my husband, now he knows my name? This guy was either completely delusional or dangerous.

"Don't come any closer!" I warned, watching him like he might pounce. "I swear to God, I'll—I'll—" I fumbled for my phone. "I'm calling 911 right now!"

He exhaled slowly, looking genuinely exhausted. "I am 911, Delaney."

"Then I'm calling your captain! Show me your ID. I want your name and badge number!"

Looking resigned, he reached into his uniform pocket and pulled out his police credentials.

As he handed them over, a photograph tucked inside slipped out and fluttered to the floor.

I bent down automatically to pick it up. The second I saw what it showed, everything stopped.

The photo captured two people in costume—a woman in a pink bunny outfit, a man in a police uniform, arms wrapped around each other, both grinning like idiots.

And that woman... was definitely, unmistakably me.