Chapter 3: Uneasy Living
925 Words
Madeline pov
The Oakwood estate was even more imposing in the daylight. Sunlight glinted off the tall windows, and ivy crept along the aged stone walls, giving the place a haunting elegance. For all its beauty, it still felt like a stranger to me—no longer the sanctuary it had been in my childhood.
The air smelled of freshly cut grass and rain-soaked earth. I stood at the base of the grand staircase, taking in the vastness of it all, when Adrian strode into view.
“Daydreaming already, Ms. Hart?” he said, his voice cutting through the stillness.
I shot him a glare. “Just trying to figure out why anyone would want to ruin this place by turning it into a hotel.”
His lips twitched, almost a smirk. “Good thing it’s my decision, not yours.”
I didn’t reply. I’d already made it clear what I thought of his plans, but Adrian Wolfe wasn’t the type to second-guess himself.
Life at the estate quickly devolved into a game of avoidance. Adrian and I had established an unspoken truce: he stayed in his west-wing sanctuary, and I confined myself to the east. Still, the house wasn’t big enough to contain the friction between us.
I’d been up early one morning, sketching in the sunroom, when Adrian appeared. His presence filled the space like an unwelcome shadow.
“Do you ever sleep?” he asked, his tone half-teasing.
I glanced up. He was in workout gear—black joggers and a fitted shirt that, annoyingly, made him look even more intimidating.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I shot back.
He crossed his arms, leaning casually against the doorway. “Work doesn’t wait, Ms. Hart. Neither should ambition.”
“You sound like a motivational poster,” I said, smirking.
To my surprise, he chuckled—a low, rich sound that caught me off guard. “And you sound like someone who has more opinions than progress on her designs.”
The jab stung, but I refused to let it show. “Don’t worry about my progress, Mr. Wolfe. You’ll see it soon enough.”
He didn’t reply, but the way his gaze lingered made my pulse quicken.
By the third day, we were already at each other’s throats.
“You can’t just approve changes to the landscaping without consulting me,” I said, storming into the library where Adrian was working.
He looked up from his laptop, his expression annoyingly calm. “It’s my project. I don’t need your permission.”
“No, but you do need my designs to make this work,” I shot back. “The landscaping affects the entire aesthetic of the hotel. Do you want it to clash or complement?”
He leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. “You’re very protective of this place for someone who didn’t even know she’d be working on it a month ago.”
His words hit a nerve, and I hated that he could see it. “Because it matters,” I said through gritted teeth. “Unlike you, I care about more than the bottom line.”
Adrian stood then, his imposing frame towering over mine. “Don’t pretend to know what I care about, Ms. Hart.”
For a moment, the room was silent except for the ticking of an antique clock. The air between us felt charged, and I half-expected him to say something else—something cruel or dismissive. Instead, he turned and walked away, leaving me to stew in my frustration.
That evening, I found myself wandering the garden, trying to clear my head. The moon cast a silvery glow over the estate, and the cool night air was a welcome escape from the suffocating tension inside.
I heard laughter—soft and tentative—and followed the sound to a secluded corner of the garden.
There, I saw a young woman sitting on a stone bench. She was delicate, with long, dark hair that framed her pale face. She looked up as I approached, her eyes wide with curiosity.
“Hi,” I said gently. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“You’re not,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m Sophie. Adrian’s sister.”
The connection hit me like a jolt. Adrian had never mentioned a sister.
“It’s nice to meet you, Sophie,” I said, sitting beside her. “The garden is beautiful, isn’t it?”
She nodded, her gaze drifting to the flowers. “It’s the only place that feels…safe.”
I wanted to ask what she meant, but something about her fragility made me hold back. Instead, we talked about the estate, the flowers, and the stars overhead.
When Adrian appeared, his expression shifted into something unreadable.
“Sophie,” he said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “It’s late. You should get some rest.”
She smiled faintly and left without protest.
Adrian turned to me, his gaze sharper now. “Stay away from her.”
I bristled. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”
“She doesn’t need you prying into her life,” he said, his tone colder than the night air.
“Maybe she needs someone who doesn’t treat her like glass,” I shot back.
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might argue
. Instead, he turned and walked away, leaving me to wonder what secrets he was hiding.
- Writer
