CHAPTER 2
1017 Words
Elena stepped out of the car, gripping her suitcase tightly. The penthouse building loomed before her—tall, sleek, and intimidating. This wasn’t just a home; it was a symbol of wealth, power, and control.
Lawrence didn’t even glance her way as he strode ahead. "Keep up," he said, his voice sharp and indifferent.
Biting back a retort, she followed.
Inside, everything screamed luxury. The private elevator was eerily silent except for the soft hum of classical music. When the doors slid open, she was met with a breathtaking view—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the entire city.
The interior was modern and cold, much like its owner.
"Your room is down the hall. Second door on the right," Lawrence said, shrugging off his jacket without another look at her.
A small sigh of relief left her lips. "Separate rooms?"
He finally turned, raising an eyebrow. "Did you think I’d throw you into my bed on the first night?"
Her cheeks burned. "With that contract? Who knows."
A smirk tugged at his lips as he unbuttoned his cuffs. "Go settle in. Dinner is at eight. Don’t be late."
She didn’t bother responding and walked toward the room he mentioned.
The bedroom was massive—bigger than her entire apartment. A king-sized bed with silky sheets, a walk-in closet filled with designer clothes, and a private balcony overlooking the city lights. It was stunning.
But it wasn’t home.
She placed her suitcase down and ran a hand through her hair. How had her life changed so drastically in just a matter of hours?
Her mother’s tired smile flashed through her mind, a painful reminder of why she was here.
This wasn’t about her. This was about survival.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Married to Lawrence Kingston. It sounded like something out of a nightmare.
Her phone buzzed.
Mom: Did you eat, sweetheart?
Her throat tightened. She hadn’t told her mother about the contract. If she knew, she’d never accept it.
Elena: I’m fine, Mom. Get some rest.
Lies. She hated them.
A soft knock on the door made her tense.
"Come in," she called.
A maid stepped inside, her head slightly bowed. "Mr. Kingston asked me to inform you that dinner will be served in the dining room soon. Would you like to freshen up?"
Elena swallowed. "Yeah. Thanks."
After a quick shower, she slipped into a simple black dress. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, but she didn't want to look a mess in his eyes
When she stepped into the dining room, Lawrence was already seated, sipping a glass of red wine. His gazed at her, unreadable.
"You clean up well," he commented casually.
Elena ignored the compliment and took a seat across from him.
The food was extravagant—perfectly cooked steak, roasted vegetables, expensive wine that tasted like money. Yet, the atmosphere was anything but comfortable.
Halfway through the meal, Lawrence set his glass down. "Tomorrow, you’ll be attending a charity event with me. Wear something appropriate."
She nearly choked. "A public event? Already?"
"People need to see us together," he said simply. "It’s part of the deal."
She clenched her fork. "Do I get a say in anything?"
His lips twitched in amusement. "No."
Elena clenched her jaw. This is going to be hell.
Her appetite vanished. Pushing her plate aside, she stood up. "I’m done."
Just as she turned, a strong hand wrapped around her wrist.
A sharp breath hitched in her throat as Lawrence pulled her back slightly. The touch sent an unexpected jolt through her.
His voice was low, almost possessive. "You belong to me now, Elena. Get used to it."
Her heart pounded, but she yanked her wrist free and stormed out of the dining room.
Her mind screamed at her to be careful.
She had made a deal with the devil.
And there was no turning back.
---
The city skyline stretched before her, glittering under the night sky. Yet, all she could see was her own reflection in the glass—lost, trapped, a pawn in a game she never wanted to play.
But she refused to cry.
She changed into her pajamas and crawled under the thick silk covers, but sleep didn’t come easily. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Lawrence’s smirk, his piercing gaze, the way he had casually signed her life away like it meant nothing.
Sometime in the early morning, exhaustion won.
The next thing she knew, sunlight was streaming through the windows.
A sharp knock on the door made her groan.
"Wake up," Lawrence’s deep voice came from the other side. "We leave in two hours."
She grabbed a pillow and hurled it at the door. "Ever heard of a good morning?"
Silence.
Then, with a hint of amusement, he responded, "Good morning. Now get up."
She rolled her eyes and dragged herself out of bed.
The moment she opened her door, she nearly crashed into him.
Lawrence stood there in a crisp suit, looking effortlessly powerful. "Breakfast is ready."
She crossed her arms. "Are you always this bossy?"
He smirked. "Get used to it, Mrs. Kingston."
Her stomach twisted.
She wasn’t ready for this.
Elena swallowed hard, trying to push down the uneasy feeling in her chest. The way Lawrence said Mrs. Kingston sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. It wasn’t endearing. It was a reminder—one she couldn’t escape.
“I’m not your real wife,” she muttered under her breath.
Lawrence caught her wrist again, his grip firm, You’re my wife on paper. And in the eyes of the world, that’s all that matters.”
Elena yanked her hand away. “That’s the problem with you, Lawrence. Everything is just an arrangement, a business deal.”
He tilted his head slightly, as if considering her words. Then, without another glance, he strode toward the dining table.
Elena exhaled sharply before following him. Breakfast was already laid out—freshly baked croissants, eggs, fruit, and coffee. It looked perfect. But nothing about this felt perfect.
As she took her seat, a thought settled deep within her.
- Writer
