Chapter 5
1085 Words
The first morning in the Knight mansion felt like waking up inside someone else’s dream.
Sunlight spilled across the ivory sheets, catching on the silk drapes and gilded frames, painting everything in gold. The bed was too large, the room too perfect, and the silence stretched so thick it made me restless.
Back in my apartment, mornings had always been noisy—the hum of traffic outside, Marcus snoring in the other room, my phone alarm buzzing insistently until I dragged myself up for work.
Now? Nothing. Just silence and the faint, faraway chirp of birds.
I almost hated it.
---
A knock came at the door just as I was tugging a robe around myself.
“Miss Carter?” A soft, female voice.
“Yes?”
The door opened, and a woman stepped inside. She was elegant, her hair pulled back in a perfect bun, her uniform crisp. A housekeeper, maybe.
“Breakfast is served in the dining hall,” she said with a polite smile. “Mr. Knight requests your presence.”
Requests. The word felt heavy, like there wasn’t really a choice.
I nodded, trying to sound casual. “Thank you.”
The woman inclined her head and slipped out, leaving me with my nerves.
---
The dining hall was ridiculous. The table could have seated twenty, maybe thirty, yet only two places were set—one at the head, one at his right.
Alexander was already there. Of course he was. Perfectly dressed in a charcoal suit, crisp white shirt, no tie. Even over breakfast, he looked like a man preparing to conquer an empire.
His eyes lifted as I entered, gray and sharp, tracking every step I took.
“Good morning, Elena.”
My name on his lips still did strange things to me.
“Morning,” I muttered, sliding into the chair beside him.
A server appeared, placing a plate in front of me. Eggs, fresh fruit, a croissant that smelled like heaven. My stomach grumbled loudly, betraying me.
I grabbed a fork. “This looks… amazing.”
“You’ll be eating differently now,” Alexander said, cutting into his own eggs with precision. “Healthier. Balanced meals. No processed food, no caffeine.”
I froze mid-bite. “Excuse me?”
He didn’t even look up. “You’re carrying my child. That means no junk food, no alcohol, no late nights. I’ll have a doctor monitoring you weekly.”
I set my fork down, bristling. “So what—you get to dictate every part of my life now?”
His gaze lifted, locking onto mine. “Yes.”
The word was quiet, absolute.
My blood boiled. “I may be carrying your child, but I’m still me. You don’t get to control what I eat, when I sleep, how I live—”
“I do,” he interrupted, his voice sharp as glass. “Because your choices affect more than just you now. They affect my child.”
The words hit like a slap. My throat tightened. He said it so easily. My child. Not ours. Not mine. His.
I shoved my chair back, my appetite gone. “You don’t own me, Alexander.”
His eyes darkened. For a heartbeat, I thought he’d lash out, but instead he leaned back, studying me.
“You’re right,” he said quietly. “I don’t.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
I stood, ready to storm off, but his next words stopped me cold.
“Sit down, Elena.”
There was something in his tone—not anger, not command, but something low, rough, almost pleading. Against my better judgment, I sank back into the chair.
His gaze softened, just a fraction. “I know you feel trapped. But this isn’t about control. It’s about protection. You’ve been thrown into my world, and my world isn’t forgiving. If you don’t listen to me, you could get hurt.”
I frowned. “Hurt? By who?”
He didn’t answer.
---
The rest of breakfast passed in tense silence.
When I returned to my room later, a doctor was waiting—an older woman with kind eyes who introduced herself as Dr. Lawson. She checked my vitals, asked about my nausea, my fatigue. I went through the motions, but the whole time, I felt Alexander’s presence like a shadow. He didn’t sit in on the exam, but I knew he was close, listening. Watching.
After she left, I paced my room like a caged animal. I hated this. Hated feeling powerless, like my life wasn’t mine anymore.
But worse, I hated that part of me didn’t want to leave.
---
That night, I couldn’t sleep again.
I slipped out onto the balcony, the cool breeze brushing my skin. The city glittered below, distant and unreachable. My heart still ached from Marcus’s betrayal, but it was a dull ache now, fading beneath something new.
Something dangerous.
“Elena.”
I jumped, spinning to find Alexander leaning against the balcony railing. I hadn’t even heard him come in. His tie was gone, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, the sharp edges of his perfection softened by the shadows.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people,” I muttered, trying to calm my racing heart.
“I wasn’t sneaking,” he said, his voice low. “I was watching.”
My breath caught. “That’s worse.”
His lips curved, the faintest hint of a smile. “You looked… lost.”
I looked away, gripping the railing. “Maybe I am.”
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The night hummed around us, thick with unspoken tension.
Finally, he moved closer, his presence overwhelming. “You’re stronger than you think, Elena.”
I forced a laugh. “Is that supposed to be comforting?”
“It’s supposed to be true.”
His hand brushed mine on the railing, just the barest touch. My pulse jumped, heat flooding through me. I should have pulled away, but I didn’t.
For the first time, I saw him not as the billionaire, not as the man who owned this mansion, but as a man who carried something heavy, something lonely.
And I hated how much I wanted to understand him.
“Goodnight, Elena,” he said softly, pulling back before I could respond.
When he left, the air felt colder.
I pressed my hand to my chest, my heart still racing.
This was dangerous.
Very dangerous.
And yet, I knew I was already in too deep.
- Writer
