His Last name, My Secret

Unspoken Boundaries

Chapter 2

The ride to Hunter house was silent, painfully silent.

Zia sat stiffly in her seat, clutching the fabric of her wedding dress as if it could somehow shield her from the storm raging beside her. Hunter stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched, one hand gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

She wanted to say something. Anything.

But the words tangled in her throat, choked by fear and uncertainty.

When they finally pulled into a gated property, a cold, imposing mansion hidden behind towering hedges. Zia’s heart sank further. It wasn’t a home; it was a fortress. A prison for her.

Hunter got out without sparing her a glance.

She hurried after him, struggling with her dress as she stumbled up the stone steps.

The huge iron doors swung open, revealing a middle-aged woman in a black uniform. She gave Zia a polite but indifferent nod before turning to Hunter.

"Welcome back, sir."

Hunter simply grunted in response.

Without waiting, he stalked inside, leaving Zia frozen at the threshold. She swallowed hard and followed him, the heavy doors creaking shut behind her like the closing of a cage.

The interior was just as cold as the man who owned it.Gray marble floors. High ceilings. Sparse furniture. Everything looked expensive, but lifeless. There were no signs of warmth, no laughter, no memories.

Only silence...

"This way," Hunter said curtly, striding ahead without once glancing back.

Zia followed like a ghost, her steps silent, her heart heavier with every beat. They reached a grand staircase, its bannisters gleaming under the chandelier’s dim light. Halfway up, Hunter paused, turning just enough to address her.

"You'll stay in the guest room down the hall," he said and his voice sharp as broken glass. "We won’t be sharing a room, so there’s no need for you to follow me upstairs."

The words, blunt and careless, struck harder than they should have.

Zia nodded weakly, the lump in her throat growing with every reluctant step. She lingered at the foot of the stairs, glancing left and right, unsure of which way to go.

Without a word, Hunter motioned toward the far end of the hallway and walked ahead, his strides cold and impatient. He opened a door and stood aside.

Zia stepped inside.

The room was beautiful, almost too perfect. A queen-sized bed dominated the space, its headboard carved with intricate patterns. Silk curtains framed tall windows, and a grand chandelier loomed overhead, scattering soft golden light across the polished floor. It should have felt luxurious. Instead, it felt hollow. Impersonal. Like a hotel room meant for passing strangers, not a home.

"This is your space. Don't bother me unless it's absolutely necessary," Hunter said, his voice even colder now, if that was possible. "And don't ever go upstairs to my room. Do you understand?"

Zia turned toward him, desperate to find a trace of warmth, a hint of humanity.

There was none.

She forced a tight nod and a faint smile she didn’t feel.

"Good luck," he muttered before turning his back on her and walking away.

The door clicked shut with a finality that echoed in the silence he left behind.

Zia stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door, her heart pounding against her ribs, fragile and bruised.

Slowly, she pressed her hand to her chest, trying to hold herself together as the walls seemed to inch closer.

With trembling fingers, she unfastened her wedding dress, now wrinkled and heavy with sorrowband replaced it with one of the nightgowns she found neatly folded in the cabinet. The silky fabric clung to her skin, cool and unfamiliar.

She perched on the edge of the bed, the silence so loud it roared in her ears.

And then the tears came.

Hot, silent rivers streamed down her cheeks, washing away the last scraps of pride she had clung to all day. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking, the weight of everything finally crashing down.

This wasn’t how she had imagined her wedding night.

Not trapped in a stranger’s house.

Not abandoned by the people who were supposed to love her.

Not married to a man who looked at her like she was nothing but a burden.

Zia wrapped her arms around herself, curling into a small, broken ball in the center of the vast, empty bed. In the darkness, she whispered into the cold, uncaring night:

"Please... please let me survive this."

And somewhere deep inside her buried beneath the fear, the heartbreak, the loneliness — a tiny, stubborn voice answered:

"One day, Zia... you’ll find your way out."

She lay down, exhaustion pulling at her bones, her body sore from the weight of the day's endless humiliations. She knew that after tonight, she could expect no help from anyone, not from her family, not from anyone. She would have to survive on her own, work hard, and keep her head down.

She didn’t know Hunter, only his name and the chill he carried around him like a second skin. She was too afraid to speak, too afraid that even a single question would be met with anger.

Still, she was grateful, in a small, aching way, that they would be sleeping in separate rooms tonight. She wasn’t ready to face the possibility of anything else. Just the thought of it made her shudder.

The room was cold, and she cocooned herself tightly in the thick comforter, letting the soft fabric shield her from the sharpness of the world outside.

Tears kept falling until, finally, sleep claimed her.

She woke up hours later, the heat pressing uncomfortably against her skin. Groggy and disoriented, she realized she had forgotten to turn off the overhead light. She got up and switched it off, leaving only the warm glow of the bedside lamp to light the room.

Odd — earlier she had been freezing, now the room felt stifling.

Frowning, she found the air conditioner remote and turned it on. Cool air soon began circulating, offering some relief.

Then she felt her stomach grumbled loud and hollow, a painful reminder she hadn’t eaten a thing since morning.

She hesitated at the door, hand hovering over the knob. Should she stay and endure the hunger, or risk stepping out?

Gathering her courage, she quietly slipped into the hallway. The house was cloaked in darkness, save for the faint light spilling from the kitchen.

Hunter’s room was upstairs and she was sure of it. He wouldn’t be coming down at this hour.

Zia padded toward the kitchen, her bare feet silent against the cold floor, while her heart thudding nervously as she stepped into the soft pool of light and began searching for something to eat.

Just as Zia opened the fridge and bent down to grab something, she heard a loud crash from somewhere upstairs.She jerked upright, heart hammering against her ribs.

The sound of a door slamming echoed through the hallways, and for a second she thought she saw a shadow move at the edge of the kitchen.

"H-Hunter?" she called out hesitantly.

No answer.

Goosebumps rose on her skin. Maybe this house or the people in it held more secrets than she realized.

She quietly closed the fridge, suddenly unsure if she should be wandering around at all. Her eyes darted anxiously around the kitchen and her heart pounding after hearing that noise from upstairs.Panic rising, she abandoned her search for food and hurried back toward her room.

But in her rush, she slammed into a hard, unyielding body.

"Ouch!" she gasped, stumbling backward.

Before she could fall, strong hands shot out and grabbed her. One gripping her arm, the other steadying her by the waist.

For a heartbeat, they froze. Zia staring up wide-eyed, her breath caught in her throat. The faint light illuminated the sharp lines of Hunter’s face, his expression unreadable.

"You should watch where you're going," he said, his voice low and rough, his hands lingering a moment longer before he let her go.

Embarrassed, Zia stepped back quickly, clutching the strap of her nightgown that had nearly slipped off her shoulder.

"I-I'm sorry," she whispered, her cheeks burning and surely Hunter saw it.

Hunter said nothing, just gave her a hard look before stepping past her and disappearing into the shadows of the hallway, leaving Zia’s heart pounding for an entirely new reason

"What is he doing down here?" Zia wondered to herself, watching Hunter’s retreating figure.