Chapter 3
1389 Words
As Elena waits for the driver, her phone rings.
It’s an unknown number.
“You think marrying him will save your brother? Be careful who you trust, Elena.”
The call disconnects.
Her blood turns to ice. She tries to call back, but the number is unreachable. Was it a threat? A warning? Is someone watching her?
The knock at the door startled Elena out of her thoughts. She was stunned all of a sudden. She had barely slept, her mind tangled in dread and disbelief. Her trembling fingers adjusted the edge of her shawl as the knocking grew louder, more insistent like time was up.
She opened the door slowly.
A tall, suited man stood outside with cold detachment written across his face.
“Miss Elena Dawson?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“I’ve been instructed to take you to Mr. Blackwood’s residence.”
There was no warmth in his tone, no kindness. Just protocol.
Elena cast one last glance at her tiny apartment: the peeling paint, the humming fridge, the only home she’d ever known. Her brother’s photograph stared back at her from the wall, smiling innocently. For Noah, she whispered silently and stepped outside.
The black car gleamed like a predator waiting to swallow her whole.
The driver opened the door and she climbed in. Her heart pounded violently as the city blurred by. The weight of what she was about to do crushed her chest.
Marry a man she barely knew.
Lie to the world.
Trade her freedom for her brother’s life.
The silence in the car was suffocating.
Her reflection in the window stared back with wide brown eyes that glistened like glass, thick lashes, and hair tied back in a nervous bun. She looked pale, exhausted, broken… and yet determined.
Elena notices the driver is wearing an earpiece, murmuring to someone occasionally.
She catches him looking at her through the rearview mirror too often. Too long.
“Everything’s under control,” he whispers softly. But not to her.
Elena grows uneasy. Is she being monitored? Is this about Noah? About Dominic?
An hour later, the car slowed before a private gate-guarded like a fortress. Security scanned them, and the gates groaned open. The path curved toward a towering building that glittered against the morning sky Blackwood Tower, his penthouse at the top like the crown of a king.
The elevator was silent as it ascended floor after floor, each number ticking upward like the beat of her racing heart.
Then it stopped.
Penthouse.
The doors slid open, and Elena stepped into a world that didn’t feel real.
The space was massively open, and airy, with floor-to-ceiling glass windows showcasing a panoramic view of the city skyline. The marble floors gleamed under the natural light. Modern art adorned the walls, and soft jazz hummed in the background. A winding staircase led to a mezzanine, and crystal chandeliers dripped like icicles from the high ceiling.
It was beautiful.
But it's cold.
Too perfect. Too sterile. Like no one actually lived here.
“Elena.”
His voice cut through the silence like a blade.
She turned and saw Dominic Blackwood, standing at the far end of the room, wearing black slacks and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The soft light framed his sharp jawline and stormy eyes. He looked effortlessly powerful. Dangerously handsome.
But his expression was unreadable.
“You’re here,” he said, voice calm.
She nodded, unsure what to say. The weight of everything made her knees feel weak.
He walked over slowly, every step deliberate.
“You should rest. The ceremony is in a few hours. Your room is upstairs.”
“Is this really happening?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
He looked at her for a long moment. “Yes.”
The truth in that one word made her stomach twist.
He motioned toward the staircase.
“Everything you need is there. Someone will help you get ready.”
But before Elena could move, the front door opened with a loud click.
A woman stepped in, and the temperature in the room dropped instantly.
Celeste Blackwood.
Dominic’s mother.
She was elegance wrapped in frost. Dressed in pearls and a high-neck black suit, her icy blue eyes locked onto Elena like a predator sizing up prey.
“This is a joke,” she said coolly. “Tell me this is some elaborate mistake.”
Dominic’s jaw flexed. “It’s not.”
“I gave you everything, Dominic,” she hissed, her voice razor-sharp. “And you repay me by marrying a girl no one’s ever heard of? A girl with no pedigree, no status.”
“She’s my wife,” he said with finality.
Elena felt herself shrink under Celeste’s stare, but she didn’t back away. Not this time.
Celeste turned to her.
“What’s your price?”
Elena blinked. “Excuse me?”
“How much is he paying you to wear the dress?”
Dominic stepped forward. “That’s enough.”
Celeste’s eyes narrowed. “You think this farce will hold up in the real world? You’re a
Blackwood. You don’t make impulsive decisions. You don’t marry for sympathy.”
“I didn’t ask for your approval,” Dominic said coldly. “And I’m not changing my mind.”
Celeste corners Elena privately:
“You’re nothing but a pawn in his plan. He’ll discard you when he's done. Don’t fall in love with the monster, darling. He doesn’t have a heart.”
Then she leans closer, smiling frostily.
“And if you try to play wife for too long... I’ll personally end this charade."
Elena stood like a statue carved from stone, listening in silence. Colours flickered across her face and traces of emotion but she said nothing. She just kept listening… each word sinking deeper into her heart like a blade.
With a stormy sigh, Celeste turned and swept out of the penthouse, her heels clicking like gunshots.
Elena stood frozen.
“Will she always hate me?” she whispered.
Dominic didn’t answer immediately. “She’ll either get used to it... or she won’t. It doesn’t change what we’re doing.”
Elena’s heart was pounding in her ears.
What they were doing.
A contract. A lie. A marriage no one knew was fake.
He looked at her again, softer this time.
“Go rest. You’ll need your strength.”
She nodded and followed the stairs to the guest suite. It was massive, more like a luxury hotel than a bedroom. Velvet curtains, a king-sized bed with silk linens, fresh flowers, and a vanity table covered in luxury makeup brands.
She stared at the gown laid out on the bed.
Ivory. Elegant. Breathtaking.
A woman came in quietly.
“Miss Dawson, I’m here to assist you.”
For the next hour, Elena was transformed. Her black hair cascaded down in soft waves, her lips painted a muted rose, and her eyes enhanced into glowing amber orbs.
She stepped into the gown, and it moulded to her like a second skin. It hugged her curves and flared softly at her hips, embroidered with fine crystal beads that shimmered like dew in sunlight.
She barely recognized herself.
Downstairs, Dominic was waiting.
He stood near the tall glass windows in a black tuxedo, his dark hair brushed back, his features as chiselled as if carved from marble. His eyes found her the moment she appeared.
For a second, something flickered in his gaze.
Not calculation.
Not coldness.
Something else.
Admiration?
There was something in his eyes, something she had never seen before.
The officiant stood ready, along with two silent witnesses one from each side, neither knowing the truth.
As the ceremony began, Elena’s heart thundered.
She repeated her vows like a woman in a dream.
Dominic’s hand was warm as he slid the ring onto her finger. His voice didn’t falter once, his words were perfectly delivered.
But when he said, “I do,” something in her chest cracked.
Because this wasn’t love.
It was a necessity.
It was survival.
And yet… as their lips met in the final act of the charade, something ignited between them.
As though the world held its breath, frozen in time.
A spark neither of them expected.
A secret buried behind beautiful lies.
- Writer
