A Billion Stars Are Not Worth You

Chapter 3: The Gilded Cage

The Thorne Penthouse was not a home; it was a monument to minimalism and wealth. Located on the 89th floor of the city’s most exclusive skyscraper, it offered a panoramic view of the skyline that usually cost millions. To Elara, however, it felt like a gold-plated cage.

Everything was white, chrome, or glass. There were no family photos, no cozy throws on the sofas, no signs of life. It was as cold and impersonal as the man she had just married.

"Your room is down the hall, second door on the left," Julian said, loosening his tie as he walked toward the open-plan kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water, his back to her. "We share the living space, but I expect you to respect my privacy. I work late, and I sleep lightly."

Elara stood awkwardly in the foyer, her canvas bag looking ridiculously out of place against the Italian marble floor. "And the rules?" she asked softly.

Julian turned, his expression unreadable. "There are no rules, Elara, only expectations. Do not embarrass me. Do not bring attention to this arrangement. And do not fall in love with me."

The last part was said with such arrogant certainty that Elara felt a spark of defiance cut through her fear. "You have nothing to worry about, Mr. Thorne. My heart is not for sale. Only my name."

Julian’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before his mask of indifference returned. "Good. We understand each other."

He downed the water in one go and walked past her, heading toward his study. "My assistant will send over a credit card and a schedule tomorrow. You have a fitting for the gala on Friday. Don't be late."

Elara watched him disappear behind the heavy oak doors of his study. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She was safe here, she told herself. Her sister was safe. But as she walked down the long, sterile hallway to her room, the silence of the apartment pressed in on her.

She opened the door to her room. It was beautiful, she had to admit. A king-sized bed with crisp white linens, a balcony overlooking the city lights, and an ensuite bathroom that was larger than her entire apartment.

She walked to the window and looked down at the city. The cars were mere specks of light, the people invisible. Up here, the world seemed quiet and controllable. But Elara knew better. Storms always started from the calmest skies.

She touched the cold glass. She had sold her freedom for a year. One year of playing the doting wife to a man who viewed her as a necessary inconvenience.

"Just one year," she whispered to her reflection in the window. "You can survive anything for one year."

But as she turned to unpack her meager belongings, a single thought plagued her: What happens when the contract ends? Julian Thorne was the kind of man who didn't like to let go of his property. And she had a feeling that once she entered his world, he wouldn't be content with just owning her name. He would want everything else, too.