The Woman He Bought

Chapter 16: The Calm Before the Storm

Ethan Coast’s POV

It has been one month since Elara and Lucien’s wedding.

One month—and the city still refuses to move on.

Every television channel, every business magazine, every social event I attend carries the same conversation. The Blackwood wedding. The woman who captured Lucien Blackwood’s heart. The love story that supposedly transformed one of the coldest men in the corporate world into a devoted husband.

A fairytale.

That’s what they call it.

I stare at the television screen in silence as another segment plays, showing clips from their wedding reception. Elara laughing. Lucien looking at her like she’s the only person in the room. Reporters praising their “unexpected romance” and “powerful union.”

The remote tightens in my grip until my knuckles turn white.

They look happy.

Too happy.

The media calls them perfect. Untouchable. A symbol of love overcoming hardship. They talk as if the past never existed—as if everything that happened before simply disappeared.

But I remember.

And the more I watch her smile, the more something dark twists inside my chest.

Lisa can’t stand it either.

My wife’s irritation has become constant, simmering just beneath the surface. Ever since Marcus died, this house has felt colder, heavier. His absence lingers in every hallway, every empty chair at the dining table. Losing him broke something in her that I don’t think can ever be repaired.

But grief isn’t the only thing eating her alive.

It’s jealousy.

Every time Elara’s name appears on the screen, Lisa’s expression hardens. Her lips thin, her eyes filled with bitterness she doesn’t bother hiding anymore.

“That girl should have stayed where she belonged,” she mutters one evening, watching yet another interview replay. “Instead, she’s living the life that should have been ours.”

I don’t respond immediately.

Because the truth is, I feel it too.

After everything we did—after all the careful planning—Elara was supposed to disappear quietly into Lucien’s life. A transaction. A solution to a financial problem. Nothing more.

I never imagined Lucien would change.

Lucien Blackwood was known for being ruthless, distant, impossible to reach emotionally. That was why the arrangement made sense. He would take her, keep her out of our way, and eventually lose interest.

But instead, he fell for her.

And now she stands beside him, protected by his name, his wealth, his influence.

Untouchable.

The realization burns.

Because as long as she exists, she remains a risk. A reminder. A loose end.

And loose ends destroy everything.

Lisa was the one who finally said it aloud.

“Elara has to go.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavy but inevitable.

I didn’t argue.

Because deep down, I already knew.

Thankfully, Lisa came up with a very… interesting plan.

One that doesn’t require noise or attention.

One that looks like an accident.

And the more I think about it, the more satisfied I feel.

They think their story has reached its happy ending.

They have no idea it’s only the beginning of something much darker.

And I can’t wait to watch it unfold.

Lucien’s POV

Waking up beside my wife is still something I haven’t gotten used to.

Not because it feels strange.

Because it feels too good to be real.

I always wake up first. Always. It became a habit during the first months of our marriage, when sleep came easier to her than it did to me. Now, even when I don’t have to, I find myself opening my eyes early just to watch her.

Elara sleeps peacefully, curled slightly toward me, her hair spread across the pillow like dark silk. Her breathing is slow and steady, her expression soft in a way she never allowed herself to be before.

Sometimes, I lie there for nearly an hour, doing nothing.

Just watching.

Memorizing.

Because for years, peace felt temporary. Something that could vanish without warning. Losing my parents taught me that happiness could disappear overnight, leaving nothing behind but silence.

But with her, mornings feel different.

Safe.

Today is no exception.

We’re scheduled to fly back home after spending a full month in the Maldives. A honeymoon that felt less like a vacation and more like stepping outside the world entirely. No business calls. No expectations. Just the two of us.

For the first time in years, I allowed myself to relax completely.

I’m lost in thought when suddenly—

Something tickles my stomach.

I jerk slightly in surprise.

Elara bursts into laughter, already awake, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Good morning,” she says brightly.

Before I can respond, she leans down and presses a quick kiss to my lips, then slips out of bed and disappears into the bathroom.

I exhale slowly, smiling to myself.

She does this often now—small, spontaneous gestures that still catch me off guard. The woman who once avoided even accidental contact now seeks it naturally, comfortably.

It still amazes me how much she’s changed.

Or maybe… how much she finally allowed herself to be.

By the time we finish breakfast and head to the airport, she’s already talking excitedly about home. About cooking again. About sleeping in our own bed. About normal things that somehow feel important now.

She falls asleep halfway through the flight, her head resting against my shoulder.

I don’t wake her when we land.

Instead, I carry her inside the mansion when we arrive, careful not to disturb her. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, her arms instinctively tightening around my neck.

I lay her gently on the bed, brushing a strand of hair away from her face before stepping out.

My phone rings almost immediately.

Paul.

I already know this won’t be a pleasant conversation.

I answer as I walk into the living room.

“Welcome back, sir,” Paul says. “I hope the trip went well.”

“It did,” I reply. “What is it?”

There’s a brief pause.

“Concerning the Coast family,” he continues carefully, “when should we file the evidence with the police? Time is running out. They’ve lost their only child, and their niece—whom they despised—is now happily married. That combination makes people unpredictable.”

A cold chill runs down my spine.

Exactly what I’ve been thinking.

“I understand,” I say slowly, “but we need to wait a little longer.”

“Sir, with all due respect—”

“I don’t know how Elara will handle it,” I interrupt quietly. “Finding out that her uncle staged her parents’ death… and mine.”

The words feel heavy even saying them aloud.

“She’s finally happy, Paul. She’s healing. If she learns the truth now, it will destroy her. She’ll blame herself. She’ll fall back into that darkness again.”

I close my eyes briefly, remembering the woman she used to be—quiet, guarded, constantly bracing for pain.

I won’t let her return there.

“I’ve already hired two bodyguards,” I add. “They’ll stay in the shadows. She mustn’t know. I can’t lie to her face.”

Paul sighs on the other end. “And how long do we wait, sir?”

“As long as necessary,” I reply firmly.

We exchange a few more updates before ending the call.

The silence that follows feels heavier than before.

Danger is coming.

I can feel it.

And the worst part is knowing that the person I want to protect most has no idea it exists.

Footsteps pull me from my thoughts.

Elara walks into the living room, freshly changed, her hair slightly messy from sleep, a wide grin already on her face.

“Let’s make chocolate cookies,” she announces excitedly. “You promised we’d make them together when we got home. And I’m craving them badly.”

She pouts playfully, crossing her arms.

The tension in my chest loosens instantly.

This woman.

No matter how complicated the world becomes, she has a way of making everything feel simple again.

I smile despite myself and stand up.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her face lights up, and she grabs my hand, pulling me toward the kitchen.

Flour ends up everywhere within minutes. She laughs when I fail to follow instructions properly, accusing me of deliberately making a mess just to distract her. I deny it, of course, though she’s not entirely wrong.

For a while, nothing exists outside that kitchen.

Just laughter. Warmth. The smell of chocolate filling the air.

Normal life.

The life I promised her.

And as she leans against me, smiling proudly at the tray of cookies, I allow myself to believe—just for a moment—that maybe things will stay this way.

That maybe the storm won’t reach us.

But somewhere beyond these walls, plans are already moving.

People are already watching.

And while my wife laughs in my arms, unaware of the danger surrounding her…

The calm we’re standing in is only temporary.

Because storms don’t announce themselves.

They arrive quietly.

And when they do—

Everything changes.