chapter 3
929 Words
Alex POV;
I didn’t sit. I stood like a statue, arms stiff at my sides, as Damian Blackwood stared at me from behind his desk.
He looked like he belonged in a painting—dark suit tailored like armor, hair slicked back with precision, jaw cut from granite. A man built for power and war, not marriage.
“You’ll live here from now on,” he said flatly. “You’ll play your role. In public, we are a couple. Behind closed doors, silence is preferred.”
I blinked. “Preferred?”, I just didn't flinch” meaning??“
His eyes narrowed just slightly. “Expected.”
I scoffed. “You kidnapped me, forged my signature on whatever contract this is, and now you want me to play wife and stay silent?”
“You weren’t kidnapped. You were sold. There's a difference.” He slid a thick folder across the desk. “And the contract is binding. You signed it two weeks ago. Or at least, your handwriting did.”
I snatched the folder with shaking fingers. My name was there. The signature matched mine exactly.
But I didn’t sign this. I didn’t even see this. I wasn't even give that.
“This is fraud.”
He didn’t blink. “It’s legal.”
“I’m not doing this,” I whispered, my whole body shaky.
He stood slowly, and for a moment, I thought he might yell. Or worse. But he didn’t raise his voice.
Instead, he walked around the desk and stopped inches away from me.
“You’re already in it, Alexandra. You just don’t know the stakes yet.”
His scent was expensive—clean leather and cold metal. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to run. But my feet wouldn’t move.
“From now on,” he continued, “you’ll attend public events with me, you’ll smile when needed, and you’ll never ask questions until I give you the chance to do so.”
I tilted my chin. “What if I do?”
He smiled for the first time.
It wasn’t comforting. It sent warnings and chills down my spine
“Then you’ll learn,” he said quietly, “that not all prisons have bars. Some wear diamonds and others bronze”
“Meaning,” he took two more steps, but this time I could feel his breathe on me.
“You'd understand the day you dare to disobey my words.“
I was meant to be scared at this point, but my body—responding otherwise.
“ Damian…”
“Atleast call that name with a pinch of respect.“ The words sounded like a command.
“What if I don't,”
He looked into my eyes, then added a smile.
“Just leave!“
“But I wasn't done.“
“Now!“
____
The mansion was massive, yet felt smaller than my old room at home. Every corner had eyes. The staff never made contact with me unless spoken to, and even then, their answers were clipped and looked forced.
Everything about the place was cold—like him.
Breakfast was served in a dining hall where I ate alone.
Lunch was the same.
I tried to explore, but every door I pushed was locked. Every hallway seemed to lead back to the same center.
Damian had built a castle, but I was the ghost trapped inside.
I tried to confront him once, in the hallway outside his office.
“Why do this?” I asked. “You have power. Money. You could get any woman. Why this?”
He didn’t stop walking.
“Because you’re already bought,” he said over his shoulder.
---
By evening, I had memorized every creak of the wooden floor in my room. I sat on the window seat, knees drawn up, staring at the moon. The city lights twinkled far below like stars that had fallen to the earth.
The silence gnawed at me.
Then I saw it—behind the armoire, a faint line in the wall.
A door.
Hidden.
Curiosity beat fear.
I pushed the armoire aside and opened the narrow corridor, stepping into darkness. The passage was narrow, almost suffocating, lit only by a dim glow from somewhere up ahead.
I followed the light.
It led to an opening—small, square, like a vent—but it overlooked an office.
His office.
There were monitors on the wall. Live footage.
One was my room.
I pressed a hand over my mouth.
He’d been watching me. Every moment.
My skin crawled.
Then I saw the drawer beneath the main desk—half open. I slid inside and tugged it quietly.
Photos.
Burned at the edges.
Black ink crossing out faces.
All women.
Some smiled in the pictures. Others looked scared.
One wore the same necklace I saw in my bathroom drawer earlier that day.
She wasn’t here anymore.
None of them were.
I swallowed a sob and shoved the drawer closed.
As I turned to leave the secret corridor, my hand trembling on the wall—
A whisper sliced through the darkness.
“You need to get out of here before he kills you too.”
I froze.
There, standing just inside my room—where the passage had spat me back out—was a figure dressed in black, face covered by a smooth mask.
They took a step forward.
And I couldn’t breathe.
I felt stuck there.
Fear gripping me.
“Run,” the masked stranger said, “before he makes you disappear like the others.”
- Writer
