Chapter 2: House Rules
715 Words
Elena spun around, her heart leaping into her throat.
The double doors of the study burst open, and Marcus, Ethan’s head of security, stepped in with a pale expression. Behind him stood an elderly man leaning heavily on a silver-headed cane. His eyes, though aged, held the same piercing gray steel as Ethan's.
"Grandfather," Ethan said, his voice instantly dropping several degrees colder. He didn’t seem surprised, merely annoyed by the intrusion.
Jasper Blackburn, the patriarch of the Blackburn empire, stepped into the room, his gaze scanning Elena from head to toe. A slow, calculating smile spread across the old man's wrinkled face.
"So, the rumors are true," Jasper boomed, his voice surprisingly strong for his frail frame. "The ice king has finally chosen a queen. Or should I say... a hostage?"
Elena stepped back, feeling exposed under the old man's intense scrutiny. She looked at Ethan, hoping for some cue on how to act, but his face was an unreadable mask.
"Elena is my fiancée, Grandfather. As of five minutes ago, she is my future wife," Ethan said smoothly, stepping between Elena and the old man, effectively shielding her from his gaze. "Your terms demanded I marry and settle down before my twenty-ninth birthday to inherit the remaining shares of the company. I have complied."
Jasper chuckled, a dry, raspy sound. "You think you can fool me, boy? You found a girl in debt and bought her. I know how your mind works."
The old man stepped closer, peering around Ethan’s shoulder to look directly at Elena. "Listen to me, young lady. If this marriage is a sham to cheat me out of my terms, I will find out. And when I do, I will disinherit Ethan, and ensure whatever deal he made with you turns to ash."
Elena felt the air leave her lungs. If Jasper found out the truth, the debt would return, and her mother would be back in danger.
Before she could lose her nerve, she stepped out from behind Ethan. She forced her voice to remain steady, drawing on every ounce of acting strength she possessed.
"It’s not a sham, Mr. Blackburn," Elena said, looking the patriarch dead in the eye. "Ethan and I... our relationship might be fast, but it is real. I love him."
The lie tasted like ash on her tongue.
Ethan’s posture stiffened slightly beside her. For a fraction of a second, surprise flickered in his gray eyes before it was replaced by a smooth, dark satisfaction. He reached down, wrapping his large, warm hand around hers, intertwining their fingers. His grip was firm, almost possessive.
"You heard her, Grandfather," Ethan said, his voice dripping with false affection as he looked down at Elena. "Now, if you’ll excuse us, it has been a long day, and my bride needs her rest."
Jasper stared at their joined hands for a long moment before nodding slowly. "We shall see. The wedding is in three days. I expect a grand affair, Ethan. No secret courthouse vows. Let the world see your 'love'."
With a final, warning look, the old man turned and walked out, his cane clicking against the marble floors until the sound faded into the distance.
The moment the doors clicked shut, Ethan dropped Elena’s hand instantly. The warmth vanished, replaced by a sudden, freezing aura.
"That was a dangerous stunt," Ethan said, turning on her, his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "Lying to my grandfather could have ruined everything if you hesitated."
"I saved your contract!" Elena snapped back, her adrenaline finally boiling over. "If I hadn't said anything, he would have investigated us tonight!"
Ethan stepped into her personal space, his shadow engulfing her once more. "Let's get one thing straight, Elena. I do the saving here. You play the part of the doting, quiet wife. Nothing more. Do not speak out of turn again."
He pointed toward the grand staircase in the foyer. "Go to the master bedroom. Tomorrow morning, a team of stylists and publicists will arrive to transform you into someone fit to wear the Blackburn name. Don't be late."
Elena bit her lip so hard she tasted copper. Without another word, she turned and fled up the stairs, the heavy weight of her golden cage settling firmly onto her shoulders.
- Writer
