CAGED IN A BILLIONAIRE'S GAME

Elena Roselle-Thorne POV The music playing below is not enough to drown the sound of my broken heart. I must say the chapel was a masterpiece of power, gold pews, a diamond altar, and eyes glinting with hunger more than celebration. The kind of place where deals are sealed in blood and rings, not love. My wedding dress was custom-made silk from Paris. My shoes could buy someone’s freedom. But none of it mattered. Not when my wrists felt shackled by invisible chains. Not when I was marrying a stranger with eyes that didn’t warm when he looked at me. Adrian Thorne stood at the altar like someone sculpted from war and winter. Six-foot-something of tailored ruthlessness, carved jaw clenched, steel-blue eyes fixed on me as if he were preparing to endure a battle, not a bride. And I, Elena Roselle was the weapon in this war, or the casualty. I wasn’t sure yet. Every step down the aisle was a silent scream. My father, no, Viktor Roselle, gripped my arm like property being presented. I had no illusions. This wasn’t love. This wasn’t destiny. This was a debt being paid in flesh and silk. His voice whispered into my ear, just as we reached the front. “Smile. Or I’ll give you a reason not to.” I did. A soft, trembling smile that made my insides curl in shame. My fingers were numb, my heart was silent, and I felt like I have been stripped of everything good in my life. Adrian didn’t reach out for me, Didn’t speak. He simply nodded to the priest, as if to say,"Let’s get this over with", and just like that, I was no longer Elena Roselle. I was Elena Thorne. The applause was loud as hell, but all I heard was silence. We stood before a crowd of devils in designer suits. Viktor sat in the front row with that crocodile grin, his hand resting on the shoulder of his latest mistress. Beside him, Vivienne Black, Adrian’s former fiancee, watched me like she was calculating how long I would last before I shattered. And maybe I already have. I felt Adrian’s arm slip around mine as he guided me toward the waiting car outside the chapel. His touch was firm, cold. There was no affection. Just control like he had accepted a burden, not a bride. "You could at least pretend to look happy,” I said, and forced myself to speak. “Why? "You are not,” he said as his lips twitched with a faint smirk that never reached his eyes. I turned my head sharply, blinking away the sting in my eyes. I didn’t cry. Not for Viktor, not for this man, not even for myself. I whispered. “You don’t know me,” “No,” he agreed. “And I don’t need to, You are just another piece in a larger game, Elena. "Don’t mistake this ring for power.” My spine stiffened. I had been traded like a chess piece. But one day, I will learn how to move on my own. The ride to the church was suffocating as silence stretched between us like a wound that doesn't heal. I wished I could disappear as I watched the world blur past the tinted windows. Escape, run, be someone else, those thoughts kept ringing in my head. But there was no escape, not now, not ever. My marriage was inked in contracts I hadn’t been allowed to read, sealed by a father who never saw me as anything but leverage. I was born into chains and today, they just got heavier. At his estate gate, I was ushered into a ballroom that sparkled with chandeliers and secrets. Waiters circled with champagne, guests danced like this was a celebration of love, not power. I stood beside Adrian, playing the dutiful bride. My smile was glass. My eyes were empty. Then I saw Vivienne again, standing in a tight red dress, holding a flute of champagne like a dagger. Her smirk widened as she approached.“Well,” she said smoothly. “Does it feel real yet?” I blinked. “Does what?” “Being a Thorne, wearing his name, sleeping in his bed. Oh, wait…” She laughed lightly. “Maybe not that last one.” Adrian’s hand subtly tightened on my waist. Vivienne leaned closer. “You’re just a pawn, darling. Pretty, yes. But fragile. "I will give you three months before you break.” Then she turned and walked away, her hips swaying with poisonous confidence. I didn’t respond, but something inside me, something long buried, rose from the ashes. I would not break. Not for Vivienne, not for Adrian, not even for the man who sold me. I immediately excused myself to the restroom and stared at myself in the mirror. My reflection looked perfect, but she wasn’t me. She was hollow, silent, dressed in chains made of silk and secrets. I touched the cold edge of the sink and whispered to the girl in the mirror. “You can survive this, just like you’ve survived everything else.” I felt a tear running down my cheek. I immediately wiped it away before it could fall. And when I stepped out of that room, my spine was straighter, my mask flawless. The gold on my wedding band still gleamed like it belonged to someone else. I stared at it as I sat in the backseat of the armored Maybach, the polished ring a perfect circle around my trembling finger. It was too tight, too permanent, too much like a shackle disguised in opulence. My husband, Adrian Thorne sat beside me, silent, composed, dressed in a steel-grey suit that matched the storm in his eyes. His attention wasn’t on me. It hadn’t been since the moment the vows were exchanged, and I couldn’t blame him. I was just the currency in a deal he struck with a devil, and yet, even in his silence, he took up all the space. He hadn’t touched me since the brief press of lips in front of the crowd, a kiss that had tasted more like a warning than affection. But I could still feel his presence crawling across my skin. He was power incarnate and I was supposed to be his pretty little trophy. His eyes remained fixed on the city scape blurring past us. I wondered if he was already calculating my worth in profit and losses. I turned to look out the window too, watching the world I’d never been allowed to touch flash. Freedom was such a pretty word. I would read it in books, dream of it in silence, but I had never truly tasted it. Tonight would remind me just how far out of reach it was.