Becoming Mrs.Terry

Becoming Mrs.Terry

Chapter Three: The Mansion and the Mask

Tinah had never seen a house like it in real life.

The Terry estate stood just outside the city—secluded, silent, and stunning. Tall black gates opened slowly as the car pulled in, and the mansion beyond looked like it had been pulled out of a magazine. Every corner was clean, sharp, expensive.

Cold.

Much like the man now sitting silently beside her in the back seat.

Rowland hadn’t spoken since the contract was signed. Not even a “welcome.” Just a glance at his watch and a nod to his driver.

Now, as the car stopped, he finally said, “This is your home now. There’s a separate wing prepared for you. Privacy will be respected.”

Tinah nodded, her hands folded tightly on her lap. “Thank you.”

The front doors opened before they even reached the steps. A sharply dressed older woman with a clipboard and an unreadable smile greeted them.

“This is Mrs. Danvers,” Rowland said. “She manages the house. She’ll help you settle in.”

“I’ll also coach you on public appearances,” Mrs. Danvers added, her tone efficient but not unkind. “You’ll be expected at the charity gala next Friday. Your wardrobe will be taken care of.”

Tinah’s head swam. “Charity gala?”

Rowland turned to her, face unreadable. “We’re married now. Or at least… we will be by the time that event happens. You’re expected to act the part.”

Tinah’s chest tightened. She could handle paperwork, boardrooms, late nights—but this? This pretending?

Still, she managed a quiet, “Understood.”

⸻

Her room—if you could call it that—was bigger than her entire apartment. A soft king-sized bed, a velvet reading chair by a huge window, gold-accented mirrors, and a walk-in closet with silk hangers already waiting.

But no matter how beautiful the space, it didn’t feel like hers.

That night, she sat at the window, staring at the moon above the trees, wondering how a girl like her had ended up here—married, sort of, to a man who barely looked at her twice.

What would people say when they found out?

Would anyone believe it?

Would she?

⸻

Across the house, Rowland poured himself a drink and stood in his dimly lit study, staring at the flames in the fireplace.

He didn’t do feelings. He didn’t do risks.

But something about Tinah Perry’s eyes… the fire in them, the quiet pride in her voice—

It unsettled him.

And now…

They were bound.

By ink.

By secrets.

By a lie that might just unravel everything.