Chapter 2: Marriage Without Touch
530 Words
The marriage changed nothing.
That was the first truth Elena Romano learned.
The estate remained the same—cold marble floors, guarded doors, servants who spoke only when spoken to. Luca remained the same too. He was polite in public, distant in private, and entirely unreachable behind his black suits and sharper silence.
They shared a name.
They did not share a bed.
Elena had expected anger, maybe resentment. What she had not expected was neglect so complete it felt intentional. Luca never entered her rooms. Never knocked. Never lingered.
At first, she thought it was restraint.
Then she heard the whispers.
The women were different from the ones before the marriage.
They did not arrive secretly. They walked openly through the halls, escorted by guards who avoided Elena’s eyes. Sometimes they laughed too loudly. Sometimes they wore confidence like armor. Always, they stayed in rooms that were not Elena’s.
Luca did not hide it.
That was the cruelty of it.
At dinners, he sat across from his wife, discussing business and alliances as though nothing else existed. Then, later, the house would shift—doors closing, footsteps moving, murmurs behind walls.
Elena lay awake, staring at the ceiling, understanding the message perfectly.
This marriage was a contract.
She was a symbol.
Nothing more.
Luca’s reasons were simple, though no one dared ask him aloud.
Intimacy created expectation. Expectation created emotion. Emotion led to attachment.
And attachment was dangerous.
With other women, there were no consequences. No permanence. No power imbalance that could be used against him. They were temporary, disposable, easily removed from the equation.
His wife was not.
So Luca kept his distance from her body while waging quiet war against her presence.
Elena noticed everything.
The way servants flinched when she passed.
The way guards grew tense when Luca’s footsteps echoed late at night.
The way respect was given—but never warmth.
She realized then that this was not accidental neglect.
It was strategy.
Luca Romano was punishing her for existing in a space he had never intended to share.
One evening, Elena stopped him in the hall.
“Do you enjoy humiliating me?” she asked calmly.
Luca turned, expression unreadable. “I’ve given you protection. Status. Power.”
“You’ve given me silence and insult,” she replied.
He studied her for a long moment. “This is the arrangement.”
“No,” Elena said quietly. “This is your fear.”
Something flickered in his eyes—gone before it could be named.
“You wanted a wife,” she continued. “But you refuse to acknowledge one.”
Luca stepped closer, voice low. “Be careful.”
She met his gaze, unafraid. “Or what? You’ll ignore me harder?”
For the first time since the wedding, the air between them cracked.
Luca said nothing.
He walked away.
That night, Elena made a decision.
If Luca Romano thought he could erase her within his own house, he had underestimated her.
She would not beg for affection. She would not demand attention.
She would learn his empire. Understand his weaknesses. And take the power he refused to share.
This marriage was loveless.
- Writer
