Chapter 2: The First Night
1012 Words
The car ride was silent.
Not the comfortable kind.
The suffocating kind.
I sat stiffly in the backseat, my hands clenched together in my lap, while Dominic sat beside me like he owned the air I was breathing. Which… technically, he now did.
I stole a glance at him.
Bad idea.
He was already looking at me.
Not casually.
Not politely.
Intensely.
Like he was studying me. Memorizing me.
I looked away quickly, my pulse quickening. “Do you always stare at people like that?”
“Yes.”
I frowned. “That’s… unsettling.”
“That’s the point.”
Of course it was.
Silence fell again, thicker this time.
I turned my attention to the window, watching the city lights blur past, trying to ground myself. Everything was happening too fast. A few hours ago, I was just trying to figure out how to save my mother. Now… I was married to a man I barely knew.
A powerful, dangerous man.
“You’re thinking too much.”
His voice cut through my thoughts.
“I have every right to,” I muttered.
“Thinking won’t change anything.”
I turned to face him, frustration rising. “Maybe not, but it helps me process the fact that I just married a stranger.”
“You didn’t marry a stranger,” he said calmly. “You married me.”
That somehow made it worse.
Before I could respond, the car slowed to a stop.
I looked up—and my breath caught.
The mansion in front of us was massive. Elegant. Intimidating. Lights glowed from every window, casting a golden shine over perfectly trimmed gardens and a long, sweeping driveway.
“This is your house?”
“Our house,” he corrected.
My stomach tightened.
The driver opened the door, and Dominic stepped out first. He didn’t offer me his hand. He didn’t need to. His presence alone pulled me forward.
I stepped out, my heels clicking softly against the pavement, suddenly very aware of how small I felt in this world.
“This way,” he said.
No hesitation. No softness.
Just control.
Inside, it was even worse.
High ceilings. Marble floors. Chandeliers that looked like they cost more than my entire life.
“This is insane,” I whispered.
“You’ll get used to it.”
I doubted that.
A woman in a uniform approached us quickly, bowing her head slightly. “Welcome back, sir.” Her eyes shifted to me, curious but respectful.
“This is Mrs. Voss,” Dominic said without hesitation.
The title hit me like a shockwave.
Mrs. Voss.
That was me now.
“Prepare her room,” he added.
Room?
I blinked. “Room?”
His gaze slid to mine, unreadable. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Weren’t we supposed to share a room?
The thought sent an unexpected wave of heat through me, followed quickly by confusion.
“I thought—” I stopped myself.
What did I think?
That this man would actually play the role of a husband?
That he would want me like that?
His lips curved slightly, as if he could read my thoughts.
“Disappointed?”
My cheeks burned. “No.”
“Good.”
Something about that answer felt like a challenge.
We walked further into the house, deeper into a space that didn’t feel like mine at all.
“This is your room,” he said finally, pushing open a door.
I stepped inside—and froze.
It was beautiful.
Soft lighting, a large bed, elegant furniture, everything perfectly arranged.
It looked like something out of a dream.
Or a cage.
“I’ll have clothes brought in for you,” he continued. “You’ll need to maintain a certain image.”
Of course I would.
“Dominic,” I said, turning to face him.
He stopped just inside the doorway.
“What exactly do you expect from me?”
His gaze darkened slightly.
“To be my wife.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
He took a step closer.
Then another.
Until he was standing right in front of me again.
Too close.
Always too close.
“You represent me,” he said quietly. “You attend events with me. You stand beside me. You don’t embarrass me.”
“And in private?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Something shifted in his expression.
The air changed.
“In private…” he repeated slowly.
My breath caught as his hand lifted, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. The touch was light, almost gentle—but it sent a sharp shiver down my spine.
“You learn,” he said softly, “what it means to belong to me.”
My heart slammed hard against my chest.
“That wasn’t part of the deal,” I whispered.
His thumb lingered just beneath my jaw.
“Everything about this deal belongs to me.”
My breath hitched.
This wasn’t control anymore.
This was something else.
Something deeper.
More dangerous.
I stepped back, breaking the contact, my mind spinning. “I’m not one of your possessions.”
“No,” he agreed calmly.
Relief flickered—
Then died.
“You’re my wife.”
That sounded worse.
Before I could respond, a knock came at the door.
“Your things, sir.”
Perfect timing.
Dominic stepped back, the moment breaking—but the tension didn’t. It lingered, heavy and electric.
“We’ll continue this later,” he said.
I didn’t like the sound of that.
At all.
He turned and walked out, leaving me alone in a room that didn’t feel like mine, in a life that definitely wasn’t mine.
But as I stood there, trying to steady my breathing, one thing became painfully clear—
This wasn’t going to stay simple.
Not with him.
Not with the way he looked at me.
And definitely not with the way my heart reacted every time he got too close.
Because somewhere between the contract…
And his touch…
Things were already starting to change.
- Writer
