Chapter 2
1078 Words
Elena Sinclair’s POV
My breath was uneven. My fingers twitched at my sides, but I couldn’t move.
Alex Carter was standing in front of me.
Standing.
I had spent the entire day forcing myself to believe I was marrying a cold, distant, crippled man. I had pushed down every horrible emotion—anger, betrayal, resentment—telling myself it wasn’t his fault. That neither of us wanted this marriage.
But now?
Now, I was staring at my husband—the man who had barely looked at me all day—walking across the room like nothing had ever been wrong with him.
His shirt was half unbuttoned, his dark hair slightly messy like he had just run his fingers through it. His broad shoulders and strong arms caught the moonlight streaming through the window, and for a brief second, I might have thought he looked… almost human.
But then his eyes locked onto mine.
Cold. Sharp. Calculating.
And I remembered exactly who I had married.
He exhaled slowly, tilting his head. "You should be asleep, Elena."
I felt a shiver crawl down my spine—not from fear. From something else. Something unfamiliar.
But I clenched my fists, forcing my voice to stay steady. “You can walk.”
His gaze didn’t waver. He didn’t deny it. He didn’t scramble for an excuse.
Instead, he took a slow step toward me.
Then another.
And another.
My pulse kicked up, but I stood my ground.
He stopped just in front of me, his scent, clean, masculine, laced with the faintest hint of cologne, curling into my senses. I refused to look away, but my stomach twisted into knots.
Up close, he was even more intimidating. Not because he was cruel. Because he was unreadable.
Finally, he spoke. “Forget what you saw.”
His voice was calm. Too calm. Like he wasn’t asking. Like he was telling.
My nails dug into my palms. “Are you serious?”
He didn’t blink.
I let out a short, humorless laugh. “You expect me to pretend that I didn’t just see my husband, who the entire world believes is paralyzed, walking around in the middle of the night?”
“Yes.”
His tone was flat, but there was something beneath it. A warning.
It only made me angrier.
I crossed my arms. “And what if I don’t?”
His jaw tightened slightly. “Then we have a problem.”
There was silence, laced with hints of anger between us.
Neither of us wanted to be the first to look away.
Finally, I forced myself to speak. “Why?”
“Why what?” He lifted a brow.
“Why lie?” My voice was quieter now, but I wasn’t backing down. “Why fake your disability? Why hide it from everyone?”
His expression didn’t change, but something glinted in his eyes.
“You’re asking the wrong questions.”
My throat felt dry. “Then tell me the right ones.”
His lips twitched slightly. “Elena…”
I hated the way my name sounded on his lips. Like he was amused. Like he already knew what I was going to do.
I shrugged my shoulders. “You think I’ll just let this go?”
“I think you should.”
His voice was lower now. Smoother. Almost… dangerous.
A small voice in my head told me to drop it. That I didn’t want to know the answers.
But another part of me—the part that had spent my whole life being overlooked, dismissed, treated as less—refused to be silenced.
“I’m not stupid, Alex.” My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t regret it. “I know a fraud schemewhen I see one.”
Something dark passed over his features. He took another step forward, closing the space between us even more.
I should have moved back. But I didn’t.
He was close now.
Too close.
His fingers brushed his unbuttoned shirt, drawing my attention for a second too long. I hated myself for noticing the sharp angles of his collarbone, the way his skin looked under the moonlight.
But when I dragged my gaze back up, his lips curved into the smallest, knowing smirk.
My stomach flipped.
Damn him.
“This isn’t your concern,” he murmured.
I swallowed. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
His smirk didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened.
I hated that I noticed how infuriatingly good he looked when he smiled like that.
“Elena,” he said, almost like he was testing how my name felt in his mouth.
My fingers curled tighter around my arms.
“If you’re smart,” he continued, his voice dropping slightly, “you’ll forget what you saw and go back to playing the obedient little wife my family expects you to be.”
I hated the way those words made my skin burn.
Obedient.
Like I was weak. Like I was small.
I stepped closer, refusing to let him win this little challenge. Refusing to let him intimidate me.
“I’m not the woman you think I am, Alex.” I tilted my chin.
His smirk faltered just slightly.
Good.
“You can keep your secrets,” I said quietly. “But don’t expect me to play dumb.”
I turned to leave, but before I could take a step, his hand shot out—fingers wrapping around my wrist.
A sharp jolt ran up my arm, and I inhaled sharply.
Not because it hurt.
But because his touch was warm.
Firm.
And suddenly, the space between us felt too small.
I looked up at him, heart hammering, but his expression had changed. His smirk was gone. His jaw was clenched.
And his grip on me?
Not forceful. Not painful.
Just… controlled.
“Elena.” His voice was softer now, but it wasn’t gentle.
It was a warning.
A warning I should have listened to.
But I didn’t.
I yanked my wrist free, stepping back.
Something unreadable flickered in his eyes. But then, just like that, his expression smoothed over.
Cold. Detached. Like nothing had happened.
“Suit yourself,” he said casually, turning away.
I watched him walk, walk, back toward his desk, like he hadn’t just turned my entire world upside down.
My mind screamed at me to let it go.
But I couldn't, if he wanted to play this game then two can play it.
- Writer
