Ruthless Billionaire Husband

Chapter 2 The Cold Arrival

Lina’s breath came out in shallow gasps as the carriage lurched to a halt before the towering gates of Demian’s estate. The massive iron gates creaked open slowly, revealing the grand estate beyond, a sprawling mansion draped in shadow. The estate, nestled high on a hill, was isolated, far removed from any semblance of warmth or comfort. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and overgrown ivy. The mansion loomed, silent and watchful, as though it had been waiting for her arrival for years.

She hesitated for a moment before stepping out of the carriage. The ground felt uneven beneath her feet, the gravel path crunching loudly in the silence that surrounded her. A shiver ran down her spine as the weight of the moment settled in. She was here, at the mercy of Demian’s world, a world she had never truly known, but now, one she would be forced to live in.

A maid appeared at the door, her face an unreadable mask. She gave a small nod and motioned for Lina to follow.

“Come along, miss. Your things have already been brought inside.”

Lina nodded absently, her mind still reeling. She hadn’t seen Demian since their brief meeting at her father’s house, the one that had sealed her fate. His presence had been suffocating, like a cold storm ready to burst. He had barely spoken to her then, and she had no reason to believe things would be any different now.

As she walked through the gates and up the path, her eyes darted from one dark corner of the mansion to another. The house felt alive with its own rhythm, as if it had a history, one that didn’t include her. The walls seemed to press in on her, their weight felt in the way her heart thudded harder with every step she took. She had expected the grand estate to feel like a place of power, but it felt more like a prison.

Inside, the halls were eerily silent, the only sound the soft echo of her footsteps on the cold marble floors. The walls were lined with portraits of stern-faced ancestors, their eyes following her every move. She felt like a ghost, floating through a place that wasn’t meant for her. The decor was elegant but sterile, the fine tapestries and sculptures a constant reminder of the world she was entering, a world far removed from her own.

The maid led her down a series of long, winding corridors, until they reached a door at the very end. She opened it without a word and stepped aside, allowing Lina to enter.

Her new room was magnificent—large and lavish, with dark wood furniture, rich velvet curtains, and a massive bed that could easily fit four people. The room was beautiful, but it felt cold, too cold, as though it had been prepared for someone who would never truly live in it. The fireplace had long since died out, and the only light in the room came from the faint glow of the afternoon sun streaming through the curtains.

Lina stepped into the center of the room, her fingers grazing the edge of the bed. The sheer size of it made her feel small, insignificant. She wasn’t sure what she had expected from Demian’s estate, but this was far beyond her imagination. Everything here seemed so... perfect, yet so lifeless. There was no warmth in any of it. Not in the room, not in the house, and certainly not in the man she had married.

She sat on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes, her heart heavy in her chest. She wanted to cry, to scream, but there was no point. The life she had once known, the life she had tried so hard to preserve, was slipping away from her. She had no one to turn to here, no one who could possibly understand what she was feeling.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening. She looked up to find the maid standing in the doorway once again.

“Dinner is at seven, miss,” she said, her tone formal, almost mechanical. “Mr. Demian will be joining you.”

Lina nodded, unsure of what to say. The maid left without another word, closing the door behind her. For a moment, Lina sat still, her fingers clenched in the soft fabric of her gown.

The hours leading up to dinner felt like an eternity. She wandered the halls aimlessly, trying to get used to the oppressive silence of the house, but it only made her feel more isolated. The only sound that seemed to fill the air was the distant creak of the old house settling, a constant reminder that she was a guest in a place that had no interest in making her feel welcome.

When the time for dinner finally arrived, Lina felt the knot in her stomach tighten. She didn’t know what to expect, but the thought of sharing a meal with Demian felt like a formality, a formality she wasn’t ready for. She had hoped for some kind of comfort, some warmth in the interaction, but deep down, she knew that Demian would not provide that.

The dining room was long and grand, the walls lined with dark wood and golden accents. A massive table stretched out before her, set with fine china and silver, but there was an unmistakable emptiness to it. Lina took a seat at one end of the table, her hands resting in her lap as she waited.

When Demian entered, she couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to fill the room with his presence. His dark suit was tailored perfectly to his frame, his every movement controlled and deliberate. He looked as though he belonged here, as though this world was his, and she was just an unwelcome visitor.

He took a seat at the opposite end of the table, his eyes briefly meeting hers before he looked away, his attention already focused on the meal before him. His gaze was cold, distant, as though she were no more than a piece of furniture in the room, there to serve a purpose he had no interest in.

Lina tried to eat, but the food tasted bland in her mouth. Every bite felt like an obligation, something she had to do simply because it was expected. There were no conversations, no small talk to ease the tension between them. It was as though Demian’s silence was a wall that Lina could never break through, no matter how hard she tried.

Finally, Demian stood, his chair scraping against the floor with a loud noise that made her jump. He didn’t look at her as he left the room, his departure as cold and unremarkable as everything else he had done since she arrived.

Lina sat there alone, the silence stretching out before her. The emptiness in the room was suffocating, the weight of it pressing down on her chest. This was her life now, and the realization sent a cold shiver down her spine.