Chapter 3 _ Bound to the Shadow
1796 Words
Chapter 3: Bound to the Shadow
Evelyn woke to warmth.
Not the gentle, gradual kind from sunlight or blankets, but a solid, radiating heat that pressed against her back and curled around her waist. For a disoriented second, she forgot where she was. Then memory slammed into her like a wave: the registry, the certificate, the penthouse. The man.
Adrian.
His arm was draped over her, heavy and possessive even in sleep. At some point during the night, the careful distance they’d started with had vanished. Her body had sought his—or his had sought hers. She wasn’t sure which thought unsettled her more.
She lay perfectly still, afraid to breathe. His chest rose and fell steadily against her spine, each exhale stirring the fine hairs at her nape. The scent of him—cedar, something darker, unmistakably male—filled her senses. His hand rested just below her ribs, fingers splayed across the silk of her borrowed pajamas. Not gripping. Just… there. As if it belonged.
Her heart thundered so loudly she was sure it would wake him.
Carefully, slowly, she tried to inch away.
His arm tightened. Not painfully—just enough to stop her.
“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep, lips brushing the shell of her ear.
Evelyn froze.
He didn’t move his arm. Didn’t apologize. Just held her there, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“I—we—” she started, then stopped. What was there to say? You’re holding me like we’ve done this a thousand times?
“You were cold,” he said simply. “You moved first.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. She had no memory of it, but the idea that her body had betrayed her so completely was mortifying.
“I should get up,” she managed.
He released her immediately, the absence of his warmth leaving her strangely bereft. She scrambled out of bed faster than dignity allowed, nearly tripping over the trailing sheet.
Adrian sat up, the movement fluid and unhurried. The sheet pooled low on his hips, revealing the sculpted lines of his torso. That faint scar near his ribs caught the early light—a thin, pale line she hadn’t noticed last night. She looked away quickly.
“I’ll shower first,” she said, already backing toward the bathroom.
“Take your time,” he replied, voice still husky. “Breakfast will be ready when you are.”
She fled.
The bathroom mirror showed a woman she barely recognized—cheeks flushed, eyes too bright, hair a wild tangle from restless sleep. She turned the shower to cold and stood under it until her pulse slowed.
By the time she emerged—dressed in simple black leggings and an oversized sweater from the closet (all perfectly her size, which was its own kind of unnerving)—the bedroom was empty. The bed was made with military precision. No trace of their tangled morning.
She padded barefoot down the hallway, following the faint scent of coffee and something savory.
The kitchen was a chef’s dream—sleek black marble counters, industrial appliances, an island big enough to seat eight. Adrian stood at the stove, back to her, flipping what looked like French toast with effortless competence. He’d showered too; his hair was still damp, and he wore a charcoal Henley that clung to his shoulders and gray sweatpants that should probably be illegal.
He glanced over his shoulder as she entered.
“Coffee?” he asked.
“Please.”
He poured a mug from a sleek machine and slid it across the island toward her. Their fingers brushed—just for a second—but the contact sent a jolt straight through her.
She wrapped both hands around the mug like a shield.
Adrian plated the food—golden French toast, fresh berries, crisp bacon—and set one in front of her, taking the seat across the island. They ate in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the soft clink of cutlery.
It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly. But it was loaded.
Finally, he spoke. “Your things will arrive today. Lucas is handling it.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“I’ve also arranged for a new phone. Yours is… compromised.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Ryan Lawson has been trying to reach you. Repeatedly. It’s better if he can’t for now.”
A cold knot formed in her stomach. “You’re monitoring my phone?”
“I’m protecting my wife,” he said calmly. “Even a secret one.”
The possessiveness in his tone should have angered her. Instead, it sent an unwelcome shiver down her spine.
“I can protect myself,” she said quietly.
His dark eyes met hers. “You shouldn’t have to. Not anymore.”
Something in his voice—something raw beneath the calm—made her look away first.
Her new phone buzzed on the counter. A text from an unknown number.
Unknown: It’s Mia. Your assistant. Lucas gave me this number. WHERE ARE YOU? Ryan’s agency is saying you’ve had a “family emergency.” People are asking questions. Call me NOW.
Evelyn’s stomach dropped.
Adrian noticed—of course he did. “Problem?”
“My assistant. She’s worried.”
He nodded once. “Invite her here. She’ll need to know enough to help manage the narrative.”
Evelyn stared at him. “You’re okay with someone knowing?”
“One person you trust is acceptable. For now.”
She texted Mia the address with shaking fingers.
An hour later, the private elevator chimed.
Mia Carter burst out like a hurricane—petite, red-haired, eyes wild behind oversized glasses. She spotted Evelyn immediately and launched herself across the foyer.
“Ev! Oh my God, what is going on? Ryan’s people are saying you’re ‘taking time for family,’ but your mom called me looking for you, and—” She stopped dead as Adrian stepped into view, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Mia’s mouth formed a perfect O.
“Mr.—Mr. Blackwood?” she squeaked.
Adrian inclined his head. “Miss Carter. Evelyn will explain. Lucas will see you out when you’re ready.”
He turned and disappeared down the hallway, leaving the two women alone.
Mia grabbed Evelyn’s arm and dragged her into the living room, voice a frantic whisper. “What the hell is Adrian Blackwood doing in your apartment? Wait—this isn’t your apartment. Where are we?”
Evelyn took a deep breath. “Sit down, Mia.”
Mia sat.
“I’m married,” Evelyn said.
Mia blinked. “To Ryan? But the wedding—”
“Not to Ryan.” Evelyn pulled the red marriage certificate from her bag and handed it over.
Mia opened it. Read the names. Looked up slowly.
“You married Adrian Blackwood,” she whispered. “The Adrian Blackwood. The one no one has seen in public in years. The one who owns Aurora Entertainment and half the city.”
“Yes.”
Mia’s eyes darted to the hallway Adrian had vanished down. “When? How? Why?”
“Yesterday. At the registry. Because Ryan was with Bella, and Adrian needed a wife the same day his arranged bride bailed, and… I don’t know, Mia. I just… did it.”
Mia stared at her for a long moment, then pulled her into a fierce hug.
“Oh, Ev. I’m so sorry about Ryan. And Bella. That absolute snake.”
Evelyn’s eyes stung. She hadn’t cried since the night before. Now, in Mia’s arms, the tears threatened again.
Mia pulled back, wiping her own eyes. “Okay. Practicalities. No one knows?”
“No one but you.”
“Good. We can work with that. The ‘family emergency’ story buys us time. I’ll handle the press inquiries—say you’re grieving a distant aunt or something. But Ev…” Mia glanced toward the hallway again. “Adrian Blackwood? He’s… terrifying. And terrifyingly hot. Are you okay?”
Evelyn managed a watery laugh. “I think so. It’s a six-month contract. Secret. Trial only.”
Mia raised an eyebrow. “And you’re living here?”
“Yes.”
“In separate rooms?”
Evelyn hesitated.
Mia’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. You’re sharing a bed with Adrian Blackwood.”
“Shh!”
“Sorry, sorry.” Mia lowered her voice. “Have you…?”
“No! God, no. It’s just sleeping.”
Mia gave her a look that said she wasn’t buying it.
From the hallway, Adrian’s deep voice carried. “Lucas will drive you home, Miss Carter. Evelyn has an audition tomorrow. You’ll coordinate with him from now on.”
Mia jumped. “He hears everything,” she whispered.
Evelyn nodded weakly.
Mia hugged her again. “Call me anytime. I’ve got your back. And Ev? Whatever this is… maybe it’s not the worst thing.”
After Mia left, Evelyn stood in the foyer for a long moment, processing.
An audition tomorrow?
She hadn’t submitted for anything in months.
Adrian appeared again, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.
“You arranged an audition,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“I arranged an opportunity,” he corrected. “A lead role in Director Chen’s new drama. They were looking for someone with your… exact qualities.”
She stared at him. “How did you even know I’d want—”
“You’re an actress,” he said simply. “And you’re wasted playing supporting roles to people who don’t deserve you.”
Something warm unfurled in her chest—dangerous and unfamiliar.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked quietly.
He stepped closer, close enough that she had to tilt her head to meet his eyes.
“Because I can,” he said. “And because no one humiliates my wife. Not even in the past.”
His wife.
The word hung between them, heavy and electric.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then he reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek, his thumb lingering just a second too long.
“Get some rest,” he said softly. “Tomorrow, the world starts seeing you the way you were always meant to be seen.”
He walked away, leaving her standing there, heart racing, skin tingling where he’d touched her.
In his study, Adrian poured himself a drink and stared out at the city below.
Mia Carter would be an asset. Loyal. Discreet enough.
And Evelyn…
Evelyn was finally beginning to look at him like he was more
than a stranger.
He allowed himself a small, private smile.
Three years of waiting.
It was only just beginning.
- Writer
