Chapter5
787 Words
The grand wedding ceremony had been nothing but a show. The world saw an extravagant affair between two prestigious families, but Anaya knew the truth—this marriage was a transaction, and she was nothing more than a pawn.
As she stepped into Lucien Rodrigo’s mansion, dressed in a white wedding gown that felt heavier than chains, reality hit her harder than ever.
She was married.
To a man who barely acknowledged her existence.
Lucien walked ahead of her, his tall figure moving effortlessly through the dimly lit hallway. The mansion was enormous—cold, elegant, and unwelcoming.
Anaya followed in silence, the soft rustling of her gown the only sound echoing through the corridors.
When they reached his bedroom, Lucien pushed the heavy wooden door open and stepped inside without looking at her. Anaya hesitated before following.
The room was massive—black and silver décor, a fireplace burning low in the corner, and a large king-sized bed that dominated the space.
Lucien walked to the bar near the window, pouring himself a drink. He took a slow sip before finally turning his piercing gaze to her.
She lifted her chin. “So, this is it?”
Lucien smirked, leaning against the bar. “You expected something else?”
Anaya crossed her arms. “Most husbands at least acknowledge their wives.”
He let out a humorless chuckle. “Let’s not fool ourselves, Anaya. This marriage is nothing but an arrangement.”
She took a step forward. “And whose fault is that? I never asked for this.”
Lucien set his glass down with a soft clink. “Neither did I. But here we are.”
Anaya let out a slow breath, trying to control her rising frustration. “Fine. So what now? We pretend we don’t exist?”
Lucien tilted his head slightly, studying her. “That would be ideal.”
She scoffed. “And where am I supposed to sleep?”
Lucien didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he walked toward the bed, grabbed one of the pillows, and threw it onto the floor near the fireplace. Then he picked up a thin blanket and tossed it beside the pillow.
Anaya stared at it, then back at him. “You’re joking.”
Lucien arched a brow. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
She clenched her fists. “You expect me to sleep on the floor?”
He walked past her, heading toward the bed. “It’s either that, or you find somewhere else in the mansion. But you’re not sleeping in my bed.”
Anger burned in her chest. “This is humiliating.”
Lucien shrugged as he pulled back the covers. “Get used to it.”
Anaya stood frozen, watching as he climbed into bed, switched off the bedside lamp, and closed his eyes as if she wasn’t even there.
She swallowed hard. “You’re unbelievable.”
She let out a bitter laugh, bending down to grab the thin blanket. She lowered herself onto the hard floor, her body aching from exhaustion, but she refused to let him see her break.
Her wedding night had turned into a nightmare.
And she had no idea when—or if—it would ever end.
Anaya woke up to the sound of movement. She blinked, her body sore from sleeping on the hard floor.
Lucien stood near the closet, buttoning a crisp black shirt. His expression was blank, his movements precise and controlled.
She pushed herself up, rubbing her stiff neck. “So, what now?”
Lucien barely spared her a glance. “You will stay out of my way. We won’t play husband and wife, not in public or private.”
Anaya stood, brushing off the wrinkles from her dress. “And if I don’t?”
Lucien turned, stepping toward her slowly. His dark eyes locked onto hers with a cold intensity. “Then you’ll regret ever stepping into my world.”
His voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge beneath it—a warning she couldn’t ignore.
Anaya refused to back down. “I already regret it.”
A smirk ghosted over his lips. “Good. Then we understand each other.”
She exhaled sharply. “Tell me, Lucien… Why do you hate me so much? I didn’t choose this either.”
Lucien’s expression darkened, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed his watch from the dresser and walked past her without another word.
Anaya turned as he reached the door. “For how long do you plan to treat me like this?”
Lucien paused but didn’t turn around. “As long as you’re here.”
Then, he walked out, leaving her alone in his cold, intimidating world.
- Writer
