Chapter 3: Moving Into His World
1081 Words
I didn't sleep that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I thought of Adrian's face. His serious, intense look. He'd said, "I need a wife." How his fingers had grazed my lips.
That wasn't what this was supposed to be like.
This was supposed to be a contract.
A means to survive.
Nothing more.
When I woke up in the morning, my head was heavy, and my heart felt even heavier. After checking on my mom and verifying that she was receiving treatment, I stuffed the few clothes I had into a single small suitcase.
All of my belongings fit inside it.
A couple of dresses.
Some old books.
A picture of my mom and me when I was ten years old.
That was everything.
I looked around the tiny space one final time.
Peeling paint.
Old couch.
Cracked windows.
There were so many bad memories of struggling here.
"Goodbye," I whispered.
Then I left.
---
A shiny black car was already parked in front of my building.
Of course it was.
The driver stepped out of the car the moment he spotted me.
"Miss Blake?"
"Yes."
"Mr Knight sent me. Please...get in."
I nodded and got in the car. My heart was racing fast. This felt surreal. It felt like I had entered someone else's life.
The ride was long and completely silent.
As we pulled away from the bustling city streets and into the quiet, affluent neighbourhoods, my anxiety increased. Large fences. Large homes. Guards everywhere.
Then the car slowed down.
Large black gates swung open for us slowly.
And I saw it.
Adrian's mansion.
No...mansion isn't the correct term.
It looked like a private palace.
My breathing caught as the car made its way up the long driveway to the house. The house was absolutely enormous, modern, and completely encircled with beautifully manicured gardens and fountains. Everything looked expensive. Beautiful. Unattainable.
I felt tiny suddenly.
The car stopped.
Before I could even open the car door, it opened for me.
Adrian was standing there.
Like he had been waiting.
He was wearing a black T-shirt and dark pants. His sleeves were rolled up slightly. I could see the muscles in his forearms. He looked a bit more casual than he had the day before...but also a lot more menacing.
My heart started pounding again.
"Good morning," he said calmly.
"Good morning," I replied softly.
For a moment, we just stared at each other. There was an unusual amount of tension between us...not unpleasantly...just...intensely.
He picked up my suitcase with ease. "You won't need this."
"I...won't?"
"You'll find everything you need inside," he said.
Of course I would.
He motioned towards the house. "Let's go."
I followed him into the house.
As soon as I walked into the house, I froze.
Inside the house was magnificent. High ceilings. Crystal chandeliers. Elegant furniture. Everything looked like it should be featured in a high-end magazine.
I felt out of place instantly.
My old, scuffed-up shoes felt ridiculous next to the gleaming floor.
Adrian caught my hesitation. His voice softened a bit. "Don't worry. This is your home now."
Home.
The word sounded odd coming out of my mouth.
He led me upstairs to a large set of double doors. As he opened them, I gasped quietly.
The bedroom was massive. Calming colours. An enormous bed. A balcony with a beautiful view. And a walk-in closet larger than my entire apartment.
"This...this is too much," I whispered.
"It's yours," he said matter-of-factly.
I looked at him. "Why are you doing all of this for me?"
He slowly took a step or two closer. "Because from now on, you represent me. My wife can't live in poverty."
The word *wife* caused a faint shudder.
I nodded slowly. "Okay."
He looked at me for a moment longer. Then he spoke in a lower tone. "Are you scared?"
I hesitated.
"Yes," I admitted.
His face softened ever so slightly. "You don't have to be."
Easy for him to say.
He walked past me to the closet. "Your clothing has already been arranged. Your jewellery as well. There will be people to help you."
"This feels like a dream," I whispered.
"A trap?" he asked quietly.
I looked at him.
He watched me intently.
"Do you feel trapped?" he asked.
I gulped. "I chose this."
"Yes," he said softly. "You did."
The room fell silent.
Then his phone rang. He looked at it quickly and then back at me. "We're leaving in one hour."
"Leaving?"
"To get married."
My heart skipped a beat. "Today?"
"That quick?"
"The quicker it happens, the better," he said.
My hands were shaking. This was happening too fast. I couldn't keep up.
He noticed my shaking hands.
Suddenly, he walked closer and gently grasped my wrist. His touch was warm. Strong. Calm.
"Breathe," he said quietly.
I hadn't realised how close we were until I felt his warm breath near my face.
My heart started pounding again.
His eyes dropped to my lips for a fraction of a second.
Then back to my eyes.
The air between us changed.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
I could feel his hand wrapped tightly around my wrist...holding it...possessively. Like he didn't want to let go.
"You're shaking," he muttered.
"I'm...nervous."
He ran his thumb lightly over my pulse.
The slight sensation sent a shiver through every part of my body.
Our eyes locked.
Time seemed to slow.
For a second, it felt like he might take another step closer. Like he may kiss me.
And, oddly...
I wasn't sure if I would stop him.
But then, he released my wrist.
The moment was broken.
He stepped back. His face was calm again.
"Get dressed. We don't have much time," he said.
My heart was still pounding.
As he walked toward the door, he turned back and looked at me.
"One thing more," he said casually.
"Yes?"
His voice became cold.
"Remember...this marriage is real to everyone. But to you...it's only a contract."
Those words affected me harder than I imagined.
Only a contract.
He walked out of the room.
And I stood there, alone, feeling my wrist where he had touched me, feeling confused and restless in my heart.
Because there was something in the way he looked at me...
Did not feel like a contract at all.
But there was also something in me...
A secret.
A hidden reason why he chose me.
And whatever that reason is...
It will not be easy to forgive.
- Writer
