Chapter 4: The Mansion Rules
462 Words
The ride to Adrian’s mansion was silent.
Not the comfortable kind of silence.
The heavy kind… the kind that made your thoughts louder.
I sat beside him, my hands resting on my lap, my new wedding ring catching the light every few seconds.
It still didn’t feel real.
Nothing did.
When the car finally stopped, my breath caught.
The mansion was even more intimidating at night.
Lights glowed from every corner, the building standing tall like something out of a dream—or a warning.
“Welcome home,” Adrian said, stepping out.
Home.
That word didn’t belong here.
Inside, the air felt cold.
Not temperature.
Something else.
Something unsettling.
A woman in her late forties approached us immediately, her posture straight, her face unreadable.
“Good evening, sir,” she said politely, before her eyes shifted to me.
There was judgment in them.
Sharp. Immediate.
“And this is?” she asked.
“My wife,” Adrian replied simply.
The word hit differently this time.
Wife.
Her expression didn’t change—but I felt it.
She didn’t approve.
“I see,” she said. “Dinner is ready.”
We sat across from each other at a long dining table.
Too long.
Like we were strangers forced into a picture-perfect scene.
Halfway through dinner, Adrian dropped his fork.
“Let’s make things clear,” he said, his voice calm but firm.
My chest tightened.
Here it comes.
“Rule one—you don’t go into the west wing.”
I frowned. “Why?”
His eyes lifted slowly to meet mine.
“Rule two,” he continued, ignoring my question, “you don’t touch anything in my private office.”
Okay…
“Rule three—you don’t ask about my past.”
I swallowed.
“And rule four?” I asked quietly.
This time, he leaned back, studying me.
“Don’t make me regret choosing you.”
A chill ran through me.
This wasn’t just control.
This was something else.
Later that night, I was shown to my room.
Our room.
The space was beautiful—large bed, soft lighting, everything perfect.
Too perfect.
But something felt off.
I couldn’t sleep.
My mind kept replaying his rules.
The west wing.
Don’t ask questions.
Don’t go there.
Which, of course…
Made me want to go there.
The hallway was quiet as I stepped out, my heart pounding with every step.
I told myself I was just looking.
Nothing more.
But as I reached the end of the corridor…
I saw it.
A door.
Slightly open.
Dark inside.
Waiting.
I hesitated.
This was a bad idea.
A very bad idea.
But something pulled me closer.
Slowly… carefully… I pushed the door open.
And what I saw inside—
Made my blood run cold.
- Writer
