Shackled By Choice

Chapter3

Chapter 3

Elena’s heart raced against her ribs at Marcus’s words about her mother.

“What do you know about my mom?” Her voice trembled.

Marcus thrust out an arm to grasp her chin. "Careful, Elena. There are some questions you shouldn’t have asked."

"Let go of me." She attempted to pull away, but he tightened his grip.

"You signed the contract. You're my wife now." His thumb slid over her lower lip. “That means you do it the way I say.”

“I didn’t sign up to be your prisoner.

His laugh was cold. "Prisoner? You entered this cage of your own free will. Now..." He released her abruptly. "Go change. “Because we have a charity gala in an hour.”

"What? You can't just—"

“Your dress is waiting for you upstairs. I want you ready in forty-five minutes.” He turned away dismissively. "And Elena? Make sure you smile. The press will be watching."

The dress was blood red, revealing and clearly expensive. When Elena put it on, she knew this was another kind of control. He was claiming her, showcasing her as one would do with a possession.

At the gala, Marcus held her close, his fingers possessively tracing her lower back. To outsiders, they were seemingly the ideal power couple. How his fingers gripped her skin whenever she spoke to another man — only Elena knew.

“Mrs. Reed,” a young executive came up. “I loved your design proposal for the eco-friendly furniture line.

Before Elena could answer, Marcus interrupted. “My wife retired from the furniture business. She has … other priorities now.”

The next few weeks followed a pattern.Share this — Marcus would vanish for days, then return, controlling her with an unsettling blend of icy commands and raw physical attention that left Elena confused and raw. While he was away, his staff monitored her. When he was home, he expected her undivided attention but offered nothing in return.

The tipping point occurred at yet another corporate event. Elena listened in at the edge of the crowd:

"Poor thing has no idea..."

"Well, what did she expect? Reed — men like Marcus Reed never change..."

“I hear he still has an apartment downtown for his … special friends.”

Elena confronted him that night. "Is it true? The Fifth Avenue apartment?”

“You’re back to asking questions.” His voice was dangerously low.

"Answer me!"

"Yes." He didn’t even attempt to deny it. “Did you honestly think you were any different, Elena? This marriage is a business deal. And what I do with my time is none of your business.”

Something snapped inside her. “Then you don’t mind if I start arranging some business of my own?”

His arm shot out, closing around her wrist. “Do it, and you’ll see how unpleasant I can be.”

"You're hurting me!"

"No," he said quietly. "Not yet. But push me, and I will."

Elena wriggled free, stepping back. "You're a monster."

“You knew what I was when you married me. Now, go to bed. I have a late meeting."

“With your one of your special friends?”

The slap never arrived, but rather his expression left her wishing that he had hit her instead. "Careful, wife. You're becoming tedious."

That night, Elena stayed awake, plotting her escape. She needed evidence — of his affairs, of what he was hiding about her father, about her mother. Secrets still lay on the upper floor of the mansion. She just had to find them.

But while she thought she was alone she didn't realise that Marcus was watching her through the mansion's security system with a cruel smile on his lips as he watched her uneasy.

“She’s beginning to break,” James Walker said from next to him.

"Good." Marcus did not look away from the screen. “All is proceeding as I have foreseen.”

Elena watched the small security camera in the corner of her room move slightly — its small red light blinking out in the dark. Another reminder of her bejeweled prison. She had taken three weeks mapping them all out, describing their blind spots, the guards’ rotations, their patterns. If Marcus thought she was cracking, he had another thing coming.

Her laptop lit up dimly as she flipped through vintage newspaper archives. Her mother’s death had been classified as accidental — a car crash on a rainy night. Elena had been too young to question it back then, but now… The piece stated that Mitchell Industries would unveil a revolutionary new line of furniture the next day. Her mother was a head of design.

A soft knock disturbed her research. "Mrs. Reed?" Harrison’s voice sounded apologetic. “Mr. Reed wants you to join him in his study.”

Elena shut the laptop, smoothing down her silk robe. "At midnight?"

"He was... insistent."

Marcus’s study was the only room on the ground floor that she’d never been allowed to enter. She discovered him behind an immense desk, illuminated by floor-to-ceiling windows. Pummeling rain hammered against the glass, throwing shadows around his face.

"Sit." He didn’t lift his gaze from his papers.

Elena remained standing. “I’m not one of your employees.”

For now he glanced up, his dark eyes glittering. "No. You're my wife. Which means when I say sit..." His voice hardened. "You sit."

She dropped into the leather chair, loathing how her body reacted to his authoritative tone. "What do you want?"

“Victoria visited me today.” He watched her reaction very closely. “She said some interesting things about Project Aurora.”

Elena's heart skipped. She’d been digging into that project for weeks, since Marcus had mentioned it. "Oh?"

“She says you have been looking at old company files. Making inquiries." He got up, walked around the desk. “I believed I made myself clear about not being involved in business.”

And I thought I made it clear I’m not your puppet.” Elena rose to face him. "What are you hiding, Marcus? What, in fact, happened to my mother?”

His hand flashed out, wrapping around her throat — not squeezing, just holding. A warning. “You’re playing a very dangerous game.”

"So are you." She met his gaze steadily. "I found the connection. She died on a Thursday; Project Aurora launched a Friday. The very same design she'd been making waves about based on safety fears.”

His grip tightened slightly. “Those designs were signed off by your father.”

"After she died." Elena’s voice was hardly a whisper. “And now you’re using me to, what? Get revenge?"

There was a soft, cruel laugh from Marcus. “So you think this is revenge? His other hand traveled down her spine, sending chills through her. "No, Elena. This is about justice. And you..." His lips brushed her ear. “You’re the answer to all of it.”

"Why me?"

“Because you’re just like her.” He switched to her hair, yanking her head back. "Brilliant. Stubborn. “And ultimately… expendable.”

The threat lingered between them for a moment, then he kissed her, hard and possessive. Elena knew it was a time to fight, a time to run, but then she found herself answering blow for blow. This was their dance now — danger and desire, secrets and power.

When he released her at last, his eyes were dark with something more than lust. "Go to bed, Elena. We are having dinner tomorrow with your father.”

"Why?"

His smile was predatory. “Because it’s time for the next stage of our little game. And you’re going to help me tear him down.”

Elena ran out of the study, her mind spinning. She had until tomorrow to choose — play Marcus’s game and finally find out the truth about her mother, or warn her father and throw away everything she’d uncovered.

James Walker watched her walk back into her bedroom on a security camera. “She’s tougher than we thought.”

"Good." Marcus loosened his tie. “That’s the way she’s trained to be for what’s to come.” He opened a file on his computer — Project Aurora’s original designs, Elena’s mother’s signature crossed out and replaced with her father’s. "Call our friend at the SEC. It's time to move forward."

Elena was sitting in her darkened room when thunder crashed outside, a decision crystallizing. She would not be a pawn to anyone — her father’s, Marcus’s. At dinner tomorrow, she’d start playing her own game.

And she was going to make them all sorry they underestimated her.