THE TYRANT'S CONTRACT WIFE

Chapter 4: Rules of the Cage

The air inside the Sterling mansion felt heavy, almost clinical. After a tense afternoon of being poked, prodded, and painted by a silent team of high-end stylists, Elena stood in front of the mirror in her new bedroom. They had dressed her in a modest, emerald-green silk dress that draped elegantly over her frame. Her chestnut hair was pinned up perfectly, exposing the delicate column of her neck.

To anyone else, she looked like a stunning billionaire's wife. To herself, she looked like a beautifully packaged prisoner.

"Madam," a deep voice boomed from the doorway, startling her.

Elena turned to find a tall, broad-shouldered man in a dark suit standing at attention. He had a military posture and a completely blank expression.

"I am Marcus, your personal driver and security detail assigned by Mr. Sterling," the man said, offering a stiff nod. "Mr. Sterling instructed that you are permitted to leave the estate for personal errands before the evening dinner, provided I accompany you. Do you require transport?"

Elena’s heart skipped a beat. This was her only window. She couldn't use the mansion's shared medicine cabinets, and she certainly couldn't ask a maid to fetch what she needed.

"Yes, Marcus," Elena said, forcing her voice to remain steady while smoothing down the silk of her dress. "I... I forgot a few personal hygiene items at my old house. I'd like to stop by a local pharmacy to pick them up."

"Understood. The vehicle is ready in the courtyard."

Ten minutes later, Elena was sitting in the back of a luxury, armored SUV. The tinted windows cut her off from the rest of the world as Marcus drove smoothly into the city. Her mind was a chaotic whirlwind. Every bump in the road made her stomach twist with a fresh wave of anxiety.

When Marcus pulled up to a large, commercial pharmacy in a quiet district, he immediately stepped out to open her door.

"I will accompany you inside, madam," Marcus said, keeping a watchful eye on the surroundings.

Elena felt a cold sweat break out on the back of her neck. "No—Marcus, that won't be necessary. It's just... embarrassing women's products. Please wait by the car. I'll only be a few minutes."

Marcus hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly as he calculated the security risk. "Mr. Sterling’s orders were strict, Mrs. Sterling. Your safety—"

"I am perfectly safe inside a bright pharmacy," Elena interrupted, injecting a touch of the Vance family authority she had grown up watching into her voice. "Please. Give me five minutes of privacy."

Recognizing the boundary, Marcus slowly bowed his head. "I will be right outside the glass doors."

Elena didn't waste a second. She pushed through the heavy glass doors of the pharmacy, the cool, sterile air-conditioning hitting her face. She walked past the beauty aisles, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her eyes darted around frantically until she spotted the family planning aisle near the back corner.

Her hands shook so violently she almost dropped the small cardboard box. She grabbed a premium, digital pregnancy test—one that promised results in weeks for absolute certainty—and hid it beneath a bottle of standard vitamins she grabbed at random.

She paid the cashier in cash, refusing a bag to avoid leaving any physical evidence Marcus might spot. Tucking the small, rectangular box deep into the interior pocket of her designer trench coat, she walked back out to the SUV.

Marcus opened the door, his eyes briefly dropping to the vitamin bottle in her hand. "Are we ready to return to the estate, madam?"

"Yes," Elena whispered, leaning her head against the cool leather headrest as the car pulled away. "Take me back."

The ride back felt entirely too fast. By the time they returned to the Sterling estate, the clock was ticking down to five in the evening. Killian would be home soon.

Elena hurried up the grand staircase, ignoring the polite nods of the maids, and locked herself inside her private bathroom. She pulled the box from her pocket, her breath hitching as she tore open the plastic wrapping. Her hands were trembling so much she could barely read the instructions.

Three minutes, the box said. Wait three minutes for the digital readout.

Elena took the test, placed it face-down on the pristine marble counter, and sank to the floor. She pressed her back against the wooden cabinets, pulling her knees tightly to her chest. She watched the digital screen of her watch count down the seconds.

180... 120... 60...

The silence in the bathroom was deafening. Her entire life—her mother's safety, her contract, her future—depended on the tiny digital screen resting on the counter above her.

3... 2... 1.

Elena forced her shaky legs to stand up. She approached the counter, closing her eyes tightly before reaching out and flipping the digital stick over.

She opened her eyes.

Blinking through a sudden blur of tears, she stared at the clear, bold text displayed on the screen:

PREGNANT: 4-5 WEEKS.

Elena’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a scream of pure terror. It was real. She was carrying the child of an absolute stranger, trapped inside a fake marriage to a man who despised liars more than anything else in the world.

Suddenly, a loud, heavy knock rattled the bathroom door.

"Elena," Killian’s deep, impatient voice echoed from the bedroom side. "The car for my grandfather's manor leaves in ten minutes. Open this door."