Married to the cold billionaire

The Storm Inside (Part Two)

The silence between them stretched for what felt like hours. Elena couldn’t bring herself to leave. She wanted to say something, anything, but words felt insufficient. Adrian stood by the bar, sipping his scotch, the smooth liquid slipping down his throat as though it could soothe whatever inner storm raged inside him.

It didn’t soothe her.

She had always known there were things about Adrian she didn’t understand. Layers to him that remained hidden beneath the cold, business-like exterior. But tonight… tonight was different. There was something darker there. Something dangerous.

Finally, breaking the silence, Elena spoke. “Adrian, why do you care so much?”

He didn’t turn around, but the muscles in his back tensed. “What do you mean?”

“Why does it bother you that I speak with someone else?” she asked, her voice quieter now, more vulnerable than she intended. “I’m not asking for attention. I don’t want anyone else.”

A low laugh escaped him. It was bitter. “I don’t care about your want or your needs, Elena. What matters is your place. Your role.” He finally faced her, eyes cold as ice. “And your role is to stay by my side. You made a commitment.”

Her chest tightened. “I did make a commitment,” she said, walking closer. “But not to be your prisoner. I’m here because I chose to be, Adrian. You might not understand that, but I didn’t marry you for the money, or the status, or any of that. I married you because there was something in you I wanted to understand.” She paused, stepping even closer. “But now, I’m not sure I even recognize you anymore.”

The words hung in the air, and for the briefest moment, Elena thought she saw something flicker in his eyes—something like regret. But it was gone before she could be sure.

Adrian set his glass down, his hand shaking ever so slightly. “You think you understand me? You don’t, Elena. You don’t know what it’s like to have to keep control all the time, to never show weakness, to never… let go.”

She frowned. “That’s what you think this is? Control? This isn’t about control, Adrian. This is about connection. About trust. And I don’t feel any of that with you.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, the words harder now. “All I feel is distance. And it’s suffocating.”

He took a step forward, his jaw clenched, but his voice remained low and dangerous. “You’re not going anywhere.”

It wasn’t a threat—it was a statement. And for the first time, Elena wasn’t sure if he meant it in a way she could bear.

She crossed her arms, her heart thumping painfully. “I’m not leaving. But I can’t keep pretending like everything is fine when it’s not.” Her voice broke slightly. “I need something real, Adrian. I need you to let me in.”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, she thought he might say something—anything—to show that there was still some trace of the man she had once believed she could build a life with. But instead, he turned his back on her again, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered, almost to himself. “You don’t have the scars I do.”

A chill ran through her, deeper than the winter air that swept through the open balcony doors. “I don’t need to have your scars to care for you,” she said softly. “I just need you to let me.”

But Adrian didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The weight of his silence said more than any words could.

And in that moment, Elena knew: the storm inside him wasn’t going to pass easily. And maybe, just maybe, neither would the storm inside her.