Married to a cold CEO

The Penthouse

The city was alive beneath us, a restless ocean of light and sound, but inside the limousine, silence ruled. The leather seats felt too soft beneath me, suffocating almost, as though even the car itself was designed to remind me of how small I was in Alexander Knight’s world.

I sat stiffly with my hands folded in my lap, the weight of the new wedding ring still unfamiliar on my finger. Every time I looked at it, my heart gave a nervous jolt. It wasn’t a symbol of love. It was a reminder of the contract that had just chained me to him.

Across from me, Alexander was the picture of control—broad shoulders relaxed, eyes fixed on the city racing past the tinted windows. He hadn’t said a word since the ceremony ended. Not when we walked down the aisle together, not when the photographers shouted for smiles, not when his mother gave me that icy, knowing look that said I would never belong.

I stole a glance at him. The man was unreadable. His jaw was strong, sharp as if carved from stone, and his expression gave nothing away. If he felt anything about what had just happened, I couldn’t see it.

Finally, he spoke. “You’ll find the penthouse… adequate.” His voice was smooth, clipped, as if we were talking about a business deal and not a marriage.

Marriage. The word twisted in my chest.

“I’m sure it will be,” I murmured, staring down at my hands.

His gaze flickered to me then, brief but cutting. “Adequate isn’t the word. It’s the safest place in this city. No one touches what belongs to me.”

A shiver ran through me. The way he said it—like I was part of his empire, a possession, a jewel locked away in his vault—made my stomach tighten.

When we finally pulled up, the sight stole my breath. The building towered into the sky, glass and steel glowing against the night. Security guards bowed their heads as the car rolled into the private entrance. Inside, the elevator whisked us upward so fast my ears popped, until finally, the doors slid open to reveal a penthouse that could have belonged to royalty.

Marble floors stretched out beneath crystal chandeliers. Walls of glass revealed the entire skyline. The air smelled faintly of leather and something sharp, masculine—his presence lingered here, even before he stepped inside.

I walked slowly, afraid to touch anything, afraid to break the illusion. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.

“It’s functional,” Alexander corrected. “Every room serves a purpose. You’ll find the master suite upstairs.”

“The master suite?” My cheeks burned. “We… we’ll be sharing a room?”

His lips curved, not quite a smile. “Did you think marriage meant separate quarters?”

“I thought…” I trailed off, unable to finish. I had thought maybe, somehow, he’d allow me distance.

Instead of answering, he stepped closer. His presence was overwhelming, filling the space until I could barely breathe. “Don’t mistake this for a romance, Emily. You signed a contract. You’ll play the part of my wife, and that part requires you to be by my side.”

My throat tightened. “And if I fail?”

His eyes darkened. “Failure isn’t an option.”

For a moment, neither of us moved. The city lights glittered around us, but I felt trapped, a bird inside a cage gilded in gold.

Finally, he turned away, loosening his tie with deliberate slowness. “Get some rest. Tomorrow, the world will watch you more closely than ever. Learn quickly, or they’ll eat you alive.”

I stood frozen as he disappeared down the hallway, his footsteps echoing through the vast penthouse.

The silence left in his wake was unbearable. I pressed my palms against the cool marble counter, fighting the tears threatening to spill. This was my life now—marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and a man whose heart seemed colder than the city below.

And yet… when I thought of the way his hand lingered against mine during the vows, or the way he had shielded me from the flashbulbs when we exited the church, I couldn’t stop the dangerous thought creeping in.

Maybe there was more to Alexander Knight than the ruthless billionaire I had married.

But if there was, finding it might destroy me.