CHAPTER 7: Shadows In The Penthouse, Fire In His Eyes
1111 Words
The first morning as Mrs. Thorne didn’t feel like a fairytale.
It felt like stepping into someone else’s shadow.
I woke up in the guest room or rather, my room apparently. I wrapped myself in a duvet that smelled faintly of lavenderas the sun crawled through the blinds in thin lines, cutting the room into sharp fragments of light and shadow. For a moment, I lay there trying to convince myself the courthouse, the cameras, the signatures were all a dream.
But then I smelled coffee.
Rich, expensive, slightly bitter. Like Noah.
I dragged myself out of bed, slipped on the warm sweater I’d brought from home, and padded out into the hallway. The penthouse was unnervingly quiet, like a graveyard. One of the things I would change because I can't live like this in 365 days. I followed the scent until I reached the kitchen.
Noah was there.
Not in a suit or armour. Just Noah
White shirt, sleeves rolled up, collar loose, hair slightly mussed. He looked annoyingly human like this, and that made my chest tighten in ways I refused to acknowledge.
He didn’t look at me when he spoke.
“You wake up late.”
I blinked. “Good morning to you too.”
He slid a mug toward me without meeting my eyes. “Your schedule starts at nine. You took too much time.”
“My schedule?” I repeated. “I didn’t realize you planned my life the moment I said ‘I do.’”
His gaze finally lifted, slow, sharp, dragging over my face like he was checking out the strength of my soul.
“It’s not planning your life,” he said coolly. “It’s protecting my investment.”
There it was again. Calling me his INVESTMENT again!!!
As if I was a stock he purchased with interest and caution.
I sipped the coffee just to avoid telling him to go to hell.
It was good and it irritated me more. I had wanted to laugh with joy if he couldn't made coffee.
“What’s this schedule?” I asked, stealing another sip.
“A meeting with the PR team,” he said. “We need to discuss the marriage announcement, public behavior, boundaries… expectations.”
My heart thudded not from fear because this lady Scarlett can definitely deal with anything, but from anger I tried to swallow.
“And what are your expectations, Noah?”
He studied me for a long moment, fingers tapping once against the counter.
“You don’t embarrass me,” he said quietly. “Not in public, not in private. And you don’t let anyone, friends, family and press, think this marriage is anything less than stable.”
Something in me snapped.
“You mean you want me to pretend,” I said, voice soft but razor-edged. “Pretend the coldness isn’t there. Pretend you didn’t force me into this with money. Pretend you actually wanted this marriage.”
His jaw tightened and I was happy
Let him feel a little discomfort.
He stepped closer, closing the distance between us until I had to tilt my head to look at him. I hated how tall he was. I hated the way my pulse responded without permission.
“This marriage,” he murmured, “is a business front. What I want has nothing to do with it. If it was up to me you wouldn't be here”
His warm breath brushed my cheeks and it infuriated me.
“But don’t make the mistake of thinking I don’t notice things,” he added.
My stomach flipped. “Notice what?”
He paused, too long. Then his eyes drifted over the sweater I wore, the way my hair fell, the faint red lipstick stain from yesterday that refused to fade completely.
“You walk into a room,” he said quietly, “and people look. So yes. You’ll play the role.”
Annoyingly, my body reacted before my brain could stop it. I was supposed to be hurt that someone rejects me. Even if it's Noah, I was supposed to feel that anger but instead I wasn't angry.
I stepped back, needing space to breathe, to think.
“Well,” I muttered, “if I must pretend, then so do you.”
He blinked. “Meaning?”
“You don’t get to be an iceberg in public or private. If people are watching us, they should see a happy couple. And if we’re alone…”
I folded my arms.
“…you could at least try to be less hostile.”
He stared at me like he was parsing a foreign language.
“I’m not hostile. What do you want Scarlett, since the day you arrived here you've been nice to me and we both know before all this you were not the least bit friendly”
“ okayyy. You tried to manipulate me into a contract knowing I had no choice there's no way I could be happy with that. But the deed is done and I have 365 days of living here. I've shown that i can put my emotions apart and work together and if it were up to me I wouldn't be here. You're the emotional equivalent of a freezer?” I shot back.
A long silence.
A silence thick enough to choke me.
Then or a split second Nah’s lips twitched.
A near-smile.
It was gone just as fast.
“You’re impossible,” he said.
“Thank you,” I replied sweetly.
He turned away, grabbing his coat, clearly done with the conversation. “The PR meeting is at ten. Be ready.”
“And if I’m not?”
He paused at the doorway, angled his face just enough that I saw the steel in his eyes.
“Scarlett,” he said quietly, “you’re smart enough to know I don’t like repeating myself.”
The way he said my name did something dangerous to me. Something I didn’t want to feel.
When he finally left, the penthouse felt too big, quiet and cold.
And I stood there gripping the warm coffee mug, realizing something terrifying:
I didn’t just marry a man with walls.
I married a man hose life was controlled by alarms
But if he thought I’d let him control every aspect of
this arrangement…
he was about to learn that Scarlett Lee didn’t break under pressure.
She redesigned it.
Today, I’d face his PR team.
Tonight, I’d start transforming this dead penthouse.
And somewhere in between, whether he liked it or not…
Noah Thorne would realize he wasn’t the only one in this marriage capable of dominance.
Not by a long shot.
- Writer
