Chapter 3: The House of Secrets
1080 Words
The drive to Adrian’s mansion was silent.
Too silent.
Lena sat stiffly in the passenger seat of the sleek black car, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. The city lights blurred past the window, but she barely noticed them.
Her mind was racing.
Mrs. Blackwood.
The name still didn’t feel real.
Beside her, Adrian drove with one hand on the wheel, his expression unreadable as ever. It was like nothing had changed for him.
Like marrying a stranger was just another business deal.
“Do you always do this?” Lena finally asked, breaking the silence.
“Do what?”
“Change people’s lives like it’s nothing.”
Adrian didn’t look at her. “I don’t change lives. People make their own choices.”
Lena scoffed. “That’s a convenient way to put it.”
No response.
Of course.
The car slowed as they approached massive iron gates. They opened automatically, revealing a long driveway lined with perfectly trimmed hedges and dim golden lights.
Lena’s breath caught.
“Is this… your house?”
Adrian didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
The mansion stood ahead like something out of a dream—no, not a dream.
A different world.
Cold. Perfect. Untouchable.
As the car came to a stop, Lena hesitated.
“This is insane,” she whispered.
“Get out.”
She shot him a look. “You could at least pretend to be polite.”
Adrian finally turned to her, one eyebrow slightly raised.
“You wanted honesty.”
Lena rolled her eyes but stepped out anyway.
The night air was cooler here, quieter. Almost too quiet.
Before she could take in more, the front doors opened.
A line of staff stood waiting.
Lena froze.
“You didn’t tell me there would be… an audience.”
“They work here,” Adrian said simply as he stepped beside her. “They’ll also be witnesses.”
“To what?”
“To you learning your role.”
Her stomach tightened.
“This isn’t a job,” she muttered.
“Everything is a job,” he replied. “You just signed yours.”
Before she could argue, a tall woman in a neat uniform stepped forward.
“Welcome home, Mr. Blackwood,” she said, bowing her head slightly.
Then her eyes shifted to Lena.
“And… Mrs. Blackwood.”
The title echoed louder this time.
Real.
Permanent.
“Your room is prepared,” the woman continued.
“Our room,” Adrian corrected calmly.
Lena turned to him sharply. “Excuse me?”
But Adrian had already started walking inside.
“Follow me.”
She stood there for a second, stunned.
Then quickly caught up.
The interior of the mansion was even more overwhelming—marble floors, towering ceilings, and a quiet elegance that felt almost suffocating.
“This place doesn’t even look lived in,” Lena said.
“It isn’t.”
That answer made her pause.
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” Adrian said, stopping suddenly, “I don’t like people getting comfortable.”
Lena crossed her arms. “That must make relationships really easy for you.”
Adrian’s gaze flickered to her.
“Who said anything about relationships?”
Right.
This wasn’t one.
They continued walking until they reached a large set of double doors.
Adrian pushed them open.
Lena stepped inside—and froze.
The room was massive.
Elegant.
A king-sized bed sat in the center, surrounded by soft lighting and dark tones that somehow felt both luxurious and intimidating.
“This is your room,” Adrian said.
“You mean our room,” she corrected, her tone sharp.
A faint smirk appeared on his lips.
“You’re learning.”
“I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes,” he repeated calmly, “you are.”
Lena let out a frustrated breath. “This was not in the contract.”
“You should read between the lines.”
“That’s not how contracts work!”
Adrian stepped closer.
Again.
Too close.
“You’re my wife,” he said quietly. “What do you think people expect?”
Her heart started beating faster.
“This is fake,” she said.
“Not to the world.”
Silence fell between them.
Heavy.
Charged.
“Relax,” Adrian added after a moment. “I’m not interested in forcing anything.”
Lena narrowed her eyes. “That’s not reassuring.”
“It’s the truth.”
For some reason… she believed him.
And that confused her even more.
“Then I’ll take the couch,” she said, pointing to the sleek sofa by the window.
Adrian glanced at it, unimpressed.
“You won’t last a night there.”
“Watch me.”
A pause.
Then—
“Fine.”
That surprised her.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Lena blinked.
“That was… easier than I expected.”
Adrian turned away, loosening his tie slightly.
“I don’t argue over things that don’t matter.”
Something about that stung.
“Good,” she said. “Because I’m not here to make your life easier.”
Adrian stopped.
Slowly turned back to her.
His eyes darkened slightly.
“Careful, Lena,” he said softly. “You might end up making it harder—for yourself.”
A chill ran through her.
Before she could respond, there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Adrian said.
The same woman from earlier entered.
“Dinner is ready,” she announced.
Lena’s stomach growled slightly—and she hated that it did.
“I’m not hungry,” she said quickly.
Adrian didn’t even look at her.
“You’ll eat.”
“I said I’m not—”
“You don’t get to refuse basic routines in this house.”
Her frustration boiled over.
“I am not one of your employees!”
“No,” Adrian said calmly.
“You’re something far more complicated.”
Silence.
Then—
“Five minutes,” he added, adjusting his cufflinks. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
And just like that—
He walked out.
Leaving Lena alone in a room that felt too big… and a life that felt even bigger.
She looked around slowly.
The bed.
The walls.
The door he just walked through.
“This is a mistake,” she whispered.
But deep down…
She already knew—
It was far too late to turn back.
- Writer
