The morning arrived wrapped in gold. Aurora opened her eyes to the quiet rhythm of Adrian's breathing beside her. He was still asleep, his features softened by slumber. In this light, he looked years younger, untouched by the weight of expectations or the fortress of his cold exterior. She studied his face for a long time, letting herself imagine this was real—this peace, this closeness, this man who had once been just a stranger with a ring. She eased out of bed quietly and padded across the room, grabbing a light robe. Her heart was strangely full, but there was also a tremor beneath her ribs. Last night had been gentle. Almost too gentle. She had known enough illusions to be wary of ones that felt too perfect.
Downstairs, the kitchen was already buzzing. Aurora had insisted on learning the names of the staff—something Adrian told her was unnecessary, but she did it anyway. She greeted Grace, the head cook, with a smile.
"Good morning, ma'am," Grace beamed. "Would you like your tea out in the sunroom?"
"Yes, thank you," Aurora said. "And please, call me Aurora."
Grace smiled more deeply and nodded. Moments later, Aurora sat by the wide glass windows, sipping her tea while the garden basked in the morning light. Her thoughts returned to Adrian. Was he truly trying? Or just offering her trinkets of kindness to keep her content while remaining a closed door?
She didn't have long to think before Adrian entered the room, his hair still slightly damp from the shower. "You're up early," he said.
"I didn't want to disturb your sleep," she replied, setting her cup down.
He nodded and poured himself a cup of black coffee, then joined her at the table. "Did you sleep well?"
"I did," she said, watching his eyes. "It was… nice. Having you there."
He nodded again, silent for a long moment. "I'm not used to sharing space with anyone."
"I noticed," she said gently. "But I appreciate the effort."
Adrian looked out the window, then back at her. "There's something I need to tell you. Something I should've said before."
Aurora leaned in slightly. "What is it?"
"My father is coming home. Today."
The words landed heavily. Aurora's fingers tightened slightly around the teacup. She had heard about Thomas Blackwood only in whispers—the former CEO who had stepped down mysteriously and left Adrian to carry the empire's weight. "I thought he was in Switzerland for treatment."
"He was. But he's returning early. I didn't think he'd be back so soon."
"What does that mean for us?" she asked.
Adrian stood slowly. "It means… appearances will matter even more. He's old-fashioned. Controlling. The kind of man who still believes women should be ornamental."
"And does he know about our marriage?" she asked.
"He knows we're married. But he doesn't know the circumstances."
Aurora stood too. "So what are we supposed to be? The perfect couple now?"
His jaw tightened. "We have to be convincing. For now."
Aurora's chest ached. Just when they had begun to move toward something real, the past came knocking, demanding performances again. "I understand," she said. "I just hope we don't forget what was real when we pretend."
Adrian looked at her, and something flickered in his eyes. Regret? Worry? She couldn't be sure. "We won't forget," he said.
By noon, the estate was in a quiet flurry. Staff polished every surface, arranged fresh flowers, and adjusted curtains like royalty was arriving. Aurora changed into a soft lavender dress, her hair pinned up neatly. She looked in the mirror and saw not just herself, but the woman she was expected to be. She wasn't sure she liked her.
When the sleek black car pulled up the driveway, Adrian was already waiting by the door. Aurora stood beside him, heart pounding, trying to summon strength she wasn't sure she had. Thomas Blackwood emerged slowly from the car, tall and lean, with silver hair slicked back and eyes sharp as cut glass. He carried a cane but moved with the kind of command that didn't require speech.
"Father," Adrian said.
"Son," Thomas replied, his voice clipped and smooth.
Then his gaze turned to Aurora, sweeping over her from head to toe like she was a statue in an auction. "And this must be the wife."
Aurora smiled politely and extended a hand. "Aurora."
Thomas shook her hand without warmth. "Pretty name. Let's hope it's more than just that."
Adrian's eyes darkened slightly, but he said nothing.
Lunch was tense. Thomas asked pointed questions about Aurora's family, her education, her opinion on business mergers—more like a boardroom interrogation than a family meal. Aurora answered each question with composure, though her stomach twisted with each smirk Thomas offered after her replies.
"So, how did you two meet?" he asked, piercing through a bite of steak.
Adrian hesitated. "Through mutual business contacts."
"A convenient match, then?" Thomas mused.
Aurora stepped in. "Convenient, yes. But not without meaning."
Thomas raised an eyebrow. "We'll see about that."
The rest of the meal passed like a test. Aurora passed. Barely. But she saw the calculation in Thomas's eyes, like he was assessing whether she was a threat or a pawn.
Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Adrian and Aurora retreated to the study. She sank into one of the leather armchairs, exhaustion dragging at her shoulders.
"That was… intense," she said.
Adrian sat across from her. "He's always been like that. Nothing is ever good enough."
"He doesn't like me," Aurora said, not as a complaint but a fact.
"He doesn't like anyone he can't control."
She met Adrian's eyes. "And you? Are you still under his control?"
Adrian was quiet for a long time. "I used to be. But I'm not that boy anymore."
"Then prove it," she said. "Don't let him turn our lives into a performance again."
He stood and walked to her slowly. "I don't want to pretend anymore. Not with you."
Aurora searched his face. "Then don't."
He reached for her hand, fingers brushing hers. "I know I'm late in trying. But I want to try right."
She nodded, her throat tight. "Then let's fight for the version of us that's real. Even if the world prefers the lie."
He pulled her gently to her feet, and for the first time, kissed her—not with urgency or demand, but with quiet sincerity. It was a promise more than a passion, a beginning more than a conclusion.
As night deepened around the estate, and the shadows of the past tried to stretch into the future, Aurora and Adrian stood in the silence between them—not as enemies, not as strangers, but as two souls choosing, moment by moment, to become something more.