The master bedroom was too quiet.
The silence pressed in from all sides, thick and heavy, like the air before a storm. My wedding gown felt heavier now, the lace digging into my shoulders, the beaded bodice constricting every breath.
Adrian stood near the tall windows, his broad back to me, one hand tucked casually into the pocket of his black tuxedo pants. The moonlight spilled across the room, catching in his hair and casting sharp shadows over the angles of his face.
"You should change," he said without turning around.
His voice was smooth, even, but it carried an authority that made my stomach twist.
I didn't move. "We need to talk."
Finally, he glanced over his shoulder. Those steel-blue eyes met mine, unreadable as ever. "About?"
"About what happened today," I said, my voice low but tight. "Why it was you at the altar instead of Ethan."
He faced me fully now, and for the first time, I noticed how tired he looked—tired, but not defeated. If anything, there was a strange calm about him, as if every move had been calculated long before I even woke up this morning.
"I already told you," he said. "It was necessary."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're going to get tonight."
I took a step toward him. "You can't expect me to just accept this. One minute I'm marrying Ethan, the next"
"You were never going to marry Ethan." His voice cut through mine like a blade. "Not after what I found out."
My breath caught. "What are you talking about?"
Adrian didn't answer. Instead, he crossed the room in two long strides, stopping just close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. His height, his presence it was overwhelming.
"You're my wife now, Elena," he said, his tone low but unyielding. "And whether you like it or not, that means you stay by my side. Until I decide otherwise."
My pulse hammered in my ears. "You don't own me."
His lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "You're wearing my ring, standing in my house, sleeping in my bed. That's close enough."
Heat rushed to my cheeks not from embarrassment, but from the sheer audacity of his words. I opened my mouth to fire back, but he moved past me, heading toward the door that led to the bathroom.
"Change," he said again, without looking back. "You'll be more comfortable."
When the door clicked shut behind him, I exhaled shakily. My fingers went to the diamond ring on my hand perfect, beautiful, and yet it felt like a shackle.
I wanted to take it off. I wanted to run. But where would I go? Ethan's words still echoed in my mind, and I couldn't tell if they were a warning or a threat.
I changed into the silk nightgown that had been laid out on the bed. It was soft, luxurious, and far more revealing than anything I'd ever worn to sleep. I pulled the robe tight around me and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting.
The bathroom door opened. Adrian stepped out, no longer in his tuxedo. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled to his forearms, revealing strong, veined arms.
He didn't look at me as he walked to the side table, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.
"Do you always drink alone on your wedding night?" I asked, unable to keep the bite from my voice.
He sipped, then set the glass down. "Do you always question your husband on yours?"
Husband. The word felt foreign, almost absurd.
"I don't even know you," I said quietly.
He looked at me then, and for a fraction of a second, something flickered in his gaze something softer, almost human. But it was gone before I could name it.
"You'll know enough," he said, his voice almost a promise, almost a warning.
I tightened the robe around me. "And Ethan?"
His jaw clenched. "Ethan doesn't matter anymore."
"He matters to me."
A dangerous stillness settled over him. He walked toward me slowly, deliberately, until he stood directly in front of me. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the whiskey on his breath.
"Forget him," Adrian said, each word deliberate. "The sooner you do, the safer you'll be."
Safe. There it was again. That word.
My mind spun with questions safe from what? Or who? But before I could speak, Adrian leaned down, bracing one hand on the bed beside me. His face was close enough that I could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw.
"This marriage isn't about love, Elena," he said. "It's about survival."
I stared at him, my heart pounding so loud I could barely hear the words.
And then, before I could respond, the sound of shattering glass echoed from somewhere downstairs.
Adrian straightened instantly, his entire body tensing. His hand slid into his pocket, and I caught a glimpse of something metallic before he turned toward the door.
"Stay here," he ordered, his voice low and sharp.
Without another word, he disappeared into the hallway, leaving me alone in the vast bedroom with the pounding of my own pulse and a gnawing sense that my life had just crossed into dangerous, uncharted territory.
The bedroom felt even bigger after Adrian left too much space, too much silence.I sat frozen on the bed, clutching the robe tight against my body. My ears strained for sounds from the hallway, but the only thing I heard was the frantic thump of my own heartbeat.
The shattering glass hadn't been an accident. It was too sharp, too loud, like something or someone had forced their way in.
Footsteps echoed faintly from downstairs. They weren't hurried, but they carried a weight, a deliberation that made my skin crawl.
Every instinct screamed at me to stay put, but curiosity twisted in my gut. I moved toward the bedroom door, barefoot, the thick carpet muffling my steps. My hand hesitated on the knob.
From the hallway, I could see a slice of the grand staircase. Adrian was already at the bottom, his broad frame a dark silhouette against the dim light from the chandelier. One hand was in his pocket again no, not a pocket. I could see it now. He was holding a gun.
I swallowed hard.
The shadows near the glass doors shifted. Someone was there. Tall. Lean. Wearing black.
"Who the hell are you?" Adrian's voice cut through the air, low but lethal.
The figure stepped forward just enough for the light to catch part of his face. My breath caught in my throat.
Ethan.
Even from here, I could see the familiar sharp line of his jaw, the intense eyes that once softened when they looked at me but not tonight. Tonight, his expression was carved from ice.
"Just visiting my new sister-in-law," Ethan said, his voice laced with venom. "Thought I'd bring a wedding gift."
His gaze flicked upward and found me. Our eyes locked across the distance, and for a moment, the world went silent.
Adrian followed his line of sight, then barked, "Elena. Upstairs. Now."
But I couldn't move. My legs felt rooted to the floor.
Ethan tilted his head slightly, as if assessing me, memorizing every detail. "You look beautiful tonight," he said. The words should have been sweet, but in his tone, they felt like a threat.
Adrian took a step closer to him, the gun still in his hand. "This isn't your home anymore, Ethan. Leave."
"I'm not here for the house," Ethan replied coolly. "I'm here for what's mine."
The words hit me like a physical blow. My hands clenched around the robe's fabric until my knuckles ached.
Adrian's jaw tightened. "She was never yours."
Ethan's smile was cold. "We'll see about that."
The tension in the room thickened until it was almost suffocating. Neither man moved, their gazes locked like two predators circling the same prey.
Then, in a motion so quick I almost missed it, Adrian reached for the security panel by the door. A shrill alarm filled the house, and the heavy metal shutters began to slide over the glass doors.
Ethan didn't flinch. He stepped backward into the shadows, his eyes never leaving mine. And then he was gone.
The moment the shutters locked into place, Adrian turned and strode up the stairs toward me. His movements were controlled, but there was something in his expression an edge of fear, or maybe anger that he couldn't quite hide.
"Didn't I tell you to stay in the room?" His voice was low, dangerous.
"I heard voices"
"You heard his voice." His eyes narrowed. "Don't let him get to you. That's exactly what he wants."
My chest rose and fell rapidly. "Adrian… what is going on? Why is Ethan"
"Enough." His tone was final, like a door slamming shut. "You will not see him again. You will not speak to him again. Do you understand?"
I wanted to say no. I wanted to demand answers. But the words caught in my throat.
Instead, I just nodded, because part of me knew whatever this was, I was already in too deep.
Adrian stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him. He reached up and brushed a strand of hair from my face. The gesture might have seemed tender to anyone watching, but there was a warning in his touch.
"Go to bed, Elena."
When he finally left the room to check the rest of the house, I sank onto the bed, my legs trembling.
Somewhere out there, Ethan was still watching. I could feel it. And deep down, I knew this wasn't the last time he would break through these walls.