The drive home from the hotel to the Riels family mansion was a silent torture. Inside the soundproof Rolls-Royce, not a single word was spoken. Elena turned her face to the window, watching the city lights twinkling like distant stars she could never reach. Beside her, Ethan sat in complete silence. Elena could feel the coldness radiating from his body, an aura of controlled anger that was almost palpable. She wondered if he would unleash his fury once they arrived home. A rebellious part of her almost wished for it—a fight would be better than this deadening silence.
The mansion looked like a sleeping monster in the darkness of the night as they passed through its towering wrought-iron gates. The garden lights illuminated giant pillars and marble walls, making it look more like a mausoleum than a home. As she stepped inside, the sound of her heels echoed on the vast marble floor, the only sound in a lobby as large as a cathedral. The air inside was cold and smelled of lilies and lemon polish—clean, luxurious, and utterly devoid of any homeliness.
A middle-aged maid in a stiff black-and-white uniform guided her up the grand, curving staircase. "Mr. and Mrs. Riels' chambers, Madam," she said politely, opening a set of double doors.
Elena's heart sank. The room was enormous, larger than half of any apartment she had ever lived in. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the dark garden. In the center of the room, an emperor-sized bed with perfectly ironed, ivory-white silk sheets stood like an altar for sacrifice. Through an open door, she could see a gigantic walk-in closet already filled with her clothes, and a marble bathroom with her toiletries already neatly arranged. Her life had been moved and organized here without her consent. She was well and truly trapped.
As soon as the maid left, the first thing Elena did was run to the door and lock it. The quiet 'click' felt like a fragile and futile defense. She leaned against the door, her heavy wedding gown now feeling suffocating, her breath coming in short gasps. What would happen now? What did he expect from her after the humiliation she had dealt him in front of everyone? He had married her, given her the Riels name. Tonight... would he come to claim his rights? The thought made her sick to her stomach.
A few minutes later, which felt like an eternity, she heard steady footsteps in the hallway. They stopped directly in front of her door. Elena held her breath, her body tensing like a wire.
Silence.
Then, there was a soft electronic 'beep', and the doorknob turned.
The door opened. Ethan had used his access card, as if Elena's flimsy lock was nothing but a joke to him.
Elena immediately backed away from the door, hugging herself. Ethan closed the door behind him, locking it from the inside. The second 'click' sounded far more menacing than the first. The man removed his bowtie, then his tuxedo jacket, placing them neatly on a sofa. Now, he wore only his white shirt, with the top two buttons undone. In the dim glow of the bedside lamp, he looked taller, more dangerous.
He looked at Elena, his expression unreadable. No anger. No lust. Just a cold calm that was somehow more terrifying.
Ethan walked slowly towards her, each of his steps measured. He stopped directly in front of Elena, so close she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His gaze was piercing, as if he could see straight into her frightened soul. Elena turned her face away, unable to meet his eyes.
"You're right, Elena," Ethan's voice was low and deep, almost a whisper. "This marriage is a contract."
Elena dared to look at him, confused by where this conversation was heading.
Ethan continued, his eyes never leaving hers. "And tonight, we will discuss my first term."