The words were spoken in an incredibly low volume, but for Elena, the impact felt like a bomb blast that left the entire room trembling and silent.
I wasn't aware you lived here now.
It wasn't a question. It was a territorial declaration. A boundary line that had just been drawn in permanent ink across the map of her world.
Elena's breath caught in her throat. A familiar, hot anger coursed through her veins. How dare he? How dare Ethan, the man who had been nearly invisible in his own world, the man she had regarded as a passive shadow, speak to Nathan—to her sun—in such a tone? A tone that implied Nathan was an intruder.
She opened her mouth, ready to launch a sharp defense for Nathan, ready to start their first war on the first day of their marriage. But before a single word could escape her lips, she saw something that silenced her.
Nathan, her ever-confident and charming hero, whose music was the very beat of her heart, looked... small. His smile had vanished, replaced by a painfully awkward expression. He didn't dare meet his brother's eyes. Instead, he stared down at his laptop, as if the device could serve as a shield. The sight was so jarring it left Elena confused. The man she had idolized for so long looked like a scolded child.
"Ah, no, bro. Of course not," Nathan finally spoke, his voice stuttering slightly, stripped of all its usual confidence. "I just... stopped by for a second to show Elena the new arrangement. I happened to wake up early."
Elena waited for Ethan to argue, to shout, or to show any signs of childish jealousy. That kind of reaction she could fight, could belittle. But the man simply remained silent, watching his brother with a terrifying calm. He picked up a piece of toast from his plate, spreading jam on it with slow, deliberate, and calculated movements.
"At seven in the morning?" Ethan finally responded, his voice still flat, devoid of emotion. "You're quite the early bird. But as you can see, Elena and I are about to have breakfast. We have an agreement."
An agreement.
The word stabbed Elena like an icy dagger. Ethan was using their "term of marriage"—a term that last night had seemed odd and harmless—as a weapon against her. To drive Nathan from her side. This wasn't just breakfast. This was a cruel assertion of power.
Nathan looked increasingly uncomfortable under Ethan's cold gaze. He quickly closed his laptop. "Right, of course. I get it. I didn't mean to interrupt." He stood up, avoiding Elena's gaze, which was now filled with unspoken disappointment. "I... I'll get going. We'll talk later, El."
And just like that, Nathan was gone. It was almost like he was fleeing a battlefield before the war had even begun.
Leaving Elena all alone with the man who had caused all of this.
The silence Nathan left behind felt a hundred times heavier. The quiet clink of Ethan's fork against his porcelain plate sounded like a death knell in Elena's ears. She didn't dare move. Her earlier anger was now mixed with a strange, unidentifiable feeling. A sense of shock.
She looked at the man at the end of the table. He was still the same man as yesterday. The same brown hair, the same expensive homewear, the same handsome face. But his voice... the voice he had just used was that of a stranger.
Calm, deep, and wielding absolute control without ever needing to raise it.
For the first time since she had known Ethan Riels, Elena felt a little... afraid.
She stared at her husband, the cold man she thought she had completely figured out, and one question spun in her mind, refusing to leave.
Who was this man, really?