Elena's POV
Adrian's phone rings at exactly 6:00 PM Thursday evening.
I'm in my bedroom, my separate, lonely bedroom at the opposite end of the penthouse—when I hear his voice through the walls.
Uncle Marcus. What a surprise. His tone could freeze water.
I press my ear to the door.
Dinner? Tonight? Pause. That's rather sudden.
My stomach drops. We've been married less than 48 hours. We barely know each other. And now his family wants to meet me?
Seven o'clock. Yes, we'll be there. Adrian's footsteps approach my door.
I jump back just as he knocks.
Get dressed, he says through the wood. Something elegant. We're having dinner with my uncle.
What? I open the door. Adrian, I'm not ready
You don't have a choice. His face is carved from stone. Marcus is testing us. If we fail, I lose everything.
But what do I say? What do I do? I don't know anything about your family
Follow my lead. Don't contradict me. And for God's sake, act like you love me. He turns away. We leave in thirty minutes.
The door closes.
I stare at my closet, panic rising in my throat. Act like I love him? I barely know him. He screams in his sleep and won't let me help. He treats me like a business transaction one minute and his legal wife the next.
How am I supposed to convince his family we're in love?
The Blackwell mansion looms before us like something from a horror movie.
Stone walls. Gothic windows. A circular driveway with a fountain that probably costs more than most people's houses.
Breathe, Adrian says quietly as we walk to the door. You look terrified.
I am terrified.
Good. Fear keeps you sharp. He takes my hand. His grip is firm, possessive. Remember—we've been together six months. Secret relationship. You fell first. I was hesitant because of my situation, but you convinced me love was worth the risk.
That's a lot of backstory for thirty minutes' notice, I hiss.
Welcome to my family. His smile is bitter.
The door opens before we knock.
A butler, an actual butler, gestures us inside. The entry hall is massive, all marble and chandeliers and expensive art. Everything screams old money and power.
Adrian. A man's voice echoes from the dining room. So glad you could join us.
We enter, and I see him.
Marcus Blackwell.
He's shorter than Adrian but somehow takes up more space. Silver hair perfectly styled. Cold blue eyes that assess me like I'm merchandise. His smile doesn't reach those eyes.
Uncle Marcus. Adrian's hand tightens on mine. This is Elena. My wife.
Yes, I heard about your... sudden nuptials. Marcus's gaze travels over me slowly. Calculating. How fascinating. Adrian never mentioned he was seeing anyone.
We kept it private, I say, trying to sound confident.
Clearly. Marcus gestures to the dining table. Please, sit. Vivienne will join us shortly.
We take our seats. Adrian pulls out my chair, the gesture of a gentleman, but his shoulders are rigid with tension.
Footsteps click on marble. A woman enters, and my breath catches.
She's beautiful. Stunning, actually. Dark hair cascading over bare shoulders. A red dress that fits like it was painted on. But when she looks at me, her green eyes are pure ice.
Adrian. Her voice is honey and poison mixed. You got married. How... unexpected.
Vivienne. Adrian doesn't stand. Doesn't smile. This is Elena.
Vivienne's gaze cuts to me. For one second, I see naked hatred flash across her perfect face. Then she smiles.
How wonderful to meet you. She takes the seat across from me. Tell me everything. How did you two meet?
The question sounds innocent. It's not.
At a charity event, Adrian says smoothly. Six months ago. Elena was there representing her company.
Vivienne's eyes narrow. Six months? That's quite a whirlwind romance.
When you know, you know. Adrian's hand covers mine on the table. His thumb traces my knuckles, the gesture looks tender, but I feel the tension in his touch.
A warning. Be careful.
Marcus pours wine. Elena, what did you say you did for work?
I'm a financial analyst, I answer. Then remember, I was fired. I was. I recently left my position.
How convenient. Vivienne's smile sharpens. Right before marrying Adrian. Who suddenly needs to appear stable for the board hearing.
The accusation hangs in the air like smoke.
Vivienne, Marcus says mildly, but his eyes gleam. Don't be rude to our guest.
I'm simply curious. She tilts her head. Adrian, you've always been so careful about relationships. After what happened to Sylvaine
Adrian's hand crushes mine. Don't.
I'm just saying, it's sudden. Vivienne picks up her wine glass. One might even call it suspicious.
One might call it love, I snap before I can stop myself.
Everyone goes silent.
Vivienne stares at me. Marcus raises an eyebrow. Adrian's grip on my hand becomes painful.
But I'm tired of being pushed around. Tired of people questioning me. Derek didn't believe me. Steven destroyed me. I'm not letting this woman do the same.
Adrian and I fell in love, I continue, meeting Vivienne's cold gaze. I know it seems fast to outsiders. But when you find someone who sees you, really sees you, timing doesn't matter.
Adrian's thumb strokes my hand again. Gentler this time. Approval?
How romantic, Marcus says dryly. Though I must admit, Elena, your timing is rather convenient. Adrian needs a wife to challenge the board. You need, what exactly? Money? Status?
I need nothing. The lie flows easily. I have Adrian. That's enough.
Is it? Marcus leans forward. Because from where I sit, this looks like a desperate man making a desperate move. Adrian, you lost billions through incompetence. Now you're trying to manipulate your father's will clause with a fake marriage
It's not fake. Adrian's voice could cut glass. Elena is my wife. Legally, emotionally, in every way that matters.
Then you won't mind proving it. Marcus's smile is predatory. I'm sending an auditor to live in your penthouse. Starting tomorrow. To monitor your... stability.
My blood turns cold. Live with us?
Just for a few weeks. Patricia Werner, very thorough, very observant. She'll ensure Adrian is truly capable of running the company. Marcus sips his wine. Unless you have something to hide?
Adrian's face is a mask. Of course not.
Wonderful. Marcus stands. Dinner is served.
The meal is torture.
Three courses of expensive food I can barely taste. Vivienne asks invasive questions about our relationship. Marcus watches us with calculating eyes. And Adrian plays the devoted husband perfectly, touching my hand, finishing my sentences, smiling at me with false warmth.
By dessert, my head pounds.
You two seem very happy, Vivienne says softly. Too softly. I hope it lasts. Adrian's relationships have a habit of... ending badly.
What's that supposed to mean? I ask.
Nothing. Her smile is sweet venom. Just that Adrian's last girlfriend died in a tragic accident. But I'm sure you'll be fine.
The threat is clear.
Adrian's hand finds mine under the table. Squeezes hard.
We should go, he says, standing abruptly. Elena has an early morning.
Marcus walks us to the door. Such a pleasure meeting you, Elena. I'm sure we'll see much more of each other. After all, we're family now.
The way he says family makes my skin crawl.
The car ride home is silent.
Adrian stares out the window, jaw clenched. His hands are fists on his knees.
That went well, I try.
They know. His voice is flat. Marcus suspects the marriage is fake. That's why he's sending Patricia. She'll be watching us constantly. Looking for proof we're lying.
So what do we do?
He doesn't answer until we're back in the penthouse.
I head toward my bedroom. Need space. Need to breathe.
Elena. Adrian's voice stops me. We have a problem.
Just one?
He doesn't smile. The separate bedrooms won't work. If Patricia is living here, monitoring us, she'll notice. She'll report to Marcus that we don't share a room. That we're not really married.
My stomach drops. What are you saying?
Adrian meets my eyes. His expression is unreadable.
We have to share my room. Starting tonight. One bed. Make it look real. He pauses. Can you do that?
Share his bed. Sleep beside him. Pretend we're intimate.
The man who screams in his nightmares. Who treats me like a contract one minute and his wife the next.
Do I have a choice? I whisper.
No. At least he's honest. Pack your things. Move them into my room before morning. Patricia arrives at seven AM.
He walks away, leaving me standing in the hallway.
I return to my bedroom. Stare at the bed I've slept in for exactly two nights.
My phone buzzes.
Unknown number: Sharing a bedroom won't save you. Patricia Werner works for Marcus. She's not there to monitor—she's there to destroy. Sweet dreams, Mrs. Blackwell.
The message deletes itself.
My hands shake. Someone inside Marcus's circle is warning me. But who? And why?
I pack my clothes with trembling fingers.
Tonight, I'll sleep in Adrian Blackwell's bed.
Tomorrow, an enemy spy moves into our home.
And somewhere in the darkness, someone is watching.
Waiting for us to fail.