Elsie James 의 작품

“Where do you think you’re going?” The question cut through the hall like a blade. I froze mid-step. Slowly, I turned around. Adrian Blackwood stood a few feet away, the man who conveniently ignored the woman in his house all night, his one hand resting casually on the back of a chair, the other holding a cup of coffee. I couldn't believe I had missed him coming down the stairs, my excitement probably had gotten the better of me. I cleared my throat, “I’m going to work,” I said, lifting my chin with a smile. “I got the job.” "hmm" hmm?, that's all he could say?, this arrogant man, making my excitement seem like nothing. "you haven't had breakfast" he reminded me like I wasn't aware of the emptyness in my stomach. "I know that, I'll have it when I get back" I turned sharply towards the door to walk out. "No" What?, did he just say "no"? I turned yet again, he was standing now, directly in front of me, his robe opening slightly, revealing his hard chest. That

“What?” I scoffed. No, I laughed. Aunt Claire? My aunt Claire? She was a sick woman. Frail in a way that made even breathing seem like effort. Barely stood on her own without support And I was supposed to believe she had sent Adrian Blackwood to me? “With all due respect,” I said, my laugh sharp and disbelieving, “do you hear yourself, Mr. Black?” He didn’t react. No smile. No nod. Just staring at me. That steady, unsettling stare, like I was a problem he’d already solved. “Adrian,” he corrected calmly. “We can’t afford anyone overhearing my wife calling me by my last name.” My breath hitched. Did he just- ignore everything I said? “You move in with me tonight,” he continued, already pushing his chair back. “Tonight?” I stood so fast the chair scraped loudly behind me. “My rent is paid. Six months in advance!” “Forget it.” Two words. Flat. Final. “Mrs. Black cannot be seen living in a tiny rented apartment,” he added, almost scoffing, as if the t

I stood in front of my full length mirror in my apartment, twisting and turning in front of it. The red gown fit like it had been waiting for me. It clung where it should, skimmed where it needed to, the fabric soft against my skin as if it knew my body better than I did. The neckline was modest, but the back dipped low enough to make my spine feel exposed. Elegant. Dangerous. Not something a woman wore by accident. I checked the time on my phone more often than I was used to, 5: 50pm. I was ready I paired gold accessories with the red dress, the smooth silk hugging me like a prison cell. The car that arrived wasn’t just expensive. It was intentional. Long, black, quiet in a way that swallowed sound, it pulled up to the curb exactly at six. The engine purred once and went still, like it was waiting for permission to breathe. Then the back door opened. “Good evening, Miss Elara.” I froze. The man standing there was tall, clean cut, dressed in charcoal gray tha

My stomach turned "Mrs?" I stood there for a long moment, staring at the black box like it might explode if I touched it, then I did, I took it, and it and got inside and collapsed on my bed, I had definitely had it today. My name sat on the tag in neat, deliberate print "Mrs. Elara Blackwood", the name was a lie, everything from this point onward was. I sighed, fingers brushing the edge before lifting the lid. Inside was velvet. Deep, rich red, folded with precision, the fabric smooth against my pale skin, light, A gown, not just beautiful, intentional, the gold specs almost illuminating the whole room, it was my size, I wasn't surprised at this point, it would hug every curve in my body, The kind of dress you didn’t wear to blend in. The kind that announced you before you spoke I exhaled shakily and closed the box. The gown felt heavier than it should have, like it carried expectations stitched into every seam. I pushed it aside and grabbed my jacket instead. If I s

"This is Rowan Cole speaking" I furrowed my brows, that name sounded awfully familiar, it landed in my mind softly, like a feather, I was certain I had heard it before, I just had to remember where. "Okay?" “I work for Mr. Blackwood ma'am” That did it. My shoulders tensed instantly, and it finally clicked, Rowan, the apparently hot assistant Mila was fangirling over. "I hope you're having a good evening miss" His voice was smooth, and deep, almost as deep as Mr. blacks, but with a low hum at the back of his throat whenever he made a sound. "God damnit Elera, why're you comparing the two men". I snapped out of it and put on my tough front. “If this is about the contract,” I said, “I haven’t decided.” “I know,” Rowan replied easily. “That’s why I’m calling now instead of tomorrow.” If circumstances were normal, I would definitely shoot my shot at him on Mila's behalf, he sounded shit good. I started walking again, the gravel crunching under my shoes. “Then you’re w

“The Mr. Blackwood??!” Mila shrieked, blinking at me. “This bastard's even bigger than father!, he's been trying to get into his good books for years!" She stared at the folder like it might bite her. Café Rue hummed around us, spoons clinking, laughter rising and falling, This was our little spot, me and my best friend Mila, ever since college, we've always come here to "cool off" despite our differences in social status, she's always been by my side, and we've grown so close. I nodded once. “Yes Mila, Adrian Blackwood.” Mila let out a slow breath. “Okay. Wow. That’s… wow.” She leaned back against the plush seat, crossed her arms, then leaned forward again like she physically couldn’t stay still. “I leave you alone for one interview and you come back engaged to a billionaire sociopath?” “I’m not engaged.” “Marriage contract,” she corrected. “Which is as a matter of fact, worse.” "I didn't sign it though" We’d planned this meetup before my interview celebration