Irene Jones POV
I jumped to my feet, heart pounding at the sound of a voice that didn’t belong to the men already inside my apartment. “Young master.” They bowed in unison. I turned sharply to see who they meant. Albert stood at the doorway, pushing a wheelchair. In it sat a man in black, fine fabrics covering his frame, a mask hiding his face so completely I couldn’t see his eyes. “Who are you?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “Your husband. Theodore Myers.” Goosebumps broke across my skin. Even Cyril had never unsettled me like this. “Mrs. Myers.” Albert’s tone stayed calm. “I told you before—you needed to move to the mansion. But you ran away. That is why the young master came himself. The guards are here to transfer your belongings.” So they were all his guards. The air grew heavy around me. “I…” My throat closed. All I had ever heard was that Theodore was a cripple meant for Misha. And now here he was, masked and gloved, hidden under layers of dark clothing. Cold spread through me. “Mrs. Myers, it would be better if you come with us. The guards will handle everything,” Albert said. I blinked hard, trying to steady myself. “No. I will stay in my house.” At least my makeup held. It always did. I never left my face bare. No one saw the real me. “What did you say?” Theodore asked. He didn’t raise his tone or shift in his chair. He didn’t need to. The words froze me where I stood. “I said I’m staying here.” My voice sounded fragile, already breaking. Silence pressed in. Then Theodore tilted his head, a small shift of his hand against the armrest. The guards straightened. Albert stiffened. My stomach dropped. “You misunderstand, Mrs. Myers. You are not being asked.” Something inside me cracked. My body screamed to run, but I forced myself upright. “You can’t just force me.” The mask angled toward me. Even without seeing his eyes, I felt the weight of him. “You are my wife. You will live where I live.” The certainty of it struck harder than any shout. Albert gave a nod, and two guards walked into my bedroom. “No!” I lunged forward, but a guard blocked my path without touching me. My nails dug into my palms. “You can’t just take my things—” “They are not only yours anymore. Everything belongs to me now.” The statement knocked the air out of me. He didn’t just mean the apartment. He meant me. You can’t let them do this. Fight back. The thought tore through me, but my legs wouldn’t move. The guards carried out suitcases and boxes, stripping the place bare as if I had never lived there. Panic clawed at me, but I swallowed it down. Theodore sat motionless, yet it felt as though he saw every tremor in my body. Albert stepped closer, hands behind his back. “Mrs. Myers, it would be best if you cooperated. Young master is being patient… for now.” Patient. The word made my chest ache. “I didn’t agree to this,” I answered, my voice cracking. “I never agreed to any of it.” “You did. When you signed the marriage contract.” “I was forced—” The words burst out, but Theodore cut them short with a light tap of his gloved fingers. “Irrelevant.” The single word struck colder than a slap. My life, my choice—none of it mattered. The last guard came out of the bedroom, giving Albert a signal. “It is time, Mrs. Myers,” Albert said. I stumbled back, but the guards had already closed in. Theodore didn’t move, yet everyone obeyed him. Even me. Because I had no choice. The truth pressed down. I could fight and be dragged out, or I could walk out and keep a shred of dignity. My throat burned. Tears gathered, but I refused to let them fall. I turned. The guards stepped aside, leaving a path. My footsteps carried me out of the only home I had ever known. Behind me, Albert pushed the wheelchair forward, Theodore silent. For a moment, I almost pitied him. A cripple, mocked and ignored by his family. But he was worse. Or maybe it was simply the Myers way, no different from my own bloodline. Still, his authority left no doubt. I was the one suffering here. Nothing more. He never asked why I didn’t want to leave. He didn’t care. It had taken me years to escape the Jones mansion, and now I was being taken to another place, bound to a man who felt more like a jailer than a husband. “Stop.”Irene Jones POV “You think I give two fucks about that?” The words snapped out before I could stop them. This man really had the nerve to force me into this and still expected me to care about what he thought.I was on edge—who wouldn’t be? Trapped in a car at night with a man who was my husband only on paper, his face hidden behind a mask, his body wrapped up so tight he looked more like a shadow than a person.It was almost funny. Almost. The kind of funny that made my skin crawl if I thought about it too long.“This tongue of yours won’t lead you anywhere good.” Theodore’s chuckle came low, like he found the whole thing entertaining.The engine growled to life. A soft click followed, and the glass partition slid up, sealing the front from the back. It left me alone with him—and the kind of silence that pressed on my chest like a weight.“How about you let me stay in my apartment? Then my tongue won’t be such an issue, Mr. Myers,” I muttered, sarcasm biting at every word. “And if n
Irene Jones POV I sprinted outside, ignoring Albert’s warning. Hell, I’d rather beg on the streets than set foot in the Myers mansion—or anywhere I couldn’t predict what waited for me. Theodore might have been my husband, but only on paper. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to go anywhere.” I didn’t look back. Albert was still pushing Theodore’s wheelchair—I could hear it. “Mrs. Myers, you’re going to regret this.” His voice carried no urgency, no panic. I didn’t get far. A cluster of men in black appeared ahead, blocking the path. One glance was enough. Theodore’s guards. Fuck. Why the hell did he need this many? It wasn’t like he had come here for war. Or… had he expected me to run? “We don’t want to force you, Madam,” one of them said evenly. Hot-blooded as I was, I knew I couldn’t outrun men built like them. One stepped forward. I backed up instinctively, my toes skidding over gravel. My breath caught sharp, chest tightening. Another guard angled in from the side. They’re cl
Irene Jones POV I jumped to my feet, heart pounding at the sound of a voice that didn’t belong to the men already inside my apartment. “Young master.” They bowed in unison. I turned sharply to see who they meant. Albert stood at the doorway, pushing a wheelchair. In it sat a man in black, fine fabrics covering his frame, a mask hiding his face so completely I couldn’t see his eyes. “Who are you?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “Your husband. Theodore Myers.” Goosebumps broke across my skin. Even Cyril had never unsettled me like this. “Mrs. Myers.” Albert’s tone stayed calm. “I told you before—you needed to move to the mansion. But you ran away. That is why the young master came himself. The guards are here to transfer your belongings.” So they were all his guards. The air grew heavy around me. “I…” My throat closed. All I had ever heard was that Theodore was a cripple meant for Misha. And now here he was, masked and gloved, hidden under layers of dark clothin
Irene Jones POV “No thanks.” I stared him down, heat crawling up my chest. How the fuck could he dare congratulate me—now, of all times? Screw the whole Myers family. Screw the Jones family too. “We’re going. I need to take you to the Myers mansion.” He snatched the papers from my hands as if the right belonged to him. Somehow, he managed to be both polite and rude at once—probably because even he knew I was nothing but a substitute. I rolled my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m going back to my apartment.” He started to reply, but I turned and walked away before he could speak. Life couldn’t be this cruel. I needed air, needed space. Trapped in this marriage or not, I wasn’t chaining myself to the Myers estate. I’d already fought my way out of the Jones mess for a sliver of freedom in my own apartment, and only my dead body was going back into that cage. Sometimes I wondered—if my mom hadn’t married Leo Jones, would it have changed anything? Who was I kidding? She would’ve tre
Irene Jones POV “Why should I leave you?” Did he really just ask that? I didn’t even know this man, and he was far too close. “I should be asking why the hell you’re doing this. What’s wrong with you?” “Because I want to sleep with you.” His smirk deepened as though the words were meant to amuse him. My heart twisted, my soul ready to abandon my body altogether. The audacity of this man belonged in a textbook. “I’m your brother’s bride. How can you even talk like this?” I shoved at his chest, but he caught my wrists mid-motion and pressed them above my head, his strength suffocating in its ease. Pain jolted across my spine as my body arched away from him. His lips curled, pleased by my discomfort. “Yet to be a bride. And a substitute for that.” The back of his knuckles skimmed my jaw with deliberate lightness, a mockery of tenderness. “And what’s the problem in sleeping with a handsome man like me? A man who has more value than my disabled cousin?” The words landed harder than
Irene Jones POV My heart pounded, words catching in my throat. “Yes?” “Miss, the Young Master would like to meet you.” The man gave a slight bow, his tone firm but formal. “I’m Albert, his bodyguard. I’ve been sent to escort you.” For a moment, I stood frozen. “Are you coming, Miss Jones?” His voice remained calm, though something in it pressed for an answer. The question snapped me back. I nodded, mute, my body moving before my mind caught up. The gown clung too tight, too heavy, as if it knew I didn’t belong. Each step felt like peeling away pieces of the woman I was never allowed to be. I wanted to stop him, to demand answers—Why? What’s happening? But the words never formed. My throat locked. I didn’t know this man. I couldn’t trust him. And worst of all, I had the sinking feeling that trust wouldn’t matter here. The double doors opened. Outside, a sleek black SUV waited at the curb, engine humming low, its windows darkened to hide what waited inside. Albert gestured to it.