Chapter four: The woman from his past

I didn’t sleep that night.

Vanessa’s voice echoed in my head long after the mansion fell silent.

Lucas doesn’t protect people out of kindness.

I stared at the ceiling, replaying the way Lucas had defended me at the gala—his firm voice, the possessive grip on my waist, the dangerous smile that silenced the room.

It had felt real.

And that was the problem.

I rolled out of bed just as the sun began to rise, my chest tight with emotions I refused to name. This house was too quiet, too big, too lonely. Every step reminded me that I didn’t belong here.

By the time I reached the dining room, Lucas was already there.

He sat at the table in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up, coffee untouched beside him. He looked up as I entered, his gaze sharp and assessing.

“You’re up early,” he said.

“So are you.”

“I always am.”

I took a seat across from him, the long table once again emphasizing the distance between us.

“Vanessa works with one of my subsidiaries,” he said suddenly.

I froze. “I didn’t ask.”

“But you were thinking about her,” he replied coolly.

I met his eyes. “She warned me about you.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “She had no right.”

“So it’s true?” I asked quietly. “You were involved.”

“Past tense,” he said firmly. “Long before you.”

That shouldn’t have bothered me.

But it did.

Before I could respond, Mrs. Collins hurried into the room, her expression tense.

“Sir,” she said, lowering her voice. “There’s something you should see.”

She handed Lucas a tablet.

His expression darkened as he read.

“What is it?” I asked.

He turned the screen toward me.

My breath caught.

The headline blared across the screen in bold letters:

BLACKWOOD’S MYSTERY BRIDE: PAID WIFE OR POOR GIRL’S LUCK?

Below it were photos of me—leaving the charity gala, stepping out of the car, even walking into the mansion.

My hands began to shake.

“They dug into your background,” Lucas said quietly. “Your father’s debt. Your old apartment. Everything.”

I swallowed hard. “And?”

“And someone tipped them off,” he replied.

A knock echoed through the dining room.

Before either of us could respond, the door opened.

Vanessa walked in like she owned the place.

She wore sunglasses and confidence, her red lips curved in a knowing smile.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said smoothly.

Lucas stood instantly. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh, relax,” she replied, removing her glasses. “I just came to check on your wife.”

My chest tightened.

“You did this,” I said, standing. “Didn’t you?”

Vanessa tilted her head. “I warned you. This world eats girls like you alive.”

Lucas’s voice dropped dangerously low. “Get out.”

She laughed softly. “You’re angry because I exposed the truth?”

“What truth?” I snapped.

“That you’re temporary,” Vanessa said calmly. “A contract. A convenience. A replacement.”

Silence fell like a blade.

I turned to Lucas. “Is that true?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

And that hesitation broke something inside me.

“I asked you something,” I said, my voice trembling.

“Yes,” he said finally. “It’s a contract.”

The word burned.

Vanessa smiled in victory. “See?”

My chest tightened painfully. “Then why didn’t you deny it to the press?”

“Because it wasn’t their business,” Lucas replied.

“But it was mine,” I whispered.

Vanessa stepped closer to me. “You think he defended you because he cared? He did it because his image matters more than anything.”

“Enough,” Lucas snapped. “Leave. Now.”

Vanessa glanced between us, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes.

“I give it three months,” she said lightly. “Before you realize you were never his choice.”

She walked out without another word.

The silence she left behind was deafening.

“I didn’t know she would do that,” Lucas said.

“But you knew it was possible,” I replied.

“I protected you,” he argued.

“From the world,” I shot back. “But not from you.”

I turned away, my vision blurring with tears I refused to shed.

“You said you didn’t love me,” Lucas said quietly. “So why does this matter?”

I spun around. “Because you made me believe—just for a moment—that I wasn’t disposable.”

Something raw flashed across his face.

“You’re not,” he said firmly.

“Then what am I?” I demanded.

He stepped closer, his voice low. “You’re my wife.”

“On paper,” I whispered.

He reached for me, then stopped himself.

“This marriage protects you,” he said. “It gives you security.”

“I didn’t ask for protection,” I replied. “I asked for honesty.”

His silence was answer enough.

That night, I packed a small bag.

I didn’t know where I was going—only that I couldn’t stay in a house where I felt invisible.

As I stepped into the hallway, Lucas appeared at the end of it.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Somewhere I can breathe,” I replied.

“You can’t leave,” he said.

“Watch me.”

I brushed past him, my heart racing.

“Amara,” he called.

I stopped but didn’t turn.

“This world will destroy you without me,” he said quietly.

I laughed bitterly. “Maybe. But staying might destroy me faster.”

As I walked away, one thought echoed in my mind.

Falling in love with Lucas Blackwood was never part of the contract.

And yet, somehow…

It was already happening.