Chapter 3

Elias

The first morning in the Vance estate felt like waking up inside a refrigerated vault.

I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. My father’s house had always felt lived-in—there were stacks of old magazines in the corner, the faint scent of his pipe tobacco in the drapes, and a warmth that didn't depend on the thermostat. Mother hated it

The Vance estate was different. It was a masterpiece of glass, steel, and silence. Everything was curated; every vase was positioned to the millimeter. I felt like a smudge on a clean window, a flaw in William’s perfect composition.

I finally dragged myself out of bed, pulling on a silk robe that felt too expensive for my skin. I needed coffee. I needed to move before the walls started closing in on me.

When I reached the kitchen, William was already there. He wasn’t in the stiff morning suit from yesterday, but even in a charcoal turtleneck and dark slacks, he looked terrifyingly put together.

He was leaning against the counter, a tablet in one hand and a black coffee in the other.

"You’re late," he said. He didn't look up from the screen. "Breakfast was served at seven. It’s now eight-thirty."

I stopped at the entrance, my hands shoved deep into my robe pockets. "I didn't realize I’d moved into a boarding school. Do I get a gold star if I manage to show up for lunch on time?"

William finally looked up. His dark eyes were cool, scanning me with precision that made me feel painfully underdressed.

"Structure is the only thing that keeps an estate of this size from collapsing, Elias. Your mother understands that and I'm assuming your father did as well.It’s time you caught up to the rhythm of this house."

"My father understood family," I snapped, moving toward the espresso machine.

I turned my back to him, focusing on the machine. The hiss of the steam filled the silence between us, sharp and aggressive. I could feel his gaze on the back of my neck, a physical weight that made my skin prickle.

"Family is just another structure, Elias," William’s voice was closer now, moving toward me. "And right now, yours is leaning. Your mother is exhausted, and your academic record is more of a liability. I’m here to ensure the foundation doesn't crack."

I spun around, the hot cup of espresso trembling in my hand. "Is that what this is? A construction site? Am I just a shaky pillar you need to reinforce so the neighbors don't see the rot?"

William stopped just inches away, invading my space with a terrifying lack of hesitation. "I’ve reviewed your transcript from the university. You have the intellect, but your attendance since the accident has been... erratic. That stops today. I’ve had the driver prepare the car. You’ll be at your ten o’clock lecture, and you’ll remain on campus until four."

"You don't get to schedule my life, William," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You’re my mother’s husband, not my warden. I’m twenty-four years old. I don't need a permission slip to breathe."

"At twenty-four, you are an adult in the eyes of the law, but a dependent in the eyes of the Vance-Thorne contract," William replied.

He reached out, his movements slow. He didn't grab me; instead, he reached for the lapel of my robe, his fingers straightening the silk with agonizing care. His thumb brushed against the pulse point in my neck, and for a second, my heart betrayed me, thudding violently against his skin.

He noticed. A shadow of a smirk played at the corner of his mouth.

"If you fail to maintain the 'standard of excellence' required by the inheritance, I have the authority to freeze your accounts. Every book you buy, every drink you order, every breath you take in this house is subject to my approval. Do you understand that or do I need to draw you a diagram?"

I felt a surge of hot, liquid rage. I wanted to shove him, to break that calm, aristocratic mask he wore. "You’re a monster."

"I’m an architect," William corrected, pulling back but keeping his eyes locked on mine. "I build things to last. And right now, I’m building your future. Be in the car in twenty minutes, dressed for the world you belong in. Or I’ll have the locks on your room changed before you get back. I’m sure your mother would hate to see you sleeping in the guest house."

He picked up his coffee and walked out, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor.

I stood in the kitchen, trembling. The silence returned, but it wasn't peaceful. It was heavy with the smell of his sandalwood cologne and the realization that I was trapped. I looked at the tablet he’d left on the counter. It was still open to a legal document—my father’s will, annotated with William’s sharp, digital handwriting.

I grabbed the tablet, my eyes blurring as I scanned the lines. Section 5.2: Inheritance Stability Act.

...any behavior deemed 'socially or legally destabilizing' by the primary executor shall result in the immediate escrow of all personal funds and assets belonging to the beneficiary…

I read it twice. Three times. William hadn't just married my mother; he had bought my leash.

I set the tablet back down, my mind racing. I wasn't going to play the grieving, broken son anymore. If William wanted me at school, I would go to school. I would be the perfect student. I would be so perfect, so stable,just like they want.

I went back to my room and dressed. I chose a suit that was almost a mockery of his—dark, sharp, and expensive. I spent ten minutes on my tie, making sure the knot was precise.

When I walked down the grand staircase, William was waiting in the foyer. He was checking his watch, his expression unreadable.

"Eighteen minutes," he noted, his voice sounding almost impressed. "Keep that up and we won't have any problem.”

"Don't get used to it," I said, walking past him toward the heavy front doors. "I’m only doing this because I want to see how long it takes for you to get bored of playing house."

"I don't get bored," William said, following me out. The black sedan was idling at the curb, the driver standing at attention.

"I get results. The car will be here at four. Don't make him wait."

I stopped at the car door, turning back to look at him. "Tell me, William. Did you actually want her? Or was my mother just the easiest person to mess with?"

William’s eyes darkened, the coldness in them deepening. He took a step toward me, his presence casting a long shadow over the gravel drive. "Your mother is a brilliant woman who deserves a partner who can match her ambition. I married her because I saw a structure worth saving."

"And what about me?" I challenged, my hand gripping the car door handle. "Why do you need to add me to your sickening game?"

William looked at me for a long, silent moment. The wind caught his hair, making him look less like a statue and more like a man. He reached out, his hand hovering near my shoulder for a heartbeat before he let it drop.

"You’re an…interesting project," he said thoughtfully.

I slid into the back of the car and slammed the door. As we pulled away, I watched him in the rearview mirror. He didn't move until the car turned the corner.

The drive to the university was a blur of gray highway and white noise. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

A text from Leo.

Leo: Heard the news. You’re actually going back today? Are you okay?

I stared at the screen. My father was dead. My mother was married. And I was being driven to school like a child in a gold-plated cage.

Elias: I’m fine. I’m just learning the rules of the house.

I put the phone away and looked out the window.

When the car pulled up to the university gates, the driver opened the door for me. I stepped out, feeling the weight of a hundred gazes.

To them, I was the tragic Thorne heir.

To William, I was a liability.

But as I walked toward the lecture hall, the same one where I had received that text three months ago, I felt a new kind of power. William wanted me to be an asset? I would be the most expensive asset he ever owned.

I would be so perfect that they wouldn't notice the imperfections I'd be slipping into their perfectly curated home.