CHAPTER 3: SILENCE BETWEEN US

The elevator ride to the penthouse was silent, except for the soft classical music piped through the gold-trimmed walls. Eva stood beside her husband, now bound to a man whose gaze hadn’t softened since the altar.

The doors opened to a breathtaking suite crystal chandeliers glittered like stardust, velvet drapes spilled onto marble floors, and fresh orchids scented the air. The king-sized bed was adorned with embroidered pillows and folded robes monogrammed with their initials.

 J & E 

 and a private butler waiting discreetly outside the door. She blinked at the embroidery, a surreal reminder that this was real now.

 

The newlyweds stood in the center of it all, two strangers draped in elegance and silence. Jeremi loosened his tie and shrugged off his jacket. “Make yourself at home,” he said coolly, as though offering hospitality to a stranger.

And just immediately there was a polite knock, 

 " Come in." Jeremi commanded It was a woman elegantly dressed in a black-and-cream uniform, hair tightly slicked back, lips pursed in professional stillness.

 “Ma’am,” she said with a slight bow. “Mrs. Moretti I am here to prepare you for the night.”

 Eva blinked. Prepare? Mrs?

The maid’s heels echoed on the marble as she walked toward the dressing area. “This way, please.”

 Eva followed, her bare feet making no sound on the cold, polished floor. Every step toward the unknown made her shoulders stiffen.

Then the maid opened a door and Eva gasped.

 The bathroom was colossal. Bigger than her entire room at the convent.

 Marble floors swirled with gold veins, a freestanding tub like a carved pearl sat at the center, flanked by two golden swan taps. A chandelier hung like a star over the space. Walls lined with soft robes, glass shelves of curated perfumes, glowing mirrors that lit up at her presence.

 “Your bath will be drawn now,” the maid said, reaching for scented oils and thick towels.

 “No!” Eva said, louder than she meant to. She flushed immediately. “I mean I’ll do it myself. Please.”

 The maid paused, slightly surprised.

 Jeremi, appeared in the bathroom doorway. He took one look at Eva and nodded once to the maid.

 “Leave her,” he said.

 The maid bowed without a word and stepped out.

 Jeremi’s voice was low and cool. “You don’t have to fear anyone here. But if you need help, you’ll ask. Understood?”

 Eva nodded quickly, eyes lowered. “Yes… thank you.”

 He studied her for a moment, almost curiously, then turned and left.

The bathroom door shut quietly behind him.

 

Eva’s came out few minutes later changed into a silk nightgown the color of moonlight. It hugged her like a second skin, far too revealing for someone who had once taken a vow of chastity. She stood still like a ghost, her back to Jeremi, staring out over the glowing New York skyline.

 Jeremi had already shed his tuxedo jacket and was pouring a drink. “Whiskey?”

 She shook her head.

 “You’ll need it,” he said, almost teasing but not quite.

 A long pause followed.

 He walked toward her, glass in hand, stopping inches away. She could feel his presence like static in the air. He didn’t touch her. He just watched her reflection in the glass, searching.

 “You haven’t said much,” he said finally.

“There isn’t much to say.”

“You just married the most eligible bachelor in New York,” he said with a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be… I don’t know, glowing or something?”

Eva turned, slowly. Her expression soft but guarded. “Shouldn’t you be?”

 That made him pause. He chuckled under his breath, then set the glass down with a sharp clink.

 “I married you for the legacy,” he said plainly. “You married me for the money. So let’s not pretend this is anything else.”

 Her heart clenched at the cruelty of it. But she didn’t flinch. “Fine.”

 Another silence.

He moved to the sofa and sat down, removing his watch, his shoes, his mask. He looked almost human tired, powerful, yet strangely alone.

 She turned slowly toward the window, the city sparkling below her like a sea of sins. She pressed her palm to the glass.

 “I suppose this is the part where I pretend to seduce you,” she said softly, bitterly.

Jeremi glanced at her with tired amusement. “You don’t have to pretend. I’m not interested in pretending either. Our roles are clear.”

 A knock broke the tension.

 Jeremi scowled. “Ignore it.”

 Another knock louder, firmer.

He strode to the door and opened it sharply. Two of his personal security officers stood outside, their faces grave.

“What is it?” he snapped.

“Sir, there’s been a breach at the TechCore warehouse in Brooklyn. We believe it’s an inside leak. You need to see this.”

 Jeremi’s nostrils flared. “Now?”

“It’s urgent.”

 Jeremi cursed under his breath. “You couldn’t wait an hour? A night? Are you that incompetent?”

 “Sir—”

“Get the car ready,” he barked, grabbing his phone off the dresser. He turned to Eva as he buttoned up his shirt again.

 “I’ll be back. Don’t wait up.”

 He left without another word, the door slamming hard behind him. Alone in Silk and Silence

 Eva stood still for a long moment.

The silence he left behind was so complete, it screamed. She walked toward the bed and sat at the edge, her fingers twisting the ring on her finger until it left a mark.

 Her eyes welled. She blinked fast, trying to swallow the ache, but her throat burned.

 This wasn’t how she imagined her first night in the world again away from the stillness of the convent, away from the prayers, the gardens, the chapel bells at dawn.

Instead, she was here, alone in a palace of glass, married to a man who hadn’t even looked her in the eye all evening.

 She curled up on the side of the bed, knees to chest, heart hollow. Her mind betrayed her memories flooding in:

 Sister Bernice’s warm hands on her cheeks the day she took her vows, whispering, “You are His now.”

 The echo of hymns in the chapel. Her hands in the soil of the garden, tending to the lilies as if each one were a prayer.

The peace of dawns with no makeup, no headlines, no fear. Tears slid down her cheeks silently.

 How had it all changed in a matter of days?

 How had she gone from kneeling at the altar of God... to kissing the ring of a man whose heart was as closed off as the vaults he built?

 She pulled the covers around her body, her rosary beads hidden in the folds of her suitcase, somewhere in the dressing room. She hadn’t touched them since her sister’s death. Since the deception began.

She whispered a prayer through her tears.

 “Forgive me, Father… for stepping into a world where I do not belong.”

And the only answer was the wind outside the window, brushing against the glass like a ghost trying to come home.