Chapter 3: The Name He Whispered

The elevator revealed the entrance of the penthouse. Celine looked around carefully. The place was something she had only seen in magazines and socialite blogs before.

“Welcome to your new home, Mrs. Austen,” Clara said as she held the elevator door open. She handed Celine a set of keys attached to a keyring.

Celine’s fingers touched the cool metal. “It’s very large,” she said quietly. Her voice showed too much tone of surprise. It seems so surreal.

“Yes,” Clara replied. “Mr. Austen expects you to move in today. He is upstairs. You will meet him shortly.” Celine felt uneasy and rolled her suitcase into the penthouse. She still doesn't have any ideas how her decisions will affect her future.

She entered the bedroom, placed her bag on the dresser, and noticed a notebook on top of it. The handwriting on the cover read: Rules of the House.

Before she could open it, a door from the living room opened. Duke Austen stood there, wearing a formal suit and looking serious.

“You’re early,” he said in a firm tone.

“I thought we would start today,” Celine answered.

“Yeah,” he said while looking at her carefully. “Then we can set the rules immediately.”

Celine blinked and asked, “Rules?” As her eyes darted on the notebook she just saw a while ago.

He walked closer and placed his hands on the back of the sofa. “You need to understand three things, Mrs. Austen,” he said in a clear voice, 'cause he really doesn't want any complications between them. “First, no media exposure. Second, no personal questions. Third, do not fall in love with me.”

Celine’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?” She almost laughed because of what she heard.

“Those are the rules,” he said calmly. “You will attend events when I require you to. You will behave properly in public. If you fail to follow the rules, there will be consequences.”

“Consequences?” she asked immediately, feeling nervous.

He raised an eyebrow. “I paid for your brother’s treatment. That is more than most people would do. In return, I expect respect and cooperation. Do you understand?”

Celine swallowed and looked down at the ring on her finger. It felt heavier than before, and she could no longer see it as a sign of affection.

“Yes,” she said softly.

“That's good then,” he said. He stepped closer, standing only a short distance away. “You may not understand now, but everything I do has a reason. Every rule has a purpose. Every action is part of the arrangement.” Celine nodded slowly. The room felt smaller, and she felt more tense.

He pointed toward the living room. “Your bedroom is ready. There are clothes in the wardrobe, all in simple and neutral colors. You will wear them when you attend public functions. You may place your personal items, but you cannot change anything else in the apartment.”

Celine followed him to the bedroom. The place looked clean and organized, but it really feels so different from the world she used to be in.

He turned to her again. “Do not mistake my rules as distrust. They exist to protect both of us. This agreement will only work if the limits are clear.”

“I understand,” she said quietly.

“Alright,” he said. “Clara will help you with dinner and house matters. She will also explain tomorrow’s press appearance. Do you have any questions?” Celine shook her head. She wanted to ask many questions, but she decided to stay quiet.

“Then I will leave you to settle in,” he said. “Dinner will be at eight. Be on time.”

“Yes,” she answered.

He paused before leaving. “Remember, no personal questions, Mrs. Austen. There are no exceptions.”

“Yes, Mr. Austen,” she said.

When he left, the apartment became silent. Celine stood still and tried to process everything. She realized that this place was not truly her home.

She sat on the edge of the bed, placed her suitcase beside her, and covered her face with her hands.

After some time, she unpacked her belongings. She placed a photo of her brother in a small frame and set a locket from her late mother on the table. The bedroom remained elegant, but it still did not feel like hers.

At seven forty-five, there was a knock on the door.

“Dinner,” Clara said softly while holding a tray. “Mr. Austen will be ready in fifteen minutes. Please wear the outfit prepared for you.”

Celine nodded and took the black silk dress from the hanger. She put it on and looked in the mirror. It fit her perfectly, but she felt different wearing it.

A few minutes later, Clara knocked again. “He is ready now,” she said.

Celine followed her to the dining area, where Duke stood near the balcony with his hands behind his back.

“Good evening,” she said simply.

“Good evening,” he replied.

They sat at the table and began to eat. Celine tried to start a shallow conversation by asking about work and business matters. Duke answered briefly while maintaining a formal tone.

After a while, he looked at her and said, “You are nervous.”

“I am still adjusting,” she replied.

“That's better for you. You must stay composed in public. People will pay attention to every detail,” he said.

“I can handle that,” she answered softly.

“I believe you can,” he said.

After dinner, Celine returned to her room and lay on the bed. She was tired and thought about everything that had happened.

As she was about to fall asleep, she heard a faint voice from the living room.

“Alexandra…” Her eyes opened immediately. It was Duke’s voice. She sat up and listened carefully. There was no other sound.

Celine stayed still and thought about what she had heard. The name repeated in her mind.

Duke Austen, the man she had just married through an agreement, was in the same apartment speaking another woman’s name.

Celine closed her eyes tightly and realized that her situation might be already complicated. She questioned herself.

Who was Alexandra?