Chapter 2 — The Blackwood Mansion

The car continued through the city while I stared at the endless notifications on my phone.

I couldn't believe how quickly everything had changed.

Only a few hours ago, I was worried about losing my family's home.

Now, my face was everywhere.

News websites were publishing photographs of me.

Social media was filled with questions about who I was.

Some people were curious.

Others were already judging me.

I locked my phone and sighed.

“I hate this.”

Alexander glanced at me from the other side of the car.

“You'll get used to it.”

I gave him an annoyed look.

“That's supposed to make me feel better?”

“No.”

“Then why say it?”

“Because it's true.”

I crossed my arms.

“You're really bad at comforting people.”

“I've been told that before.”

I looked at him.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then I noticed something strange.

He was smiling.

Just slightly.

“You're smiling,” I said.

His expression immediately returned to normal.

“No, I'm not.”

“You were.”

“You imagined it.”

“I didn't.”

He looked out the window.

I couldn't help smiling.

Maybe the cold CEO wasn't as emotionless as everyone claimed.

The car eventually turned through a large iron gate.

I looked outside.

My eyes widened.

A massive mansion stood in the middle of beautifully landscaped gardens.

“Where are we?”

“My house.”

I stared at him.

“You live here?”

“Yes.”

“This is a house?”

He glanced at me.

“What else would you call it?”

“A palace.”

He almost smiled again.

The car stopped in front of the entrance.

A housekeeper opened the door.

“Welcome home, Mr. Blackwood.”

Alexander stepped out and extended his hand toward me.

I hesitated before taking it.

The moment I stepped outside, I felt incredibly small.

The mansion was enormous.

Tall windows reflected the evening sky, and several elegant lamps illuminated the entrance.

I followed Alexander inside.

The interior was even more impressive.

Marble floors.

Expensive paintings.

A huge staircase.

Everything looked perfect.

Too perfect.

A woman in her fifties approached us.

“Mr. Blackwood.”

Alexander nodded.

“Mrs. Wilson, this is Emma.”

The woman looked at me.

Then her face brightened.

“Mrs. Blackwood.”

I nearly choked.

“Please, just Emma.”

She smiled.

“Of course, ma'am.”

I looked at Alexander.

He seemed amused.

“You're enjoying this.”

“A little.”

I gave him a look.

“Very funny.”

Alexander turned toward Mrs. Wilson.

“Prepare the guest room.”

She looked confused.

“Guest room?”

“Yes.”

I immediately spoke.

“Actually, I can stay somewhere else.”

Alexander looked at me.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because the press is outside your house.”

I remembered the reporters.

He was right.

I sighed.

“Fine.”

Mrs. Wilson nodded and walked away.

Alexander turned toward me.

“Your room is upstairs.”

He led me up the staircase.

As we walked, I noticed several photographs displayed along the wall.

Alexander as a child.

Alexander with his parents.

Alexander with an older man who I assumed was his grandfather.

I stopped.

“Is that your family?”

Alexander looked at the photograph.

“Yes.”

“Your parents?”

“Yes.”

“What happened to them?”

His expression changed.

“They died when I was young.”

I immediately regretted asking.

“I'm sorry.”

He nodded.

“It's fine.”

But it clearly wasn't.

We continued walking.

He opened a door.

“This is your room.”

I stepped inside.

I couldn't believe my eyes.

The room was larger than our entire living room at home.

There was a huge bed, a walk-in closet, a private bathroom, and a balcony overlooking the city.

I turned toward him.

“This is too much.”

“It's a room.”

“It's bigger than my entire house.”

He shrugged.

“You'll get used to it.”

I sighed.

“You really like saying that.”

He gave me a small smile.

Then he turned to leave.

“Wait.”

He stopped.

“Where will you sleep?”

“My room is across the hall.”

I felt relieved.

“Good.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Were you expecting something else?”

“No!”

He smiled.

“Relax. I won't break the contract.”

He walked out.

I closed the door and leaned against it.

My heart was beating strangely fast.

Why did he always make me nervous?

I changed into comfortable clothes and sat on the edge of the bed.

My phone rang.

It was Lily.

“Emma!”

“Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

“I think so.”

“Where are you?”

I hesitated.

“Alexander's house.”

There was silence.

Then Lily screamed.

“You're WHAT?”

I pulled the phone away from my ear.

“Lily!”

“Sorry! But you're living with him already?”

“It's temporary.”

“Still! You're married to one of the richest men in the country!”

I laughed nervously.

“Don't remind me.”

“Are you sleeping in the same room?”

“No!”

“Good.”

I smiled.

“Why?”

“Because I don't trust that man.”

“Neither do I.”

A knock came at the door.

I looked toward it.

“I have to go.”

“Wait, Emma—”

I ended the call.

“Come in.”

The door opened.

Alexander stood there.

“Dinner is ready.”

“Okay.”

I followed him downstairs.

The dining room was enormous.

A long table stood in the center, but only two places were prepared.

I looked around.

“Just us?”

“Yes.”

We sat across from each other.

For several minutes, we ate in silence.

It was uncomfortable.

Finally, I spoke.

“Do you always eat this quietly?”

“Yes.”

“You're not very talkative.”

“No.”

I laughed.

“Why did I expect anything different?”

He looked at me.

“You talk enough for both of us.”

I stared at him.

“Was that an insult?”

“No.”

“Then what was it?”

“The truth.”

I smiled despite myself.

After dinner, Alexander's phone rang.

He answered.

“Yes, Grandfather?”

His expression immediately became serious.

“What?”

He listened.

“I understand.”

He ended the call.

I looked at him.

“What happened?”

“My grandfather wants to meet you.”

I froze.

“Tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He wants to see if our marriage is real.”

My stomach tightened.

“What do we do?”

Alexander stood.

“We go.”

---

Thirty minutes later, we arrived at the Blackwood family estate.

The mansion was even larger than Alexander's home.

I nervously fixed my dress as we walked toward the entrance.

“I'm nervous,” I whispered.

Alexander looked at me.

“Don't be.”

“Easy for you to say.”

He reached for my hand.

I looked down.

His fingers intertwined with mine.

“Just stay beside me.”

I nodded.

The doors opened.

An elderly man stood at the top of the stairs.

Silver hair.

Sharp eyes.

A commanding presence.

Alexander's grandfather.

Richard Blackwood.

His eyes immediately focused on me.

“So,” he said.

“This is the woman you married.”

I forced a smile.

“Yes, sir.”

Richard walked toward us.

He studied me carefully.

Then he looked at Alexander.

“You finally did something unexpected.”

Alexander remained calm.

“You wanted me married before my birthday.”

“I wanted you to find someone you loved.”

Silence filled the room.

Richard looked at me again.

“Do you love my grandson?”

My heart nearly stopped.

I glanced at Alexander.

He was watching me closely.

I knew what I had to say.

“Yes.”

Richard raised an eyebrow.

“You love him?”

I nodded.

“Very much.”

Alexander's eyes widened slightly.

Richard smiled.

“Interesting.”

He turned toward the dining room.

“Then you won't mind having dinner with us.”

I followed them.

But as we entered the dining room, I noticed something strange.

Richard wasn't looking at me like a grandfather meeting his grandson's new wife.

He was looking at me like he already knew something about me.

And somehow, I had a feeling that tonight was only the beginning.