Walls That Won't Break

Chapter 5: Walls That Won’t Break

The next morning, the penthouse was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning. The city outside was already awake, buzzing with life, but inside, I felt suspended in a different world—a world where every word and action was measured, where mistakes could be costly.

Adrian was already in the kitchen, meticulously preparing coffee. His movements were precise, almost mechanical. Watching him, I realized just how different our lives were. Mine had been a series of accidents and survival; his was a carefully constructed empire with rules that could not be bent.

“Good morning,” I said softly, trying not to startle him.

He didn’t look up immediately, just set a cup of coffee on the counter with a clink. “Good morning,” he replied evenly.

There was a pause, thick with the unspoken rules we were both trying to navigate.

“You’ll need to be at the office by ten,” he said finally, stirring his coffee. “Dress accordingly. Business attire. Neutral colors.”

I nodded, trying to keep my voice steady. “Understood.”

He glanced at me briefly, his eyes cold but assessing. “Amara, don’t misunderstand this arrangement. You’re here because it benefits us both. Don’t expect… anything else.”

I swallowed. I wasn’t sure if the tightness in my chest was fear or something else—something heavier.

“I understand,” I said.

He nodded once, decisively, before leaving the kitchen to check his schedule.

I stayed behind, staring at the steam rising from the coffee, my thoughts spinning. Understand? Did I really understand what I had agreed to?

As I got ready for the office, I noticed the way the penthouse seemed designed to remind me of my place. Everything was pristine, everything expensive, everything out of reach. It was beautiful, yes—but it wasn’t home.

By the time we arrived at the Blackwood Corporation headquarters, I was painfully aware of every pair of eyes on me. Adrian walked ahead, perfectly poised, leaving me a step behind. Every glance in my direction carried judgment—or curiosity. I couldn’t tell which.

At the boardroom, introductions were brief but pointed. I smiled, nodded, and answered questions politely, my heart hammering with each whispered comment. She’s young. He married her quickly. Will she last?

When the meeting finally ended, I felt both exhausted and exposed. Adrian walked me to the elevator in silence.

“You did well,” he said quietly as the doors closed. “Better than I expected.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, almost afraid to speak too loudly.

The elevator ride was long. His presence was overwhelming, silent, and somehow comforting at the same time. But as soon as we stepped out, the illusion returned. He was the untouchable billionaire, and I was the temporary solution he had chosen.

That night, I sat alone in the penthouse, the city lights twinkling below like distant stars I could never reach. I replayed the day in my mind, every smile, every glance, every word.

And then I realized something terrifying.

I was starting to notice him. Not just as my contract husband, but as a man—strong, guarded, and achingly human.

And if he saw even a hint of that in me, everything could change.

Because in this world of contracts and appearances, no one let walls fall.

Not even him.