Chapter 4

Adrian’s POV

I watched her step into the living room, her damp hair cascading over her shoulders, the loose nightdress clinging delicately to her frame. She looked fragile, uncertain yet there was a quiet fire in her eyes that drew me in despite myself.

Silently, I picked up the box I had set aside earlier and held it out to her. “Wear this,” I said evenly. “We have a dinner to attend tonight.”

Her brows arched, confusion flickering across her face. But she took the box without protest, clutching it to her chest as though it were a lifeline.

She didn’t know. She couldn’t know. The marriage she’d been forced into wasn’t just a coincidence. I had chosen her. Not out of pity, not out of convenience no, this was revenge. Revenge against the woman who ruined my family, against the shadows that haunted my past.

But I wasn’t ready to tell her that. Not yet. Tonight, I would only reveal one truth the truth about who I was.

As soon as she disappeared upstairs to change, I pulled out my phone, my voice cold and commanding. “Bring the Maybach. We’re leaving for the penthouse. Make sure everything is ready.”

I ended the call and leaned back, my gaze lingering on the staircase where Elena had gone.

By the end of tonight, she would no longer see me as a poor nobody. She would see the man behind the disguise.

But whether she would forgive me for choosing her as part of my vengeance… that was another story.

My phone buzzed once in my palm. “The Maybach is ready,” my driver confirmed. I gave a clipped nod, ending the call.

Minutes later, Elena’s footsteps echoed on the staircase. When I turned, I froze. She wore the dress I’d chosen for her an elegant silk gown that hugged her curves, simple yet breathtaking. Her hair was loose, tumbling over her shoulders, her face glowing with a timid grace.

Her lips parted slightly as her eyes met mine. “You… you planned all this?” she whispered.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I extended a hand toward the door. “Come. We’re late.”

When she stepped outside, her breath hitched. Parked in front of the shabby little house was a sleek black Maybach, polished to perfection, with a driver in uniform waiting by the door.

She turned to me, her eyes wide with disbelief.

I only smirked faintly. “Didn’t anyone tell you, Elena? Appearances can be deceiving.”

****

The hum of the Maybach’s engine filled the silence between us as we slipped into the back seat. Elena kept fidgeting with the hem of her silk dress, her wide eyes darting from the polished leather seats to the tinted windows, as if every detail screamed a reality too grand to belong to me.

I leaned back, watching her from the corner of my eye. She hadn’t asked yet but the questions were already written across her face.

She finally whispered, “Adrian… who are you?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I allowed the city lights of Ravenwood to flash across her face, highlighting the awe and confusion battling inside her. She deserved answers but not all of them. Not yet. Tonight, she would see the wealth. The revenge… that would stay hidden in the shadows where it belonged.

The car slowed as we approached the towering gates of the Blackwood Estate’s penthouse residence. The doorman bowed low before opening the grand doors, and Elena’s lips parted in shock at the sight of marble floors glistening like water and chandeliers dripping crystal light.

Waiting at the top of the stairs was a woman whose presence commanded the room before she even spoke.

“Adrian,” she called, her voice steady, regal. “You finally brought her.”

Elena stiffened beside me as I placed a hand on her back, guiding her forward.

“Grandmother,” I said, my tone softening in a way it never did for anyone else. “We are here.”

Lady Margaret Blackwood’s sharp eyes flickered over Elena from head to toe, and then, surprisingly, a small smile tugged at her lips.

“Welcome, my dear,” she said. 

Elena’s voice trembled as she tried to break the silence. “E-excuse me, Lady Margaret,” she said softly, her fingers nervously twisting together. “Earlier today at the registrar’s office, why… why were you dressed in such old, worn-out clothes? You didn’t look like this at all.”

For a moment, the room went still. My grandmother’s sharp gaze darted to me, and I caught the flicker of disapproval in her eyes. She hadn’t expected Elena to ask so directly.

“Elena,” she said with a faint smile, her tone both gentle and calculated. “Sometimes, appearances deceive. Not everything you see is the truth.”

Elena tilted her head, confusion knitting her brows. “So… you were pretending?”

My grandmother’s eyes softened slightly as she studied Elena’s earnest face. “I needed to know what kind of woman my grandson was marrying,” she said. “If you had looked at me with disgust, if you had treated me with cruelty for appearing poor then I would have known your heart was not pure. But instead…” She paused, her lips curving in approval. “You showed patience. You showed respect.”

Elena’s cheeks flushed pink, and she looked down at her lap.

I clenched my jaw, watching silently. This was supposed to be my night to tell her the truth, but as always, Grandmother had taken control of the narrative.

And maybe… just maybe… it was better this way.

Dinner was served in a grand dining hall, a chandelier glittering above like a cascade of diamonds. Elena sat across from me, her eyes darting between the endless silverware and the crystal glasses that shimmered under the light. She looked utterly out of place, her simple dress clashing against the grandeur of the room.

I could see the nervousness in her gaze as she tried to keep up with the elegance surrounding her. My heart tightened. She had no idea what storm she had just walked into.

“Elena,” I finally said, my voice steady but weighted. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Her fork clattered softly against her plate as she looked up, startled. “W-what is it?”

I leaned back in my chair, folding my hands together. “The man you married today… the one you were told was nothing more than a poor nobody” I paused, watching her chest rise and fall quickly. “That was a lie. I am Adrian Blackwood, heir to the Blackwood Empire. CEO of the largest conglomerate in this country.”

Elena’s lips parted, her face paling. “You… you’re lying.”

My grandmother’s serene voice broke in. “He is not lying, child. Everything you see here, everything around you belongs to him.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Elena’s wide eyes flicked between us, her world shifting beneath her feet.

And then I whispered, almost too quietly, but enough for her to hear.

“But that’s only part of the truth, Elena. The real reason I married you… is something else entirely.”

Elena’s hands trembled on her lap as she tried to process my words. “CEO…? Blackwood…? But at the registrar at your home you…”

I gave her a faint, almost unreadable smile. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

Her brows knitted. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

I let my gaze drop to my untouched wine glass, swirling it slowly. “Because timing matters, Elena. And tonight felt like the right moment.”

My grandmother, Margaret, reached over and patted Elena’s hand gently. “He wanted you to see him for who he is, not for what he owns. That’s the kind of man my grandson is.”

Elena looked at me then, searching my face as if trying to read past the walls I had built. But no matter how hard she looked, she wouldn’t find the truth yet.

Because the truth would break her.

I raised my glass and met her eyes. “To new beginnings.”

She lifted hers hesitantly, still shaken, still trying to steady herself in the storm of revelations.

But as the glasses clinked softly in the glittering hall, I silently vowed.

One day, Elena. One day you’ll know why I truly chose you.

Her hand trembled as she set the glass down, her gaze never leaving mine.

I leaned back, studying the delicate confusion etched across her face the mix of awe, disbelief, and something else she couldn’t quite name.

“Rest tonight,” I said quietly, my tone final. “Tomorrow, your world will look very different.”

Elena swallowed hard, nodding slowly, though I could tell she had a thousand questions burning on her tongue.

I rose from the table, offering her my hand. The weight of her palm in mine was light, hesitant.

And in that moment, under the glittering chandelier, I knew this was only the beginning of her unraveling.