Chapter two: The mansion

The mansion loomed like a fortress as the black Mercedes rolled to a stop. Vanessa pressed her hands together, her palms clammy despite the cool air. Marble columns towered above the wrought-iron gates, and lights spilled across the perfectly trimmed lawns.

She had never seen such wealth up close. It was dazzling, and suffocating.

“Get out,” Alexander’s deep voice cut through her thoughts.

Vanessa swallowed, gathering her handbag as the driver opened her door. The moment her feet touched the stone driveway, she felt like an intruder trespassing where she didn’t belong.

Inside, the house was a palace. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead, and the scent of roses filled the vast hall. Servants bowed as Alexander strode past them without a word. His presence filled every inch of the mansion, cold and commanding.

“Your room is upstairs,” he said without slowing down. “The second door on the left. You’ll stay there.”

Vanessa frowned. “Not…with you?”

He halted, turning just enough to pin her with his dark eyes. “This marriage is a contract, not a fairytale. Don’t mistake it for anything else.”

Her chest tightened, but she lifted her chin. “You don’t have to remind me. I didn’t ask for this.”

Something flickered across his face, but he masked it with a cold smirk. “Good. Then we understand each other.”

Her room was larger than her entire apartment. The king-sized bed was draped in white silk sheets, a balcony overlooked the city, and a closet bigger than her kitchen stood waiting.

Vanessa dropped her handbag on the bed and sank into the mattress, her body sinking into softness that felt alien. She should have been relieved her mother would get the surgery, her debts would be covered, but all she felt was trapped.

Three years.

Three years of living under the same roof as a man who saw her as nothing but a business deal.

Her stomach twisted.

Later that evening, a knock sounded at her door. Before she could respond, the door swung open. Alexander stood in the doorway, his tie loosened, his gaze sharp.

“We need to establish rules,” he said, stepping inside.

Vanessa folded her arms. “Rules?”

“Yes.” His voice was flat, businesslike. “Rule one: You don’t interfere with my work or my personal life. Rule two: You don’t speak to the press. Rule three: You don’t expect affection from me. This is a transaction. Keep that in mind.”

Her blood heated. “Affection? Do you think I want your affection? You dragged me into this!”

His jaw tightened, but his tone stayed icy. “You signed the contract willingly.”

“Because you cornered me with no choice!” she shot back. “Don’t act like you’re doing me a favor.”

His eyes narrowed, glinting like steel. For a heartbeat, the air between them crackled with tension, anger, defiance, something unspoken.

Finally, he leaned closer, his voice dropping. “Then consider this your choice, Vanessa Carmichael . You wanted money. I wanted a wife. Play your role, and we’ll both get what we need.”

Her heart thudded painfully. He was so close, his cologne invading her senses, his presence overwhelming. She refused to back down.

“Fine,” she whispered, meeting his gaze. “But don’t expect me to be silent forever.”

A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. “I don’t expect silence. I expect obedience.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and left, the echo of his footsteps fading down the hall.

Vanessa closed the door with trembling hands. Anger, fear, and something she couldn’t name churned in her chest. She had agreed to this marriage for survival, but already it felt like walking into a cage built of glass and gold.

She sank onto the bed, her fists tight.

“If he thinks I’ll let him control me,” she muttered to herself, “he’s wrong.”

But deep down, she wasn’t sure if she believed it.