Chapter Five: House without welcome

The apartment felt colder than it had before.

Amara stood in the doorway of her room, suitcase finally open on the bed. She folded her clothes slowly, carefully, as though moving too fast might cause something inside her to break. Every sound echoed—fabric rustling, drawers closing—too loud in the silence Lucas had left behind.

The luncheon replayed in her mind, every glance and whispered word pressing against her chest. She hadn’t failed. She knew that. And yet she felt as though she had been measured and found lacking.

She closed the suitcase and sat on the edge of the bed, hands resting in her lap.

This was her life now.

Not a home.

Not a partnership.

A position.

Later that evening, the door to the apartment opened. Lucas returned without announcement, his footsteps controlled and deliberate. Amara heard him moving through the living space but didn’t leave her room.

A knock came at her door.

“Come in,” she said quietly.

Lucas stepped inside, jacket removed, sleeves rolled, exhaustion etched into the lines of his face. For the first time since their marriage, he looked human.

“We need to set boundaries,” he said.

Amara nodded. “I agree.”

He seemed surprised by her calm.

“This arrangement works only if there are rules,” Lucas continued. “No surprises. No emotional expectations.”

She met his gaze. “Then let’s be honest.”

Lucas folded his arms. “Go on.”

“I don’t want your affection,” Amara said steadily. “But I won’t accept disrespect.”

His expression tightened. “Respect is earned.”

“So is loyalty,” she replied.

Silence stretched between them.

Lucas exhaled slowly. “You’ll attend social events when required. You’ll stay out of my business dealings. And you won’t involve yourself with Selene.”

Amara’s jaw tightened. “She involved herself with me.”

“That won’t happen again,” he said flatly.

“And what about you?” Amara asked. “What do you owe me?”

Lucas hesitated. Just for a moment.

“Protection,” he said. “And privacy.”

“That’s not enough,” Amara replied softly.

Lucas’s eyes darkened. “This marriage was never meant to be fair.”

The words stung—but they were honest.

“Then I want one thing,” Amara said.

“What?”

“Freedom within these walls,” she said. “I won’t live like a guest in my own marriage.”

Lucas studied her, something unreadable shifting in his gaze. “You’re asking for control.”

“I’m asking for dignity.”

Another pause.

“Fine,” Lucas said. “But don’t confuse permission with power.”

That night, Amara lay awake long after the lights were turned off. She listened to the distant sounds of the city, her thoughts heavy. Somewhere in the apartment, Lucas was awake too—she was certain of it.

Near midnight, her phone vibrated.

An unknown number.

She hesitated before opening the message.

Unknown: You don’t belong with him.

Amara’s breath caught.

Another message followed immediately.

Unknown: Walk away before you get hurt.

Her fingers trembled as she stared at the screen.

She didn’t need to ask who it was from.

The past hadn’t just returned.

It had found her.

And this time, it wasn’t whispering.

It was warning her.