Chapter Three: Lines that shouldn't be crossed

Amara woke to a house that did not feel like hers.

The guest room was too perfect—neatly made bed, pale curtains, faint scent of expensive wood polish. Nothing here carried warmth. Nothing here welcomed her. She lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling, letting the truth settle again.

She was married.

To Lucas Harrington.

A man who had never wanted her.

Amara pushed herself out of bed and slipped on a robe. Her suitcase sat unopened in the corner, a reminder that she was still living out of borrowed space. Last night had been too heavy for unpacking. This morning felt worse.

As she stepped into the hallway, soft voices drifted upward from downstairs.

Her steps slowed.

She recognized Lucas’s voice immediately—low, controlled, familiar in a way that already hurt. The second voice was female. Confident. Close.

Amara hesitated, then moved toward the staircase.

At the bottom stood Lucas Harrington, dressed in tailored black trousers and a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled back as though this were an ordinary morning. Beside him stood a woman tall enough to match him eye to eye, her posture relaxed, her presence unmistakably intimate.

The woman laughed quietly. “You rushed the wedding,” she said. “You didn’t even give me time to explain.”

Lucas’s expression remained tight. “There was nothing to explain.”

“Oh?” The woman tilted her head. “Then why am I here?”

Lucas didn’t answer.

The woman’s gaze shifted—and locked onto Amara.

Her smile faded into something sharper. More deliberate.

“So this is her,” the woman said calmly.

Amara’s fingers tightened against the railing.

Lucas turned. The moment he saw Amara, something hardened in his eyes. “You’re awake.”

“Yes,” Amara replied, surprised by how steady her voice sounded. “Clearly.”

The woman studied her openly. “You’re younger than I expected.”

“I’m old enough to be his wife,” Amara said.

The words tasted strange, but she didn’t take them back.

A flicker of irritation crossed Lucas’s face.

The woman extended her hand. “Selene Grant. Lucas’s longtime associate.”

The pause before associate was unmistakable.

Amara did not take the hand. “Amara Harrington.”

Silence followed.

Selene smiled slowly. “Of course you are.”

Lucas stepped between them. “Selene, this isn’t appropriate.”

“Neither was replacing me without a conversation,” Selene replied coolly. “But here we are.”

Amara felt like an object being discussed, not a person standing in the room.

“I’ll give you privacy,” Selene said, brushing past Amara. “For now.”

Her heels echoed against the marble floor until the door closed behind her.

Amara released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Who is she?” she asked.

Lucas didn’t respond right away. He walked toward the kitchen, poured himself coffee, and leaned against the counter as if the conversation were an inconvenience.

“She’s part of my past,” he said.

“That didn’t sound like the past.”

Lucas’s jaw tightened. “You’re not entitled to explanations.”

Amara met his gaze. “I didn’t ask for your secrets. I asked for respect.”

Something flickered in his eyes—brief, unreadable—then vanished.

“You agreed to terms,” he said. “This marriage exists for appearances and protection. Nothing else.”

“And humiliation?” she asked quietly. “Is that included?”

Lucas looked away.

“Rules,” he continued. “You don’t interfere with my business. You don’t question my associations. And you don’t expect affection.”

Amara nodded slowly. “Then what do I get?”

“Security,” he replied. “Your family is safe. Your future is protected.”

“At what cost?” she asked.

Lucas’s phone vibrated on the counter. He glanced at the screen, his expression darkening.

“Get dressed,” he said. “We’re attending a luncheon.”

“Already?” Amara asked.

“Yes,” he said flatly. “If you’re going to wear my name, you’ll learn how to carry it.”

He walked out of the room.

Amara’s gaze dropped to the phone he’d left behind.

The screen lit up again.

Selene: She doesn’t belong in your world. Fix this before it becomes a problem.

Amara’s heart clenched.

Because in that moment, she understood something clearly for the first time—

She wasn’t just unwanted.

She was in the way.

And in Lucas Harrington’s world, that could be dangerous.