Chapter 4: Adrain's POV

Three years ago, everything began with a single night that I never wanted to remember.

Linda and I had argued before, but never like that. She was set on going to Russia to train further in ballet. She said she needed to chase her dreams, that she couldn’t let her talent rot just because I wanted her close. I thought she was being selfish. She thought I was controlling. The fight spiraled out of control until she stormed out, leaving me in a rage I couldn’t contain.

That night, I ended up at a bar. I drank more than I should have, trying to drown out the anger that still burned in my chest. The alcohol blurred my thoughts, dulled the edges of my pain, and soon everything became a haze. What I didn’t know was that someone had slipped something into my drink.

When I woke up the next morning, my head was pounding, my mouth dry, and there was warmth beside me.

I turned my head and froze.

She was there—Elena.

Her eyes were wide, filled with confusion and fear. She clutched the sheets tightly around herself, her body trembling as though she, too, had no idea what had happened. That was when I realized she hadn’t chosen to be here any more than I had. She was just as much a victim.

For a moment, guilt washed over me. I couldn’t stand seeing her like that. So I reached for my wallet, pulled out a check, and offered it to her. Money always solves problems. Money erases mistakes. That was what I’d been taught all my life.

But Elena didn’t even look at the check.

She quickly gathered her clothes, her hands shaking but steady enough to cover herself. Then, without a single word, she fled from the room. I can still see it—the way her hair swung behind her, the sound of her footsteps as she disappeared. For some reason, I couldn’t shake the unease that settled in my chest.

I tried to forget. I told myself it was just a mistake, an accident, something that would fade if I ignored it long enough. But three months later, the truth crashed back into my life.

Helen walked into my office with Elena trailing silently behind her. I can still remember the way Elena looked—small, fragile, her head bowed as if she didn’t even have the right to be there.

“She’s pregnant,” Helen said coldly, her eyes sharp. “I want you to marry her as soon as possible. Grandpa already knows, and I don’t want you to make things worse.”

The words slammed into me like a blow. Pregnant. Married. It felt like my life was being twisted into something I hadn’t chosen.

Before I could even form a response, Helen leaned against the desk, swinging her phone casually in her hand. She smiled, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “This phone has a video from that night. The media would likely pay a high price for it. I think, Adrain, you’ll make the right decision.”

Her tone left no room for doubt. They had me trapped.

I turned my eyes to Elena, searching for something—anger, desperation, anything. But she gave me nothing. She sat there like a puppet, silent and obedient, her head still bowed. She didn’t even defend herself. She didn’t even look at me.

In the end, I gave in.

We were married.

But from the very beginning, resentment grew in me. I told myself it was her fault, that she was the reason I’d been cornered. She never spoke up, never explained, never tried to fight for herself. She just lived quietly by my side, her presence like a shadow I couldn’t get rid of.

When she lost our first child in a sudden miscarriage, something broke in her completely. She retreated even further into silence, her melancholy clinging to her like a second skin. And I… I hated it. I hated the sadness in her eyes, hated the heaviness she carried around, hated how she reminded me of that night I wanted so desperately to forget.

At least, that was what I told myself.

But today… something shifted.

When Elena stood in my office, her voice wasn’t dull or lifeless. For the first time in years, she sounded different. Light. Cheerful. Almost teasing. Even though she knew I was ignoring her, even though she knew she was unwanted, she still spoke with a spark of vitality I hadn’t seen in a long time.

It unsettled me.

It made me remember the woman who once walked out of that hotel room without looking back. That silent strength, the quiet dignity I hadn’t understood before.

And then Eric appeared.

He caught her when she stumbled. His hand rested against her waist, steadying her, and she didn’t pull away.

The sight hit me harder than I expected.

Something sharp twisted in my chest, something hot and unpleasant. Jealousy. Rage. An instinct I didn’t want to name.

I didn’t even think before I spoke. The words came out harsh, cutting, meant to drive her away from him.

“She’s nobody.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I hated them. They were bitter, cruel, and yet I clung to them because admitting the truth—that I cared—was impossible.

I watched her walk away. Her steps were steady, her back straight, but I could see the tension in her shoulders. She didn’t turn back, not even once.

And yet, my eyes followed her until she disappeared from sight.

For years, I thought she was nothing but a burden, a mistake forced onto me. But as I stood there, watching her leave with dignity I hadn’t expected, I felt something I didn’t want to acknowledge.

I wasn’t indifferent.

I wasn’t unaffected.

For the first time, I realized that Elena's presence stirred something in me—something dangerous, something unfamiliar.

I told myself it was anger. That it was only jealousy at Eric’s touch, nothing more. But deep inside, I knew it was more complicated than that.

Because even though I called her a nobody, I couldn’t stop watching her.

And that truth unsettled me more than anything else ever had.