Morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, soft and dishonest. It made everything look peaceful, as if this mansion didn't guard secrets like locked doors.
Elara stood before the tall mirror, adjusting the simple black dress that had been left for her. It fit perfectly, like the house was already learning her shape.
She touched the ring on her finger.
It was still there.
Still real.
A soft knock.
"Come in," she said.
A maid entered, head slightly bowed.
"Mr. Blackwood requests your presence in the breakfast hall, Mrs. Blackwood."
The title felt strange.
Mrs. Blackwood.
She followed the long corridor down, the sound of her steps echoing through painted walls and quiet security cameras.
The breakfast hall was bright with large windows.
Dominic was already there.
He stood near the windows, hands in his pockets, looking more like a storm held inside a man than a husband.
"You look well," he said as she approached.
She tilted her head slightly.
"I slept."
That seemed to satisfy him.
Before she could sit, another presence filled the room — sharp, calculated footsteps.
A man entered.
Marcus Hale.
Dominic's business partner.
Sharp smile. Watchful eyes.
"So," Marcus said, glancing at Elara openly, "this is the girl."
Elara stiffened.
Dominic's voice turned cold.
"She has a name."
Marcus lifted both hands. "Relax. Just curious. The rumors in the city are already blooming like poisonous roses."
Elara glanced sideways.
"Rumors?"
Dominic's jaw tightened.
"They think I bought a pretty face to keep the board quiet," Marcus continued smoothly. "They think you're a decoration."
Elara felt the sting.
Dominic stepped closer to her.
And for the first time — he didn't create distance.
He stood beside her.
Not in front.
Not behind.
Beside.
"She is not a rumor," he said calmly.
"She is my wife."
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't dramatic.
It was final.
Marcus studied them for a moment.
Then smiled slightly.
"Well… this just got interesting."
He left with a soft chuckle.
Silence returned.
Elara looked at Dominic.
"Do they say terrible things about you?"
He gave a humorless breath.
"They say I'm incapable of love."
She hesitated.
"Are they right?"
He didn't answer.
But his eyes dropped to her hand.
To the ring.
To the quiet space between them.
"I bought this marriage to protect something," he said quietly.
She swallowed.
"What?"
He looked at the world beyond the window.
"You."
The word hit her harder than anything he'd ever said.
Her heart forgot how to beat for a second.
Roses and rumors bloomed outside.
Danger grew silent roots.
And somewhere in the city, someone was beginning to hate the girl who wore his ring.