Elena woke up to the faint golden rays seeping through the curtains of the penthouse bedroom. The sheets smelled faintly of expensive cologne and hotel linen, crisp and almost foreign against her skin. For a brief moment, she forgot where she was. Her hand reached across the bed instinctively, brushing against nothing but cool, untouched fabric.
Of course. Alexander hadn't slept beside her. He rarely did.
Her chest tightened at the reminder. Marriage, in her naïve mind, had always meant partnership — late-night whispers, shared mornings, and the subtle comfort of knowing someone was truly there. But this? This felt like a carefully constructed cage dressed in silk and luxury.
Dragging herself out of bed, Elena caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back at her didn't look like the girl who used to believe in fairy tales. She looked… tired. Married, but lonely. Desired by none, yet claimed by one.
She touched her cheek gently, whispering to herself, "You're stronger than this. You have to be."
The door clicked open, and Alexander's tall, commanding figure filled the doorway. His dark suit was already immaculate, his tie knotted with precision, as though every second of his life was pre-planned. His sharp gaze swept over her quickly, pausing for the briefest of moments.
"You're awake," he said flatly, his voice void of warmth.
Elena forced a small smile. "Good morning."
He didn't reply, only walked to the dresser to retrieve his watch. His silence gnawed at her, louder than words could ever be. She hated that it affected her. Hated that her heart still skipped at his nearness, even though his heart had never skipped for her.
"Are you heading to the office already?" she asked softly, more to fill the void than out of genuine curiosity.
Alexander's jaw flexed as he fastened the watch. "I have a meeting."
Always a meeting. Always an excuse.
Her lips parted, words resting on the tip of her tongue — Do you ever see me? Do you regret marrying me? Will you ever love me? But fear swallowed them all. Fear of rejection, of confirming what she already knew.
Instead, she simply nodded. "I see."
As he walked past her, his arm brushed against hers unintentionally. Even that small touch sent a current down her skin. But he moved away so quickly, it was as though it hadn't happened at all.
When the door shut behind him, Elena released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Hours later, she found herself wandering through the penthouse's expansive living room. It was beautiful, yes — marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows with breathtaking city views — but it was also empty. Sterile. Like a museum.
She picked up a book from the coffee table, flipping through the pages absentmindedly. Her mind was elsewhere.
Memories flooded back: her mother's trembling hands when she signed the marriage agreement, her father's relieved sigh that their debts would be covered, the hushed whispers from relatives who thought she was "lucky" to have caught the attention of the powerful Alexander Knight.
Lucky? She almost laughed. If this was luck, what did misfortune look like?
Her phone buzzed, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts. It was a message from her best friend, Clara.
Clara:Are you okay? Haven't heard from you since the wedding.
Elena:I'm fine. Just… adjusting.
Clara:You don't sound fine. Do you want me to visit?
Elena stared at the screen, her eyes stinging. Clara's presence would be a comfort, but Alexander had made it clear — he didn't want outsiders interfering. And she was already walking on eggshells in this marriage.
Elena:Not now. But thank you.
She set the phone down, hugging herself as the weight of loneliness pressed heavier.
That evening, the silence was broken by Alexander's unexpected return. Elena had prepared dinner — simple dishes, nothing fancy — more out of habit than hope.
When he stepped inside, she greeted him carefully. "Welcome back."
His gaze swept over the dining table. "You cooked?"
Her heart lifted a little at the surprise in his tone. "Yes. I thought… maybe we could eat together."
For the first time, Alexander hesitated. His usual cold mask cracked ever so slightly. He looked at her — really looked — and something unreadable flickered in his eyes.
After a long pause, he sat down.
Elena's chest tightened with cautious hope. She served him quietly, her hands trembling slightly as she placed a plate in front of him.
He picked up his fork, took a bite, and said nothing.
The silence stretched, suffocating her. She finally blurted, "Do you hate me that much?"
Alexander's hand froze mid-air. His gaze lifted, sharp as a blade. "What did you say?"
Her throat tightened, but she refused to back down. "You never look at me. You never speak to me unless you have to. You treat me like a stranger in my own marriage. So tell me, Alexander — do you hate me?"
The room fell deathly silent.
For a moment, she thought he would stand up and walk away like always. But instead, he set his fork down slowly. His eyes darkened, stormy and unreadable.
"Elena," he said, his voice low, "you don't know what you're asking."
"Then tell me!" Her voice cracked with desperation. "Tell me why you married me if you can't stand to be near me. Tell me why you agreed to this if—"
"Because I had no choice!" His voice thundered, slamming into her like a physical force.
Her lips parted in shock. He had never raised his voice before.
Alexander's chest heaved, his hands clenched into fists. His mask had slipped completely now, revealing something raw, something tortured.
"You think I wanted this?" he continued, his voice shaking with suppressed emotion. "You think this marriage was my decision? You know nothing, Elena. Nothing!"
Tears welled in her eyes. "Then help me understand."
His gaze locked on hers, piercing and conflicted. For the first time, she saw something beyond indifference in his eyes. Pain. Guilt. Anger. Regret.
But instead of answering, he pushed back his chair abruptly and stood. "This conversation is over."
And just like that, the fragile moment shattered. He stormed into his study, leaving Elena trembling in the silence, her tears finally spilling.
She sank into her chair, clutching her chest.
Her marriage wasn't just loveless. It was haunted by secrets. Secrets she wasn't sure she was ready to uncover.
But one thing was certain — Alexander Knight was a man carrying chains. And somehow, she had become one of them.