The silence in the vast Lu family mansion was deafening. The grand chandeliers above glimmered with cold brilliance, casting long shadows across the marble floors. For a house that symbolized power and wealth, it felt emptier than a desert.
Amelia sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, her wedding dress long since exchanged for a silk nightgown that felt foreign against her skin. The lace sleeves clung to her arms like restraints, reminding her of the invisible chains this marriage had wrapped around her. She glanced at the clock—11:47 PM. Hours had passed since the ceremony, yet Leonard had not once looked at her the way a groom should.
The bedroom door clicked. Heavy footsteps echoed as Leonard entered, his tailored suit still sharp despite the long day. He didn't spare her a glance. He loosened his tie, placed his Rolex watch on the nightstand, and shrugged off his blazer with mechanical precision.
Amelia's heart thudded painfully.She had prepared herself for coldness, but the sheer indifference pierced deeper than any cruelty.
"You're late," she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Leonard paused for a split second, as though acknowledging her presence, but continued unbuttoning his cuffs. "I had work." His tone was flat, dismissive, as if she were nothing more than a guest in his house.
"Work?" Amelia's lips trembled. "On our wedding night?"
That made him stop. Leonard's dark eyes lifted, locking onto hers. There was no warmth in them, only a storm carefully leashed behind layers of ice. "Let's not pretend this marriage is anything more than a contract, Amelia."
The words landed like a dagger. Amelia felt her throat tighten, but she forced herself to speak. "A contract… right. I suppose love wasn't part of the bargain."
For the first time, a flicker of emotion crossed Leonard's face—something sharp, almost bitter. "Love complicates things. And complications are dangerous."
Silence stretched. Amelia clenched her fists, the silk fabric wrinkling beneath her grip. She wanted to scream, to demand why he had agreed to this if he intended to treat her like a stranger. But her pride wouldn't allow her tears to fall in front of him.
Instead, she lifted her chin. "Then tell me, Leonard. What exactly did I sign up for? Because the contract I saw was only a marriage certificate."
Leonard's jaw tightened. He walked over to the sleek mahogany desk in the corner and pulled open a drawer. From within, he retrieved a black leather folder and tossed it onto the bed. The folder slid across the sheets until it stopped near Amelia's hands.
Her pulse quickened as she opened it. Inside were neatly typed documents, stamped with the Lu family's seal. At first glance, it looked like a prenuptial agreement—but the clauses inside made her stomach twist.
Clause 7: The wife shall not interfere with the husband's business affairs.Clause 9: The wife shall attend public functions when required, portraying the image of a harmonious marriage.Clause 12: Emotional entanglements or expectations outside of duty are strictly prohibited.
Amelia's breath caught. Strictly prohibited?
Her hands shook as she flipped the pages. This wasn't a marriage; it was a performance. She was to be nothing more than a prop in Leonard's carefully constructed world.
Her voice cracked. "So that's all I am to you? A clause in a contract? A… puppet for appearances?"
Leonard's gaze hardened. "You knew what you were walking into, Amelia. Or did you think my family chose you because of love?"
The truth stung. Of course she had known. Marriages in the upper echelons of society were rarely about romance. But deep down, she had hoped—hoped that maybe, just maybe, Leonard would see her as more than a pawn.
"I married a stranger," she whispered, her shoulders trembling. "And worse, a stranger who doesn't even want to try."
Leonard turned away, running a hand through his hair. His silence was louder than any rejection.
Amelia closed the folder with trembling hands. She could accept indifference, but she would not be erased. "Fine. If this is the game you want to play, I'll play it. But don't think for a second that I'll let you dictate my every move."
Her defiance drew his attention back to her. Leonard studied her with a strange intensity, as if reassessing the woman before him. For the first time, a spark of intrigue flickered in his eyes.
"You're braver than I thought," he said quietly.
Amelia forced a bitter smile. "Bravery is all I have left."
The night stretched on, heavy with unspoken words. Leonard eventually lay on the far side of the bed, creating a gulf of emptiness between them. Amelia turned her back to him, her tears finally falling where he couldn't see.
But as she drifted into restless sleep, a single thought anchored itself in her mind: if her life was to be bound by a contract, she would rewrite the terms in her own favor.
Morning arrived with the chime of Amelia's phone. A message blinked on the screen—from her best friend, Lila.
How's married life, Mrs. Lu? followed by a string of heart emojis.
Amelia's throat tightened. She typed back slowly: It feels like living in a glass cage.
Before she could hit send, Leonard's voice broke the silence. "We have a charity gala tonight. Be ready by seven. Wear something red."
Amelia froze. "Red?"
"It photographs well," he said simply, already adjusting his cufflinks.
Her eyes narrowed. Another performance. Another stage where she had to play the devoted wife. But if this was to be her reality, then she would learn to wield it.
She looked at him, her voice steady. "Very well, Mr. Lu. But remember—appearances can deceive. And I'm far better at playing a role than you think."
For a fleeting moment, Leonard's lips curved into something that almost resembled a smile—cold, enigmatic, and dangerous.
The game had begun.