Olivia's POV
The penthouse doesn't feel like home.
Olivia stands in the middle of her new room and turns in a slow circle. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the entire city. She can see lights stretching all the way to the horizon. Millions of people living their lives below her. She's never been this high up. The world looks small from here.
The room is beautiful. Expensive. Everything is white and gray and cold. There's a bed that's bigger than her old bedroom. A bathroom with marble floors and a shower that probably costs more than her car. A closet already filled with clothes that aren't hers. Dresses. Shoes. All things Adrian bought so she'd look like someone who belongs in his world.
She sets down the one suitcase the driver brought up. Everything else is already here. Already waiting. Already hers, which means already not hers.
The closet door opens and she pulls out a dress. It's stunning. Navy blue with a simple cut. She has no memory of owning it. Adrian's assistant must have chosen it. Measured her size. Picked out her entire life.
She hangs it back up carefully.
The room feels like a prison that costs five million dollars.
Olivia sits on the edge of the bed. The mattress is firm. Perfect. Everything in Adrian's world is perfect because he controls everything. His schedule. His clothes. His emotions. And now her.
She looks at her phone. A text from her mother: Thank you for believing in yourself. Your father is smiling for the first time in years.
Olivia puts the phone down before she can cry.
There's a knock on the door.
Adrian.
He's wearing a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up slightly. His hair is messy. Not styled like it was at the office. He looks human for once. Like maybe there's a real person underneath the cold businessman suit.
"I forgot to mention something," Adrian says. He's not coming in. Just standing in the doorway like he's keeping distance on purpose.
"What?" Olivia asks.
"Breakfast is at seven. Every morning. My schedule is always the same. You'll need to adapt." He says it like it's not a request. Like her days now belong to his routine.
Olivia nods.
Adrian looks around the room like he's seeing it for the first time. "Is everything acceptable?"
"It's beautiful," Olivia says.
"Good." He turns to leave.
"Adrian, wait."
He stops.
"I don't know how to do this," she says quietly. "I don't know how to pretend. I don't know how to wake up at seven and make breakfast and act like I love you when I'm supposed to hate you."
Adrian turns back. His expression is soft in a way she hasn't seen before. Vulnerable. Like the mask slipped for just a second.
"You'll learn," he says. "You're better at pretending than you think."
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box.
Olivia's heart stops.
"Your ring," he says.
He walks to her and opens the box. A platinum diamond sits inside. It's stunning. Brilliant. The kind of ring that belongs in a museum, not on the hand of a girl from Brooklyn.
"It's beautiful," Olivia whispers.
"It needs to fit," Adrian says. He takes her hand gently. His touch is careful. Like he's holding something fragile.
He slides the ring onto her finger.
It fits perfectly.
Of course it does. He measured her. He studied her. She's not a person to him. She's a project. Something to be controlled and managed and positioned just right.
"How did you know my size?" she asks.
Adrian doesn't answer immediately. He's still holding her hand. Just barely. Like he's already breaking his own rules about boundaries.
"I paid attention," he finally says. "That's what I do. I pay attention to details. It's how I win."
He releases her hand and steps back.
"Goodnight, Olivia," Adrian says. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow starts early."
He's gone before she can respond.
Olivia looks at the ring on her finger. It catches the light and throws rainbows across the room. It's the most beautiful thing she's ever owned. It's also the most depressing.
Because the ring means something. In the real world, a ring means forever. It means love. It means someone chose you and decided you were worth keeping.
But on her hand, it just means three years.
It just means she's Adrian's property now. Measured. Calculated. Positioned perfectly.
She takes off the ring and sets it on the nightstand. She can't sleep wearing it. Can't bear the weight of it on her hand.
Olivia lies in the huge bed in the cold room and stares at the ceiling.
Outside, the city lights blink like a thousand eyes watching her. Waiting to see if she'll survive three years with Adrian Kess. Waiting to see if she'll manage to keep her heart protected.
She already knows the answer.
She's already failing.
Because Adrian came to her room with messy hair and rolled up sleeves and she saw something human underneath all that control. She saw loneliness that matches hers exactly. She saw a man who's been alone so long he doesn't know how to be anything else.
And she wanted to reach out and touch him. She wanted to tell him that three years is a long time. That things change. That contracts can break.
She wanted to tell him that she's not going to hate him forever.
But Adrian made it clear. Falling in love is forbidden. It's the one rule she absolutely cannot break.
So instead, Olivia lies in her beautiful cold room in Adrian's penthouse and understands something terrifying.
This is her new life now.
Three years of pretending. Three years of wearing a ring that means nothing. Three years of waking up at seven and making breakfast and playing a wife while the man she's married explicitly told her not to care about him.
Three years of slowly falling apart while smiling for the world.
And as she finally falls asleep, Olivia realizes the worst part.
She's going to break his rule.
She's going to fall in love with Adrian Kess anyway.
And when she does, everything is going to burn.