Chapter 2

The wedding seemed more like a business meeting than a ceremony to Elena.

Elena stood at the entrance of the grand cathedral, waiting for it to open up, leading her straight to the altar where her so-called-groom stood. Her hands clutching onto the bouquet so tightly her knuckles might have appeared pale. The weight of the lace gown felt suffocating but not as suffocating as what she was about to enter.

Soft music could be heard playing inside, as the grand door opened up. She was immediately bombarded with flashes of camera from the press. Guests filled the church murmuring behind their mask of polite smiles. Every single one of them was someone of importance. CEO’s, politicians, socialistes. People who clearly seem to matter to the Adrian Cross empire.

To them, she wasn’t a bride, she was a spectacle.

There she stood at the entrance trying to regain consciousness and get this whole thing over with. There was nothing she could do at this point, she knew even if she tried to run, Adrian might have had snipers in the surrounding building, ready to take out anyone and anything.

She took deep breaths and stroded towards the altar.

“Smile,” Adrian whispered. His voice low but firm. He leaned in closer to her, just enough for only her to hear. “You do not want them thinking you’re unhappy, do you?”

‘Easy for you to say!’ She nearly retorted back at him.

As the priest began, Elena could not bring herself to meet Adrian’s gaze. She knew what she’d find there: indifference. The man standing beside her might have been her husband by the end of the day, but he was still a stranger. A stranger with the power to dismantle her family’s life if she dared to step out of line.

When the vows were exchanged, Adrian’s words rolled off his tongue effortlessly, each syllable sounding perfectly rehearsed. His hand clasped hers as he slid the ring onto her finger, the cool metal sending a chill up her spine.

“Elena?” the priest prompted, breaking her out of her daze.

Her lips parted, but the words refused to come. For a split second, she reconsidered running away—about tearing the veil from her head, tossing the bouquet aside, and fleeing down the aisle.

But then her gaze shifted to her father, sitting in the front row. Aaron Rivera, once so proud and confident, looked worn and defeated. The debt weighed on him as much as it weighed on her.

For her father. For her family.

“I do,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Adrian’s lips twitched into the faintest smirk, as if he knew exactly what had gone through her mind in that moment of hesitation.

A smattering of applause followed them as they walked down the aisle together, but Elena didn’t hear it. Her mind was already spinning, trying to prepare herself for what came next.

The car ride to Adrian’s penthouse was silent. Elena sat stiffly in the plush leather seat, her hands folded neatly in her lap, the weight of the diamond ring on her finger reminding her of the hellhole she just entered. Adrian sat beside her scrolling through his phone as though he’d just finished a meeting instead of a wedding.

Her eyes scanned him briefly, irritation bubbling beneath her exhaustion. How could you look so calm, so unaffected, while my world had been turned upside down? Do you even care what this arrangement meant for me?

His gaze instantly turned to her, fury blazing in them. It was then she realized that she may or may not have taught aloud.

“I’m so sorry,” she quickly barked out. She felt stupid, how did she say it out loud without realizing.

“I don’t care about your apology, Elena. Think whatever you want, but from today I make the rules and you are not allowed to talk to me in that manner.”

All she could do was be silent for the entire ride to his house, wishing the ground could open up and swallow her.

When they arrived, the sight of the glass skyscraper that Adrian called a home stole her breath away. His penthouse covered the top floors, shining like a crown jewel. The doorman greeted them with a bow, the elevator whisked them upward in seconds, and soon Elena found herself standing in the middle of a space that felt more like an art museum than a home.

Everything was spotless, from the shining marble floors to the neatly designed artwork on the walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased a beautiful view of the city below, the lights twinkling like a sea of stars. The silence in the room was deafening, the only sound that could be heard was the soft sound of air conditioning.

Adrian pulled off his jacket and loosened his tie. He threw both carelessly on the sleek leather armchair and turned to face her, his expression unreadable.

“This is where you’ll live now,” he said simply, gesturing to the expansive living room with a casual wave of his hand. “I suggest you get used to it.”

Elena’s eyes roamed the space again—luxury everywhere she looked. The kind of wealth that most people could only dream of. But it didn’t feel like a home. It felt cold, a representation of his billions rather than a place where someone actually lived.

She folded her arms, her gaze snapping back to him. “I’m not here to be your prisoner,” she bit at him.

Adrian raised his brow, a hint of amusement flickering across his face. “No, you’re not,Elena” he replied, his tone as calm “You’re here to be my wife. And I expect you to act like it.”

Her jaw dropped slightly, her disbelief turning into a simmering anger. “Act like it? You better be kidding me” she repeated, her voice rising. “What exactly does that mean? Because if you think I’m going to cook, clean for a man or—” She paised, her face flushing with heat. “—or anything else that fits into your idea of a wife, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Adrian let out a short, humorless laugh “Relax,” he said, his amber eyes fixed on hers. “I don’t need you to cook or clean. I can hire a team of professionals for that.”

Her frustration increased. “Then what, exactly, do you expect me to do? Because I sure as hell won’t—” Her voice faltered for a moment, the words catching in her throat. “—I won’t sleep in the same room as you, and I definitely won’t be giving you any children. Ever.”

Adrian’s smirk returned “children? Who mentioned anything about them? Don’t tell me you’ve been considering having sex with me”

“W-what? Like I would have sex with a man who have a reputation of fucking half the population of female celebrities in this town” she fired back at him.

“Oh, so you did your research I see,” his tone unbothered “well I wasn’t planning to share my room, and I have no interest in fatherhood.”

She blinked, taken aback by how easily he dismissed her outburst. The man was infuriatingly composed, as if nothing she said could rattle him.

“Then what’s the point of all this?” she demanded, gesturing around the lavish penthouse. “If you don’t want a real marriage, why bother dragging me into your life?”

Adrian leaned casually against the arm of the sofa, his gaze unwavering. “Because appearances matter,” he said. “People in my position don’t just ‘pop up’ with a wife without raising questions. A wedding—especially one with your family’s name attached to it—quiets those questions. It makes me untouchable.”

Elena stared at him, the audacity of his words “So that’s it?” she said bitterly. “I’m just here to make you look good? To play the part of your little trophy wife while you continue living your life as if I don’t exist?”

Adrian’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with something she couldn’t quite place—amusement, perhaps, or a challenge. “You catch on quickly,” he said, his voice maddeningly calm.

Her hands balled into fists at her sides. “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered. “And you’re mistaken if you think I’m going to just stand by and be some prop for you to flaunt when it suits you.”

He straightened, stepping closer, the air around them seeming to tighten. “I don’t care what you do in this penthouse, Elena,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. “As long as you play your role in public, we won’t have any problems. You’ll have money wired to your account every week for your upkeep, I don’t care what you do with it, and as for your sexual life” he paused, looking her dead in the eyes “you are only allowed to use toys, you are my property and the moment a man lays a finger on you, he’s gone. Remember this marriage is for our benefit” His expression as dangerous as ever.

She stared at him with disbelief, “you do not have any say in my sexual life, you’re unbelievable, while you’re out there having multiple sexual affairs, you think you can limit me to just a fucking toy? You’re wrong” she shot at him, her chest heaving, her anger boiling over. “And how does being forced into a sham marriage benefit me, exactly? Enlighten me, because I’m dying to know.”

Adrian’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “Are you indirectly saying you want my cock just for you alone, Ms Rivera?” He stepped dangerously close to her, she could feel his breath on her face.

She stepped back a bit, her back meeting the elevator door, the distance between them sent chills down her spine. He was unbelievable, how can a human be so arrogant and cocky at the same time, she taught to herself.

“Your family stays out of ruin. Your father keeps his business. And you, Elena, get to live in luxury instead of worrying where your next meal will come from. That’s what you benefit, incase you’ve forgotten”

The words hit her like a slap, and for a moment, she was too stunned to respond. When she finally found her voice, it was laced with venom. “You think you can buy me with your money?” She held up her hand, the diamond ring catching the light.

He didn’t flinch, his expression as composed as ever. “I didn’t buy you, Elena,” he said, his tone clipped. “I secured a deal. And if you’re smart, you’ll accept that.” He backed away, giving them a little distance.

Her chest heaving. “You may have money, Adrian, but that doesn’t make you better than me. It doesn’t make you right.”

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze piercing as it lingered on her. his smirk softened into something closer to indifference. “This conversation is over,” he said, turning away from her and walking toward the kitchen.

“Of course it is,” she muttered under her breath. “Everything’s always on your terms, isn’t it?”

He paused but didn’t look back. “You’ll find your room down the hall to the left, your things have been arranged neatly for you, the last drawer on your left has everything you’ll need in satisfying that pussy” he said. “I suggest you get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll discuss more ground rules.”

Elena glared at his retreating figure, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. She wanted to scream, to throw something, to make him feel just a fraction of the frustration and helplessness she felt.

Instead, she turned on her heel and stormed off in the direction he’d indicated. When she reached the door to what was now “her” room, she hesitated, her hand hovering over the knob. She took a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside her.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.