The air was too clean—like wealth had scrubbed even the dust from Veloria's elite district. I stood before the obsidian gates of the Knight Estate, my pulse thudding like I was about to enter a war zone instead of a mansion.
No turning back now.
My fingers clutched the hem of my dress as the gates creaked open. A black car rolled up slowly, deliberately, like it had no reason to rush for someone like me. When the window rolled down, I caught my first real glimpse of him.
Ares Knight.
He didn't speak. He didn't have to. His presence said everything.
Sharp suit. Cold eyes. A face carved by God—but hardened by the devil.
I stepped in, swallowing the knot in my throat as the door shut with a hiss. The air inside the car was expensive—leather and power, suffocating in its silence.
"You're late," he said finally, voice smooth but edged with steel.
I glanced at him, startled by how much he looked like a storm in human form. Calm on the surface. Deadly underneath.
"I wasn't sure you'd still want to go through with it," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
His eyes flicked toward me like a challenge. "You signed the contract."
A marriage on paper. A deal sealed with ink, not love.
Be his wife for one year. No questions. No complaints. No leaving.
In return, I'd get what I wanted most: freedom—from debts, danger, and my past. A clean slate. A new name.
And maybe, just maybe, the truth about what happened to my sister.
The ride to the mansion was silent, but the questions in my head screamed. Why me? Why now? What did a man like Ares Knight want with a nobody like me?
When we arrived, the staff lined the marble steps like soldiers awaiting their king. But their eyes flicked to me—not with warmth, but with warning.
I wasn't welcome here.
The mansion was a cathedral of wealth—glass walls, silver chandeliers, art that probably cost more than I'd made in my entire life. Yet the shadows clung to every corner like secrets refused to leave.
Ares led me to the grand hall, where a long table stood with a single document resting on its surface.
Our marriage certificate.
"No priest. No ceremony?" I asked, half-joking, half-hoping.
His jaw ticked. "This isn't a fairytale, Miss Elara."
That was the first time he'd said my name.
And somehow, it felt like a warning.
I signed the paper with trembling fingers. When he signed his name, it was with the ease of a man who was used to ownership.
And just like that, I became Mrs. Knight.
"From this moment on, you'll live here. You'll attend public events with me when needed. You'll speak when spoken to—and never ask about my business," he said, eyes never leaving mine.
"And if I break any of the rules?" I asked.
His lips curved into something almost like a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Then you'll learn why people don't cross me."
Something about his words stirred a flicker of fear—and something else. Something darker. A curiosity I wasn't proud of.
Later that night, I sat in my new bedroom—more like a suite. White velvet sheets. Golden mirrors. A vanity I didn't belong near. It was too perfect, too quiet.
And in the silence, the memory came again.
The sound of screaming. A flash of red. My sister's face. And a voice—deep, urgent—whispering, Run.
I gripped the edge of the bed, gasping as the vision faded.
A knock came at the door.
It was him.
"I'll be leaving early tomorrow. You won't see me much. Make yourself useful to the staff. Or stay out of the way," he said.
"I didn't marry you to be invisible."
He stepped closer. Too close.
His hand reached out, brushing my cheek—not tenderly, but like he was testing me. As if I were a puzzle he hadn't decided how to solve yet.
"You married me because you needed saving. Don't forget that."
And then he walked out, leaving behind the scent of danger and a trail of questions.
I sat in the silence of the room, heart still pounding.
I had stepped into his world for answers, for safety.
But already, I knew one thing for sure.
Being married to Ares Knight would be the most dangerous decision of my life.