I watched Dylan disappear down the hallway before turning toward the wide staircase.
My stomach gave a loud painful rumble.
I hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning.
Now the smell of brewed coffee, pancakes and toasted bread was enough to make me forget, for a few seconds, that I had accidentally married the most terrifying man in the country.
I followed the smell down a corridor with a high ceiling and entered the dining room.
A long wooden table stood at the center of the room, already set with eggs, grilled sausages, fresh fruit, and coffee.
Dylan came in a few minutes later, already changed out of his gear.
Now he wore a black button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone and tailored brown trousers.
Without the weapons and armour, he looked less like a soldier returning from the wilderness and more like the dangerous heir of the Burke family.
He glanced at me and pointed toward the empty chair beside him before sitting at the head of the table.
“Sit.
Eat.” I pulled out the chair and sat down.
Bowman poured dark coffee into a white porcelain cup beside my plate.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
The chief butler inclined his head and stepped away.
I picked up my fork.
“So what happens now?
Are you going to keep me locked in this house?” Dylan cut into his sausage.
“You wanted this wedding, Knox.
Now you live by my rules.
If I tell you to keep quiet, you do.
If I tell you to die, you should.” My fork stopped halfway to my mouth.
“Excuse me?” He took a sip of coffee.
“This is my private residence.
I don’t expect you to understand what happens beyond these walls, but you will respect my security.” “I don’t care about your security.
I need to know my boundaries.” Dylan finally looked at me.
“You can leave the grounds whenever you like.
However, you will not compromise my perimeter, bring strangers here, or leak anything about this property.” I blinked.
“So I’m allowed to leave?” “Yes.” “Without asking or needing your permission?” “I am your husband, Knox, not your warden.” He wiped his fingers with a linen napkin.
“Just don’t make your mess my problem.” I had expected more, to be honest, especially with the reputation he had.
Didn’t they say he chained his suitors and tortured them until they promised never to show their faces in his presence again?
I had even heard he fed a suitor to a beast he was hunting.
Instead, he was treating me like an irritating roommate who happened to sign a legal contract with him.
Gosh, I really picked an exciting personality for a husband.
“Fine.” I grabbed a piece of toast.
“Then I’m going out right now.
I need fresh air and I need to find a lawyer.” Dylan didn’t even look up.
“Suit yourself.” I shoved the toast into my mouth, stood, and marched toward the front entrance.
Bowman opened the doors for me.
“Have a pleasant walk, Mrs.
Burke.” “I’m not coming back,” I called over my shoulder.
I took three steps onto the porch.
Then I stopped.
Four satellite news vans were parked outside the iron gates of Blackwood House.
Dozens of reporters crowded the perimeter, cameras pointed toward the entrance and microphones raised.
The moment I appeared, the shouting began.
“THERE SHE IS!” “STELLA!
IS IT TRUE YOU DRUGGED YOUR SISTER?!” “MRS.
BURKE!
WHY DID DYLAN MARRY YOU?!” “WHERE IS HOLLAND BURKE?!” “HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?!” Flashbulbs went off across the gates.
Two black sedans bearing the Knox family crest were parked across the road.
My stepmother’s assistant stood beside one of them, holding a thick stack of papers.
Nope.
Absolutely not.
I’m not dealing with all that today.
I took one step backward, then another.
There was no way I was getting through that gate.
Not like I had somewhere to be.
I turned around and walked straight back inside.
Bowman was still standing near the entrance.
“Changed your mind, Mrs.
Burke?” I glared at him.
“The weather looks terrible.” “Of course.” I marched back into the dining room.
Dylan was still eating.
“The front gate is blocked,” I muttered.
“I know.” “You could have told me.
You let me go out there looking like the first victim of a zombie apocalypse.” “You didn’t ask.” Wow.
I dropped into my chair.
A tiny blue prompt flickered at the edge of my vision before disappearing.
I ignored it.
I had bigger problems than the talking migraine in my head.
“Fine.
I’ll stay here until the media circus dies down.” I picked up my coffee.
“But we need rules.” Dylan looked at me.
“Go on.” “Separate rooms.” He nodded once.
“No touching.” “Fine.
Unless I need to move you out of danger.
I won’t be asking permission for that one.” I opened my mouth to argue and found I didn’t actually have an argument.
“…Fine.” “And we don’t pretend to be a real couple when we’re alone.” “Agreed.” He picked his coffee back up.
“In public, we perform.
That part isn’t optional — it’s how I’ll keep the flies guessing whether you’re a weakness or a weapon.
Pick one before someone else decides for you.” I narrowed my eyes.
“That’s it?” “Did you have more?” “Depends.
Are you actually going to follow any of them, or is this just you being agreeable until I stop paying attention?” Dylan set his coffee down.
“I don’t repeat myself, Knox.
I also don’t forget things.” “That’s not comforting.” “It wasn’t meant to be.” I took a sip of coffee.
“One more thing.
What happened to Holland?” Dylan stopped moving.
“He was supposed to be the groom,” I continued.
“Why were you standing at that altar?” Dylan’s fork paused over his plate for a second longer than it needed to.
“Holland left before the wedding.” “He ran?” “That’s one word for it.” “What’s another word?” He set the fork down.
“Ask me again once you’ve earned an answer worth having.” “That’s not a no.” “It’s not a yes, either.
Eat your breakfast, Knox.” Holland was supposed to be the beloved Burke son.
The one everyone expected to marry Kristen had simply disappeared before his own wedding?
That didn’t make any sense at all.
There had to be more to the story.
Before I could ask another question, the sound of hurried footsteps came from the hallway.
A man in black tactical gear appeared at the entrance.
“Sir.” The guard’s eyes flicked to me for half a second before finding Dylan again.
“Can we talk—” “She stays.” Dylan didn’t even glance my way.
“Report.” The guard swallowed and held out the tablet.
“Western base went dark ten minutes ago.
Two perimeter teams aren’t answering.” Dylan’s thumb moved down the screen slow enough that I could tell he wasn’t reading — he was deciding something.
“Location?” “Grid seven.
Same stretch as the ravine job.” Something shifted in him that I couldn’t name.
Bowman, who came to check if we needed anything, went completely still.
“Get the transport ready,” Dylan said.
“Tell Command I want a headcount, not a guess.” The guard was already moving.
“Yes, sir.” I sat there with my fork halfway to my mouth, watching the man who’d just lost an argument about “no touching” turn into someone I didn’t recognize in under thirty seconds.
I looked between them.
“Wait.
You’re going somewhere?” Dylan’s gaze settled on me.
“Yes.” “Good.
Then I’ll stay here.
Have fun.” “No.” I blinked.
“No?” “You’re coming with me.” I nearly choked on my coffee.
“What?
Haha!
You’re so funny.” Dylan was already walking toward the hallway.
“Get dressed.” I stared after him.
“You cannot just take me into whatever monster-infested nightmare you’re going to!
You just said I had free will and I choose to remain right here!
Thank you for your understanding.” He stopped without turning.
“You married me yesterday, Knox.
You’re already in the nightmare and I specifically said you live by my rules in this house.
Now, get dressed or rather, check your belongings and pick an outfit you’re more comfortable with.
I will not repeat myself again.” Then he continued walking.
I sat there with my coffee in my hand, wondering if divorce papers could be filed in less than twenty four hours after the wedding.
Why don’t you try divorcing him?
hm?
—UC.