By noon, I had convinced myself that I had made the worst decision of my life.
By one, I wasn’t so sure.
By three, I was furious.
By five, I was standing in front of my bedroom with two suitcases.
Claire stared at me.
Then at the suitcases.
Then back at me.
“You’re actually doing this.”
“Yes.”
“You’re marrying Adrian Blackwood.”
“Yes.”
“The Adrian Blackwood?”
“How many Adrian Blackwoods do you know?”
She ignored the question.
“The billionaire?”
“Yes.”
“The man who owns half the buildings downtown?”
“Probably.”
“The man who has never been photographed with a girlfriend?”
“I don’t know.”
“The man who looks like he could kill someone without changing his expression?”
I looked at her.
“That’s exactly the man.”
Claire dropped onto my bed.
“This is insane.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you doing it?”
I looked at the silver bracelet around my wrist.
Because I had no idea what else to do.
Because Daniel had lied to me.
Because my father had lied to me.
Because everyone seemed to know something about my life except me.
And because Adrian Blackwood had offered me something nobody else had.
Control.
“I need time,” I said.
Claire’s expression softened.
“Then take time.”
“I am.”
“You don’t need a husband to do that.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
I didn’t answer.
She walked toward me.
“Promise me something.”
“What?”
“If he hurts you, leave.”
I smiled.
“I have a contract.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
She looked at me seriously.
“Don’t let a contract become another cage.”
Her words stayed with me.
An hour later, I walked out of my family’s house.
Adrian was waiting beside a black car.
He looked at my suitcases.
Then at me.
“You packed light.”
“I didn’t plan to stay.”
His gaze shifted to Claire.
She stepped forward.
“If you hurt her, billionaire or not, I will find a way to ruin your life.”
Adrian looked at her.
Then nodded.
“I believe you.”
Claire blinked.
She clearly hadn’t expected that.
Adrian opened the car door.
I got inside.
The drive was quiet.
I watched the city pass outside the window.
For the first time in my life, I was leaving one home to live with a man I barely knew.
A man who had secrets.
A man who had somehow appeared at exactly the moment my life collapsed.
A man who wanted to marry me.
The Blackwood mansion stood behind a massive iron gate.
It was less like a house and more like a private estate.
Stone walls.
Tall windows.
Perfect gardens.
Security everywhere.
I stepped out of the car.
Adrian stood beside me.
“Welcome home.”
I looked at him.
“This isn’t my home.”
“Not yet.”
“I don’t think it will ever be.”
He didn’t argue.
Inside, everything was elegant and cold.
A housekeeper greeted us.
“Mr. Blackwood.”
Adrian nodded.
“This is Elena.”
The woman smiled politely.
“Welcome, Mrs. Blackwood.”
The title made my stomach twist.
Mrs.
Blackwood.
I wasn’t used to it.
I wasn’t sure I ever would be.
Adrian took one of my suitcases.
“I can carry it.”
“I know.”
He continued upstairs.
I followed.
My room was enormous.
Cream walls.
A balcony.
A private sitting area.
Fresh flowers.
A walk-in closet larger than my old bedroom.
I stared at it.
“You prepared this.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
I turned.
“You expected me to say yes.”
“I prepared for both answers.”
“What would have happened if I said no?”
“You’d never know.”
He left the room.
I stood there alone.
On the dresser was a small box.
I opened it.
Inside was a simple silver key.
I looked at the note beneath it.
For when you want to leave.
I stared at it for several seconds.
Then I heard a voice behind me.
“Interesting.”
I turned.
An older man stood in the doorway.
Silver hair.
Straight posture.
Cold eyes.
Adrian’s father.
Marcus Blackwood.
His gaze moved from me to the key.
Then back to me.
“So you’re Victor Carter’s daughter.”
I straightened.
“Yes.”
His expression hardened.
“I didn’t expect to see a Carter in this house again.”
Adrian appeared behind him.
“Father.”
Marcus didn’t look at him.
“This is a mistake.”
Adrian’s voice was calm.
“That’s not your decision.”
Marcus finally turned toward his son.
“You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“Do you?”
The silence between them felt older than I was.
Marcus looked at me again.
“Your family destroyed ours.”
I froze.
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“Enough.”
Marcus walked away.
I looked at Adrian.
“What did he mean?”
He didn’t answer.
“Adrian.”
He looked at me.
“You’ll hear many versions of the past.”
“And yours?”
“My version comes later.”
I watched him leave.
Then I looked around the room again.
A new house.
A new husband.
A new life.
And somehow, I was beginning to realize that my marriage wasn’t just between Adrian and me.
It was between two families that had been enemies long before I understood why.