Chapter 5 : The Mirror Room
The air was cooler tonight.
Not the kind that carried relief, but the kind that came with elegance, secrets, and shadows too rich to breathe. Elena stood before the mirror in the hallway of the Rivera Mansion—a modern masterpiece of glass and silence. Her reflection was veiled in layers of lace and silk. Her face had been painted into submission by an artist paid to erase all signs of her defiance. But her eyes—they had not learned how to lie.
"You look the part now," came a voice behind her. Cold. Smooth. Calculated.
Adrian.
He adjusted his cufflinks without stepping closer. His eyes flicked toward her in the mirror, scanning her like a sculpture he didn't remember ordering. A wife made of porcelain and unspoken vows.
"Is this what you imagined when you forced me into this marriage?" she whispered.
"No," he replied. "I imagined silence. You've proven far more entertaining."
She turned around, the soft clink of her diamond earrings echoing in the vast hall.
Tonight was their first official public appearance since the wedding—a charity gala held in Adrian's name. Elena was expected to smile, pose, and play her role as the billionaire's bride. But beneath her flawless gown, her soul was war-torn.
Adrian walked toward her and straightened the brooch on her shoulder—an heirloom, cold and heavy like his touch.
"Remember," he murmured near her ear, "you're Mrs. Adrian Knight tonight. And Mrs. Adrian Knight doesn't flinch."
---
The limousine ride was silent, but the silence wasn't empty. It crackled. It smoldered.
Adrian scrolled through his phone, his jaw locked in perpetual disinterest. Elena stared out the window, counting lights, wondering if anyone at the gala would be able to see through the fabric of this performance.
"Who's going to be there?" she asked finally.
"No one you should speak to," he answered, not looking up.
"Why do you say that like it's a threat?"
Adrian's lips curled. "Because it is."
---
The Rivera Mansion was bathed in warm light and golden laughter. Guests swirled in gowns and tuxedos, sipping wine older than their memories. Elena stepped out of the car, her hand resting on Adrian's arm as cameras flashed and murmurs rose like smoke.
"Smile," he commanded through clenched teeth.
She smiled. But not for the cameras.
For herself. For the war she was quietly waging beneath her skin.
---
Inside the ballroom, chandeliers glittered like ice above a world of glass illusions. Every guest had a story. Every smile hid a secret. Every man here owed Adrian Knight something.
Elena moved through the crowd like a question no one wanted to answer. The women glanced at her with envy. The men, with a kind of detached curiosity—as if she were another of Adrian's acquisitions.
She stopped by the bar to catch her breath.
"Don't like champagne?" asked a voice beside her.
A woman with raven hair and wine-red lips smiled with the kind of elegance that cost too much to maintain.
"I prefer clarity," Elena replied.
The woman's laughter rang out. "Oh darling, you won't find that here. I'm Isabel, by the way."
There was something about Isabel's smile—too knowing. Too smooth.
"You've known Adrian long?" Elena asked.
Isabel took a sip from her glass, her eyes dancing. "Let's just say... I knew the man before he started hiding his heart behind boardrooms and billion-dollar companies."
Elena stiffened.
"Does he still hate being touched in his sleep?" Isabel added casually.
Elena didn't answer. Couldn't.
Isabel leaned in. "He always did love a woman he couldn't control."
---
Elena found Adrian near the marble staircase, surrounded by men in suits discussing politics as if it were poker. She walked up and touched his arm. He stiffened slightly but turned.
"Can we talk?" she asked.
"Later."
"No. Now."
His eyes sharpened. But he excused himself and followed her down the corridor to a quiet balcony, moonlight spilling like silver ink.
"What's the urgency?" he asked, folding his arms.
"Who is Isabel to you?"
"Who told you that name?"
"She did."
Adrian exhaled slowly. "She's irrelevant."
"She seems to think otherwise."
Adrian walked closer. "Let me make one thing clear. Whatever stories you hear about me from others—past lovers, enemies, journalists—they are all built from fractured truths. Don't look for the man I used to be, Elena. He died a long time ago."
She didn't step back. "And who's standing in front of me now?"
He reached out, his fingers brushing the side of her face. "A man you should be afraid of."
---
Back inside, the music swelled as the main performance began. A string quartet played beneath a ceiling of falling petals. But Elena could only focus on one thing—Adrian's eyes watching her like a storm about to break.
As she turned to escape the weight of it all, she bumped into a man.
Tall. Dark suit. A scar along his jaw.
"Forgive me," she said, trying to pass.
He blocked her.
"You're Elena Black, yes?"
"Yes."
"I'd like to offer you a truth your husband has kept from you."
She froze.
"Who are you?"
"Someone who owes Adrian everything. And wants him to pay."
Before she could respond, Adrian appeared behind her.
"Step away from my wife," he said coldly.
The man raised both hands in mock surrender. "Of course. But remind her... contracts can be broken."
He disappeared into the crowd.
Elena looked at Adrian. "What contract was he talking about?"
Adrian's jaw clenched. "Not tonight."
She pulled away from him, breath heavy. "Was this marriage even real?"
Adrian stepped closer, gripping her wrist—not painfully, but firmly.
"You want honesty?" he said. "You won't survive it."
The room around them glittered and smiled, oblivious to the war brewing in the shadows.
---
Later that night, back in their penthouse, Elena stood by the window, still in her gown, watching the moon mock her through the glass.
Adrian entered, poured himself a drink, and leaned against the doorway.
"I warned you," he said.
"You didn't warn me about the lies."
He walked closer. "You want to know the truth?"
"Yes."
Adrian placed the drink down. "Then be ready to burn with it."
He handed her a single sheet of paper. One line glowed under the reading lamp.
Clause 6B: The marriage shall stand valid for one year only, or until the subject loses all legal claim to the Rivera estate.
Elena's heart dropped.
"You married me… for the estate?"
"No," he replied. "I married you… to save you from someone far worse."
She looked up sharply. "Who?"
His gaze was darker than thunder.
"Your father."
---
Cliffhanger: As Elena reels from the revelation, her phone lights up. A private number. One message.
"He can't protect you from all of us. Tick tock."
---
Questions for the Readers:
Who is the man with the scar—an enemy or a forgotten ally?
What dark secrets bind Adrian to Elena's family?
Is Adrian truly her enemy… or the only one willing to bleed for her?