Chapter 10 – Beneath His Vows
9:17 PM — Knight Tower Penthouse
The clink of silver against porcelain was the only sound filling the massive dining room. Elena sat at the far end of the long obsidian table, the white silk gown she wore clinging to her like second skin, delicate and pristine—a disguise of grace for the warstorm inside her.
Adrian sat at the opposite end, wine in one hand, his other tapping rhythmically on the table like he was bored. Or calculating.
"You haven't touched your food," he said, not even looking up.
She forced her fork to move, pushing the delicate grilled seabass around her plate. "I'm not hungry."
He finally looked at her. There was something lethal in his gaze tonight—sharper than before, quieter too.
"Then you're going to learn to be. Because you're mine now. And mine doesn't starve themselves."
Her grip on the fork tightened.
"Don't pretend this is anything other than what it is," she said, eyes locking with his. "You own my father's debts. Not me."
"You signed a contract," he reminded her smoothly, taking a slow sip of wine. "And until the year is up, you're Mrs. Knight. So act like it."
"That paper was coercion."
"It was survival."
His tone left no room for debate. He set his glass down with a finality that echoed down her spine.
Elena pushed her chair back, standing abruptly.
"Where do I sleep?"
Adrian didn't blink. "Your room is next to mine."
"Of course," she muttered, sarcasm coating her voice.
"But tonight," he added, rising slowly, deliberately, "you'll sleep in mine."
Her heart kicked hard in her chest. "Excuse me?"
He walked toward her, every step heavy with unspoken threat and unspoken desire.
"This marriage is a performance," he said, circling her slowly like a predator studying prey. "You think people won't talk? That the staff won't report back to the media, the board, the investors? If you want your father's treatment to continue, you will sleep beside me."
She didn't answer. Couldn't. Her throat was closing.
He leaned down, his breath grazing her ear.
"Don't worry, Elena. I won't touch you. Not until you beg."
Her cheeks flushed with fury and something far more dangerous.
But she didn't step away.
And he didn't move closer.
He was already under her skin.
---
10:05 PM — Adrian's Bedroom
The room was cavernous, dark wood and steel, built like a fortress with windows framing the LA skyline. Elena stood near the entrance, her arms crossed tightly.
Adrian removed his jacket, tossing it onto a chair. Then his cufflinks. Then his watch.
"You can sleep on the bed," he said casually. "I'll take the couch."
That surprised her.
"What? No demand? No commands tonight?"
He shrugged, already unbuttoning his shirt. "What fun is control if it's not earned?"
She turned away before his shirt fell open completely, her heart a riot in her chest.
She climbed into the bed, the silk sheets cool against her skin, every nerve alert. Adrian turned off the lights, letting only the city lights seep through.
Then silence.
She thought he would speak. Thought he would try to push, provoke.
But he didn't.
He stayed quiet on the couch. Watching.
Waiting.
And it was that silence that kept her awake.
---
11:23 PM — Still
Elena couldn't sleep. Not with him so close. Not with her mind spiraling.
Why her?
Why this game?
She turned on her side, facing the balcony.
A memory surfaced—her mother in a hospital bed, whispering through cracked lips: "Love doesn't feel like safety, Elena. It feels like fire."
Was that what Adrian was?
Fire?
Or just the burn after?
---
6:02 AM — Kitchen
Elena walked into the kitchen barefoot, her hair in soft waves, wearing a robe too big for her frame.
To her surprise, Adrian was already there, shirtless, black joggers low on his hips, slicing strawberries.
"You cook?" she asked, crossing her arms.
He didn't look up. "I don't like relying on anyone."
A beat.
"That explains a lot."
He glanced up then, something flickering in his eyes. "You assume too much about me."
"You gave me enough reason to."
He slid a plate toward her. Eggs, fruit, toast. All perfectly arranged.
"Eat."
"What is this? Your way of taming me?"
He tilted his head. "Would you rather I chain you to the wall and leave you starving?"
She blinked.
He was joking.
Maybe.
But his eyes didn't laugh.
---
9:00 AM — Knight Tower Lobby
The press was waiting.
Adrian slid his hand around her waist as they stepped into the lobby. Cameras flashed instantly, questions flew like bullets.
"Mr. Knight! Is it true you married to avoid indictment?"
"Mrs. Knight! Are you in love? Or is this a scandalous contract?"
Adrian leaned close, brushing his lips against Elena's temple.
"Smile, darling," he whispered. "They're vultures. Show them you're already full."
She smiled.
Not because she felt like it.
But because that whisper somehow made her shiver.
And because even in hell, Elena Whitmore refused to kneel.
---
11:10 AM — Whitmore Hospital
They entered through the private entrance.
Her father lay in bed, pale but stable. Machines beeped. The air smelled like antiseptic and lost time.
Elena sat beside him, holding his hand.
"You didn't have to do it," he rasped.
"I know."
"But you did."
Adrian stood near the door, watching silently.
"He's dangerous," her father whispered.
"I know that too."
He tightened his grip weakly. "Then why are you still here?"
She turned to look at Adrian.
He wasn't smiling.
But his eyes were on her.
Always.
And she wasn't sure if she hated or craved that weight.
---
2:00 PM — Knight Legal Office
The lawyer handed Elena a thick folder.
"The prenup, the clause, the silence agreement, and the dissolution plan."
Adrian sat beside her, legs crossed, fingers steepled.
"You can sign it now or later," he said.
Elena opened the folder, flipping through pages. Her eyes landed on a clause:
> In the event of emotional compromise, all conditions void.
She looked up.
"What does this mean?"
Adrian met her gaze.
"It means if you fall for me, Elena—I don't have to let you go."
The room fell silent.
And the air turned thick.
She didn't speak. Didn't sign.
She closed the folder.
And walked out.
---
4:00 PM — Knight Private Gym
Elena found him punching a sandbag, shirtless, sweat dripping down his spine. Each strike brutal. Each movement controlled.
"You put that clause in there for a reason," she said.
He didn't pause.
"Did I?"
"You want me to fall for you."
Strike.
"No."
Strike.
"You want to break me and then own the pieces."
Strike.
He turned, eyes blazing.
"No, Elena. I want you to break on your own... and still crawl back to me."
She stepped back.
He didn't move closer.
Didn't need to.
She was already tangled in the dark web he spun.
And she didn't know how to stop it.
---
11:57 PM — Their Bedroom
They lay on opposite sides of the bed. Silence louder than ever.
Elena stared at the ceiling.
"What happens when the year is over?"
Adrian answered without hesitation.
"If you want to go, you go."
She turned her head. "And if I don't?"
He turned too.
"Then, Elena, you'll never leave."
✦ Questions for the Reader:
💔 Do you think Elena is already beginning to fall into his world—or just losing herself in the performance?
🔥 Is Adrian truly in control... or is he setting himself up for the most dangerous obsession of all?
💍 And if love can't be forced, what happens when it grows in the cracks of fear, lust, and power?