Evelyn
The sunlight filtered through the curtain.
Evelyn slowly opened her eyes. For a second, she forgot where she was. The bed was too big. The room was massive and almost felt like empty with a minimal furniture . She sat up, wrapping the blanket around herself, heart pounding with that familiar, hollow nervousness. She stared outside the window. Alexander's car was not there. She sighed .
Yesterday still felt like a dream for her. But it wasn't a dream. The ring on her finger was real.
So was the ache in her chest.
She sat there for a few minutes, staring blankly ahead, trying to figure out what to do next. What was she supposed to do. Wait around like a kept wife? Be grateful she was being ignored instead of being used?
Her cheeks flushed as she remembered last night. The cold way Alexander had shown her the bedroom. The way he hadn't even looked at her after the vows. And yet despite it all he hadn't touched her.
And for that she was grateful. Tremendously grateful.
But did he have to be so cold? So dismissive? She hadn't asked for this either.
Evelyn exhaled slowly, then rose from the bed. She went to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and let the warm water run down her back, trying to wash away the the fear and weight of a future she never wanted.
Her luggage had already arrived. Another thing she is grateful for Alexander .
After dressing quietly she packed her college books in her worn tote bag. Her eyes landed on the mirror. The girl staring back at her looked calm, composed, definitely not looked like someone who got married just yesterday.
Evelyn stepped out of the penthouse without looking back.
She had classes to attend. Assignments due. A life she wasn't ready to give up just because someone had decided to trade her like property.
She didn't know what kind of man Alexander Asimov really was but she did know this: if he thought she'd quietly disappear into the role of his silent, obedient wife then he was in for a surprise.
Alexander
I left the penthouse before dawn, just after her luggage arrived.
It was too small for a newlywed. One suitcase and a backpack, as if she was just visiting and not settling into her new life. But I didn't dwell on it. Her baggage , literal or emotional was none of my concern. I had more pressing matters to handle.
By the time I stepped into the Asimov Global headquarters, most of the staff looked up in surprise. Some even paused mid-task.
Of course they were surprised.
It was the morning after my wedding. I was supposed to be somewhere remote, sipping champagne with a glowing wife and a smug smile.
Instead, I was in a steel tower .
"Get Dmitri," I said to my assistant without looking up from my desk. "Now."
Minutes later, Dmitri stood before me,quick as always.
"Is it done?" I asked.
He didn't need clarification.
"Yes, sir. All copies of the footage have been erased from Mikhail's devices. We double checked every endpoint and backup server. There's nothing left."
For the first time in days, I let out a slow breath. The weight on my shoulders didn't lift but it shifted. It was manageable now.
"Good," I said.
And then, for the next ten hours, I became what I was always meant to be, Alexander Asimov, the man behind the empire. No wedding, no girl, no weakness. I buried myself in finalizing the quarterly strategy, restructuring the failing subsidiaries, and making plans for the overseas expansion.
It wasn't until late evening, just as I was reaching for my blazer, that Dmitri appeared again.
"We sent a personal maid and cook to the penthouse earlier today," he began.
I nodded. "And?"
"They said your wife wasn't there."
I glanced at my watch. "She's probably with her friends."
"No, I checked. She was at her college. She didn't return home after classes. It's getting late and the penthouse is far from her campus. It may not be safe for her to travel back alone."
I paused.
Evelyn.
I hadn't thought about where her college was. Hadn't thought about how she would get home. I assumed… she'd figure it out.
But she hadn't.
She was still just a student. And the city wasn't kind to girls traveling alone after dark. Especially not ones who looked like her . Small, soft, unsure.
Damn it.
Without another word, I grabbed my coat.
"Get the car," I said.
Because whether I liked it or not, Evelyn Martinez was now my responsibility.
And I didn't leave my responsibilities exposed.
By the time I reached the college, the gates were already flooding with students. I stayed in the car, eyes scanning the crowd.
But I didn't see her.
And that's when the ridiculousness of it hit me. I didn't even have her number. I didn't know her schedule, her course. Hell, I barely knew wheret she studied. Aside from her name and the fact that I married her, she was a complete stranger.
That realization sat in my chest like a brick.
Minutes dragged.
Then finally I saw her.
She was walking out of the main building, head down, clutching her tote bag . That same brown hair fell over her shoulder. She was alone. No friends. No laughter.
And then her eyes met mine.
For a second, there was recognition. Shock. But then, to my utter irritation, she looked away and kept walking. Right past me. Like I wasn't even there.
I opened the door, got out, and caught up in a few long strides. "Evelyn," I said sharply.
She didn't stop.
I reached out and took her wrist "Get in the car, I'm being nice."
She looked up at me. Those almond eyes . But she said nothing. No protests. She just walked to the door I opened for her and got in without a word.
Silent treatment.
Perfect.
I slid into the driver's seat and started the car, the engine humming between us. The tension was thick, and I hated how aware I was of it.
I glanced at her sideways. "You know, I don't think I have such an ugly face that you have to ignore me in public."
She didn't respond immediately. She just looked out the window, like the world beyond the glass was more important than anything I had to say.
It was infuriating.
Because suddenly I wasn't sure who was really in control here anymore me, or the quiet girl I had underestimated.