Love is trust… until it starts to feel like a trap.
The day started too quiet.
Even the house seemed to listen.
Darian had gone downstairs before I woke properly. I could hear his voice faintly..talking to someone. Maybe on the phone. Maybe to one of the guards.
The air smelled like burnt coffee and lemon polish. The kind of morning smell that should feel normal, but didn't.
I pulled on a white dress from the wardrobe. Everything in there looked like it was picked for me.. perfect size, perfect color, still with tags.
Like someone already knew I'd come.
When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. The bride of Lagos's most powerful man… and the most secretive.
I found him in the dining room.
He was already dressed... black shirt, sleeves rolled up, silver watch catching the light. Calm, controlled, unreadable.
"Morning," I said softly.
He looked up and smiled. "You look lovely."
"Thanks."
He gestured for me to sit. "Eat. You'll need strength."
"For what?" I asked, forcing a laugh.
He didn't answer right away. "You'll see."
Breakfast passed mostly in silence. The only sounds were cutlery and the slow tick of the wall clock.
I could feel his eyes on me sometimes... not watching, studying.
When he finished, he wiped his hands and stood.
"Come," he said.
I followed him through the house.
It was bigger than I thought... glass walls, dark marble, too quiet. Every hallway looked the same, like it could swallow a person whole.
We passed the door from last night. The locked one.
Darian stopped there.
"This is the room I told you about," he said.
My pulse quickened. "You said it was storage."
He smiled faintly. "It is. But it's also more than that."
He took out a small black key from his pocket and unlocked it.
The door opened with a soft creak.
The air inside was cold....
At first, all I saw were boxes stacked neatly on metal shelves.... Old files.... Equipment....then I noticed the wall...
It was covered with screens.
Dozens of them, showing camera feeds...every part of the house.
The living room. The kitchen. The garden.
The bedroom.
I froze.
He watched me carefully. "Security," he said simply.
"Security?" I repeated, my voice trembling.
"For protection. You're my wife now. You should be safe."
My stomach twisted. "Then why… why are some of these showing rooms I've never seen?"
His gaze sharpened slightly. "Because this house has many rooms."
I looked again.... the feeds showed corridors, stairwells, and a few rooms that looked… old. Empty.
Then, one screen caught my attention.
A woman's face. Blurry. Pale. She was sitting in a corner, in what looked like a cell.
"Who is that?" I whispered.
Darian didn't answer immediately. He just turned off the screen with a click.
"No one you need to worry about," he said finally.
"That's a person....
He turned to me, eyes calm but cold. "Adanna."
The way he said my name made me stop talking.
"This house keeps memories," he said quietly. "Some are better left unseen."
He closed the door again and locked it.
I stood frozen, heart racing.
When he turned away, I caught my reflection in the polished surface of a nearby picture frame... I looked pale, small.
He smiled again, gentle this time. "You're shaking."
"I'm fine," I lied.
He reached for my hand. His fingers were warm, steady. "You don't need to be afraid of me."
"I'm not," I whispered.
He leaned closer. "Then trust me."
The rest of the day passed like a blur.
He took me around the house... the library, the balcony, the garden with white roses that looked too perfect to be real.
Everywhere we went, there were cameras. Small ones, tucked neatly into corners.
At lunch, he sat beside me instead of across. Close enough that his shoulder brushed mine.
"You're quiet," he said.
"Just tired."
He smiled. "You'll get used to the house. It can be… overwhelming."
When he stepped out later for a business meeting, I finally had a moment alone.
The guards downstairs didn't look at me, but I knew they saw everything.
I slipped into the hallway again, heart pounding.
The locked door tempted me like a whisper.
I pressed my ear against it. Nothing.
Then I noticed something new, a small keyhole camera blinking faintly near the floor.
He was watching it even when he wasn't here.
I backed away fast.
But as I turned to leave, I saw movement, just for a second...under the door.
A shadow.
Someone was inside.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
Every creak in the house sounded like a whisper.
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, until I heard a sound again, faint footsteps in the hallway.
I waited.
They stopped right outside the door.
Then, a slip of paper slid underneath.
I froze.
I waited until the steps faded before picking it up.
It was small, folded twice.
My name was written in shaky handwriting.
Inside, only five words..
"Don't trust him. I'm next."
I sat up, shaking. My hands felt cold.
The handwriting was messy but definitely human... rushed, scared.
I turned the note over. There was something written at the bottom corner, a tiny mark, a number.
#4
Four.
Fourth what? Fourth person? Fourth wife?
I didn't know.
But I knew one thing.... I couldn't stay still anymore.
I looked at Darian's sleeping figure beside me. Peaceful. Innocent.
Too perfect.
My heart beat faster.
If someone was trapped in that room… if that message was real… then I had to find out before it was too late.
By dawn, I had a plan.
When he left for his morning meeting, I'd go back.
Find the woman. Find the truth.
But when morning came, Darian didn't leave.
He stood by the window, talking quietly on the phone. His tone was calm, but his eyes were dark.
"Yes," he said. "Tonight. No delays."
He turned and met my gaze.
Then he smiled... the kind of smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Get dressed, Adanna," he said softly. "We're going somewhere special."
The world felt smaller after that.
The note burned in my hand, hidden under the pillow.
And as I followed him out the door, down the long hall filled with cameras, I knew two things for sure....
Whatever waited behind that locked door wasn't done.
And neither was I.