Elena's fingers trembled as she held the keys.
The mansion loomed ahead, tall and gleaming under the morning sun. Every window reflected the city like shards of ice. It was beautiful… terrifying.
She had signed the contract. One year. Fake marriage. All her debts gone.
But now that the moment had come, reality hit her like a punch to the chest.
"Am I really doing this?" she whispered to herself.
The door opened before she could knock.
A tall figure stood there. Adrian Volkov. His suit was dark, perfect. Hair slicked back. Eyes cold, sharp, impossible to read.
"You're late," he said simply.
"I… I'm on time," she stammered.
He didn't reply. He stepped aside, letting her in, but the way he looked at her made her feel… small. Like she had wandered into a world she didn't belong to.
The mansion was enormous and just wow.
Marble floors, chandeliers, walls lined with expensive art , everything screamed wealth. But it wasn't welcoming. It was… a cage.
"Welcome home," Adrian said. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it.
Elena nodded, swallowing her nerves. "I… thank you," she said softly.
He raised an eyebrow. "This isn't about gratitude. It's a contract. You live here. You follow a few rules. That's it."
She nodded again, feeling the weight of every word.
A woman appeared from the hallway. Tall, stylish, with eyes sharp enough to cut glass.
"Vanessa," Adrian introduced. "She'll show you to your room and explain the house rules."
Vanessa's gaze flicked over Elena like she was inspecting a stray animal. "This way," she said coldly.
Elena followed silently, trying not to show how intimidated she felt. Every step echoed through the mansion like a warning.
Her room was large, too large.
A king-sized bed with silk sheets. A walk-in closet that could fit her old apartment twice. A balcony overlooking the city.
She sat on the edge of the bed, feeling completely out of place.
"Unpack," Vanessa said, dropping a small suitcase on the floor. "Tomorrow, you start your role. Don't be late."
Elena bit her lip, trying to hold back a sigh.
This wasn't just a house. It was a stage. And she was expected to perform perfectly.
That night, Elena stood on the balcony, looking at the city lights.
The wind brushed her hair, but it didn't ease the tension coiling inside her chest.
One year. One contract. One stranger who now held her future in his hands.
And somewhere deep inside… she felt the first spark of fear and terror.
Not just fear of the unknown.
Fear of Adrian Volkov.
Because he was nothing like she expected.
And she knew, with a sinking certainty, that surviving this marriage even a fake one would take more than courage.
It would take every bit of strength she had… and maybe some she didn't know she possessed.