To Have, To Hold

Chapter 1

Chapter One: The Illusion of Safety

The rain pounded against the large windows of the penthouse, each drop echoing like a relentless reminder of the storm within her heart. Elena stood in the kitchen, her hands trembling as she dried the last of the dishes. The city below was alive with lights and the hum of traffic, but up here, she felt isolated, trapped in a gilded cage that once felt like paradise.

She heard the front door click open, followed by the familiar sound of his heavy footsteps. Her body instinctively tensed, a reflex she'd developed over the past few years. She quickly glanced at the clock—he was home early. Not a good sign.

As Marcus walked into the room, Elena's heart raced. He was impeccably dressed as always, his suit tailored to perfection, the very image of success and power. But beneath the surface, hidden behind those sharp blue eyes, was a darkness that terrified her.

"Why is dinner not ready?" His voice was calm, almost eerily so, but Elena knew better. She quickly moved to the stove, her hands shaking as she reached for the pot of simmering soup.

"It's almost done," she replied softly, trying to keep her voice steady. She knew that anything could set him off—his temper was like a landmine she navigated daily.

But tonight, she wasn't quick enough. Marcus closed the distance between them in three strides, his hand gripping her wrist tightly. The force made her wince, but she bit her lip, refusing to cry out.

"I don't like waiting," he hissed, his breath hot against her ear. "I've told you this before."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

He released her with a shove, causing her to stumble. The pot clattered to the floor, spilling its contents. Elena stared at the mess, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes, but she blinked them back. Crying only made things worse.

Marcus sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair. "Clean this up," he said coldly before turning on his heel and leaving the kitchen.

Elena sank to her knees, her hands trembling as she began to pick up the pieces of shattered porcelain. The warmth of the soup burned her skin, but she didn't care. The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony she felt inside.

As she cleaned, her mind drifted back to a time when things were different—when Marcus was different.

As Elena scrubbed the last of the spilled soup from the floor, her mind wandered back to the early days when Marcus was her savior, her prince charming. She had grown up in a small town, where life was simple, and dreams were often just that—dreams. Her parents worked hard but struggled to make ends meet, and Elena had always been acutely aware of the limitations that came with a lack of money.

When she met Marcus during her first year of college, he was like a dream come true. He was a senior, already established with a promising career path ahead of him, and he came from a world Elena could only imagine. The first time he took her to his family's estate, she was awestruck. The sprawling mansion with its manicured gardens, the art that adorned the walls, the crystal chandeliers that sparkled like stars—it was a life she had never known.

Marcus lavished her with gifts, each more extravagant than the last. A designer handbag she had only seen in magazines, a pair of diamond earrings that caught the light in a way that made her feel like a princess, weekend getaways to luxury resorts where they dined under the stars and danced on private beaches. He introduced her to a world of fine dining, where the menus had no prices, and the chefs prepared dishes that looked like works of art. For the first time, Elena felt what it was like to live without the constant worry of money.

He made her feel special, important. In his world, she was no longer the girl from a small town; she was someone who belonged. He showered her with affection, making her believe she was the center of his universe. Elena was overwhelmed by the sudden change in her life, but she was also deeply grateful. She had nothing when they met—no wealth, no status. Marcus gave her everything she thought she wanted, and in return, she gave him her heart.

Their wedding was a fairy tale, held at an exclusive venue with hundreds of guests, each one more glamorous than the last. She remembered walking down the aisle in a custom-made gown that cost more than her parents' house, the diamond-studded veil shimmering as she moved. The life that followed was filled with luxury. They moved into a penthouse in the heart of the city, with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked a skyline most people only saw in movies.

But as time went on, the luxury became a gilded cage. Marcus's generosity turned into control. He insisted she stop working, claiming that his job could provide for both of them, and that she should enjoy the life he was offering her. At first, it seemed like a dream—no more student loans, no more struggling to make ends meet. She could focus on being a wife, on starting a family. But slowly, she realized that with each gift, with each luxury he bestowed upon her, he was taking something in return—her independence, her voice, her freedom.

Elena had always been independent, proud of her ability to stand on her own. But Marcus's world was seductive, and she found herself losing parts of who she was, little by little. The freedom she thought she had gained was an illusion. The lavish dinners, the trips to Paris, the designer clothes—all of it came with a cost she hadn't anticipated. She had traded her autonomy for a life of wealth, and now, there was no way out.

In the early days, she had justified the small sacrifices, telling herself that this was what it meant to be in a committed relationship. She was willing to bend, to adapt, to fit into the world Marcus offered. But now, as she wiped the last stain from the floor, she realized how far she had bent—how much she had lost of herself in the process.

Marcus provided her with everything she could ever want, except for the one thing she needed most—freedom. And the irony wasn't lost on her. She had come from nothing, and now she had everything, but it all belonged to him. Even her son, Liam, was part of the bargain, a tether that kept her bound to Marcus despite the abuse, despite the fear that gripped her every day.

For a while, their love was perfect. He was her protector, her rock, the man she thought she would spend the rest of her life with. They traveled the world together, shared secrets and dreams, and built a life that seemed straight out of a fairy tale.

But somewhere along the way, things changed. The fairy tale turned into a nightmare. It started with small things—a sharp word, a dismissive comment, a controlling hand. Marcus began to isolate her from her friends and family, convincing her that he was the only one who truly cared for her. And Elena, blinded by love and loyalty, believed him.

Then came the first time he hit her. She remembered the shock, the disbelief, and how he had immediately apologized, blaming stress and promising it would never happen again. She forgave him, desperate to hold onto the love they once had.

But the apologies grew fewer, and the violence more frequent. Now, it was a regular part of her life, a cycle she couldn't escape. She stayed for their son, Liam. Marcus was a good father to Liam, providing him with everything he could ever need. She couldn't bear the thought of taking Liam away from the life of privilege he had with Marcus. And so, she endured the pain, convincing herself that it was the price she had to pay for her son's happiness.

But every night, as she lay in bed beside Marcus, she wondered how much more she could take. How much longer she could pretend that everything was okay when her body was covered in bruises and her soul was shattered.

Elena finished cleaning the mess, her movements robotic, as if she were on autopilot. She straightened up, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders, and forced herself to prepare another dinner, her mind a whirlwind of fear, regret, and a distant, dying hope.

She knew she couldn't keep living like this. But she didn't know how to escape.