WEDDED TO A BILLIONAIRE: Love Behind Closed Door

Chapter 2: The Cold Reality

The night air bit at my skin and the noise from the reception felt distant as I stood on the balcony, staring into the darkness. My mind raced with the conversation I had overheard. "Not even her." The words echoed in my head, louder and louder until they were all I could hear. I felt sick.

What had I gotten myself into? The lavish wedding, the grand celebration—it was all a facade. A pretty lie to cover up a deal, a contract. I had married a man I barely knew, and now I was beginning to wonder if I had ever known him at all.

But this was my life now. The luxury, the wealth—it all came at a price. And it wasn't just my freedom that I had traded; it was my happiness. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. I needed to play my part, at least for now.

Days passed in a blur of opulence. I found myself in a world where everything sparkled—golden chandeliers, marble floors, and designer dresses that hung in my new walk-in closet, untouched. Alexander's penthouse was like something out of a dream. The view alone could make you forget your troubles—wide windows opened up to the skyline, the city sprawled beneath me like a glittering sea. But no matter how much beauty surrounded me, I felt trapped.

Alexander's presence in the penthouse was fleeting. He was always in meetings, always busy, always... away. When he was home, we exchanged polite words, but it was like talking to a wall. His face remained unreadable, those cold blue eyes never betraying a single emotion. He was a ghost in our marriage, haunting the halls but never truly there.

I had tried, in those early days, to connect with him. I asked about his day, made suggestions about decorating the penthouse—simple things, hoping to spark some warmth between us. But each attempt was met with the same distant nod, the same detached response. He wasn't interested in making this marriage anything more than what it was—a contract.

One evening, I found myself sitting at the grand dining table, alone, again. The sprawling feast before me felt more like a taunt than a luxury. Everything was impeccable—gourmet dishes prepared by the live-in chef, each plate arranged like a piece of art—but I couldn't enjoy any of it. How could I? My husband hadn't come home for dinner. Again.

I poked at my food, feeling the weight of the silence pressing in on me. The mansion-sized penthouse felt like a hollow shell, its cold marble floors reflecting the emptiness that had become my life. Loneliness gnawed at me, more persistent than any hunger.

Where was Alexander? What was he doing? Was he even thinking about me? I hated how much those questions swirled in my mind, but they were relentless. I married a man whose heart I couldn't reach, and with every passing day, that truth became harder to ignore.

I stood up from the table, leaving the food untouched, and wandered down the hallway to the master bedroom. The oversized bed looked inviting, but the thought of sleeping in it alone sent a shiver through me. I was Mrs. Knight now, yet I had never felt more alone in my life.

That night, I lay awake for hours, my mind replaying the events of the wedding. The cryptic conversation between Alexander and his father lingered, teasing the edges of my thoughts like a dark cloud. "This is all just business." The words stung. I was beginning to understand the cold reality of what that meant. Our marriage wasn't built on love, but on control.

I wasn't just lonely—I was lost.

Suddenly, a knock echoed from the door. I sat up, my heart leaping in my chest. It was well past midnight, and the staff wouldn't disturb me at this hour. I wrapped myself in a silk robe and padded quietly to the door.

When I opened it, no one was there.

But something had been left on the floor—a small, cream-colored envelope. My name was scrawled across the front in neat, unfamiliar handwriting. I picked it up, my fingers trembling slightly as I opened it. Inside was a single piece of paper, and the message was simple:

"You don't know the whole truth. Your marriage is part of a larger plan. Be careful who you trust."

My breath caught in my throat, the weight of those words crashing down on me. A larger plan? What plan? And who was behind this?

I stared at the note, my mind reeling. This couldn't be real. But as I read the words again, I felt a chill run down my spine. My instincts screamed that there was more to this marriage, more to Alexander's coldness, than I had realized.

What had I walked into?

I folded the note carefully and tucked it away, my mind spinning with questions. Who had left it? And what did they mean by a larger plan? The cryptic conversation between Alexander and Richard took on new meaning, layering doubt upon doubt.

My marriage wasn't just a gilded cage—it was a labyrinth of secrets, and I was beginning to see just how deep the shadows went.

And the most terrifying thought of all?

I didn't know who I could trust, Not even my own husband.