Episode 10
The morning sun streamed through the tall glass windows of Blackwood Mansion, casting golden rays across the cold marble floor. Aria stirred awake, her body curled in the corner of the king-sized bed, still wrapped in the silk sheets Lucien had tossed her the night before.
It had been three days since their marriage contract had begun. Three days of cold silences, tense dinners, and brief, cutting encounters with the Devil CEO himself.
Lucien Blackwood was a man wrapped in mystery. He vanished into his study for hours, barely acknowledged her presence, and yet—she could feel his eyes on her. Always watching. Always calculating.
Today, she was determined to find answers.
Aria stepped out of bed and walked barefoot across the room. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Mom: Your brother's fever broke. The doctors say he'll be okay. Thank you, Aria.
She smiled faintly, relief washing over her chest. This is why I'm here, she reminded herself. This is worth it… right?
Still, something inside her whispered otherwise.
She freshened up, brushed her hair into a neat bun, and picked a modest cream dress from the wardrobe. Lucien had given her full access to everything she needed—clothes, accessories, even a sleek black credit card.
But never access to him.
She stepped out of the room and made her way downstairs. The mansion was eerily silent as always. Only the faint ticking of a grandfather clock filled the air.
Suddenly, she heard voices from the study.
She moved closer.
Lucien's voice.
"…I don't care what it takes. Find him. If that bastard thinks he can show his face in this city again—"
Pause.
A second man replied, voice hushed. "Understood, sir. But if the media—"
"I'll deal with the media," Lucien snapped. "Do what I pay you for."
Aria's breath hitched.
Lucien rarely raised his voice, but when he did—it was pure ice.
She took a step back.
But the door creaked.
The voices stopped.
The door flung open—and there he stood.
Lucien Blackwood. Towering. Furious.
His eyes landed on her.
They narrowed.
"Eavesdropping, Mrs. Blackwood?" His tone was velvet—deadly velvet.
Aria swallowed hard. "I… I was just walking past."
"Were you?" he asked, stepping closer. "Because it sounded like you were trying to listen to something that doesn't concern you."
She backed up. "I swear I wasn't—"
Lucien raised a brow.
"Rule number one, Aria. You don't go near my study. Ever."
Her lips parted. "You said I'm your wife. Am I supposed to live in this house like a ghost?"
"You signed the contract. You agreed to my terms."
She looked up, fire suddenly sparking in her chest. "And what about your terms, Lucien? Are they all about control? Or are you just afraid I'll uncover your secrets?"
Silence.
Then—he laughed. A cold, cruel laugh.
"You think I'm afraid of you?"
"I think you're hiding something."
He stepped even closer, the air between them charged.
"You want to know my secrets, little dove?" he whispered. "You wouldn't survive them."
"Try me."
Lucien's jaw clenched. For a second, his mask slipped—and she saw it. Pain. Deep. Raw. Ancient.
"I've buried men for asking fewer questions than you," he murmured.
"I'm not one of your employees, Lucien."
"No. You're my property."
Her hand flew on instinct—slap.
The sound echoed across the marble hall.
Lucien stood still. His face turned, cheek red.
Aria's chest heaved.
"I am not your property," she said softly, tears stinging her eyes.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then… he chuckled.
Not cruelly. But bitterly.
"Maybe you're not as soft as I thought."
He turned away. "Go back to your room, Aria."
She didn't move.
Lucien paused, still facing away.
"My mother was murdered," he said suddenly.
Aria froze.
"I was eight. She died in this house. Shot in the chest. My father brought her body into the ballroom and let it bleed out on the marble while he poured himself a drink."
She gasped.
Lucien continued.
"Three weeks later, he married his mistress. I ran away when I was thirteen. Built my first company at seventeen. Burned every bridge to the Blackwood family name. Then I returned… and buried him in the same place he let my mother die."
Aria's knees weakened.
He turned back to her, eyes cold. "That's the man you married, Aria. Now tell me—do you still want to know my secrets?"
Her voice trembled. "Why… why did you marry me?"
Lucien walked up and stopped inches from her face.
"Because I needed a wife who wouldn't ask questions. Who wouldn't fall in love with me. And who would leave when the time comes."
He leaned in. "Don't be foolish, Aria. This is just a transaction. Nothing more."
Then he walked away.
Leaving her in stunned silence.
—
That night, Aria couldn't sleep.
Her mind echoed with his words. My mother was murdered… I buried him in the same place…
The man she had married wasn't just powerful. He was broken. Haunted. And hiding more than anyone knew.
She stepped onto the balcony and stared at the stars.
For the first time, she didn't feel fear.
She felt something worse—curiosity.
Who are you, Lucien Blackwood?
And why do I feel like I've only seen the beginning of the storm?
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