Chapter 11 : A House with No Doors
9:45 AM – Knight Tower, Los Angeles
The floor-to-ceiling windows glared down on the entire city, but Elena only saw her own reflection—a girl dressed in silk and gold, sitting on a throne she never wanted.
Adrian Knight's penthouse was nothing short of opulence carved in shadow. Dark marble floors. Black leather furniture. A fireplace that hissed without flame. Even the air carried his signature scent—smoky oud and the unmistakable chill of control.
Elena sat curled into one corner of the L-shaped sofa, her robe slipping from one shoulder, a crystal glass of untouched orange juice balanced in her hand. Her body had stopped trembling hours ago, but her mind hadn't.
She'd signed the contract.
She'd married him.
And now, she was in his home.
Adrian hadn't spoken to her since the night before, when he'd said, "You're mine now. Not a bride. Not a wife. An investment."
Elena gripped the glass harder.
He hadn't come to their bedroom. He hadn't even looked at her since.
Was she supposed to be relieved—or insulted?
The silence broke when the elevator doors whispered open.
Her spine stiffened.
Adrian walked in without a glance, a phone pressed to his ear, his black shirt rolled at the sleeves, veins cutting down his forearms like blue lightning. He was speaking in clipped, calculated tones.
"Close the deal. If he resists, remind him of what happened to Denton Holdings."
A pause.
"And make sure Whitmore Pharmaceuticals stays afloat. For now."
Her chest clenched at the sound of her family name.
Adrian's eyes flicked to her, cold, unreadable.
"Yes," he said into the phone. "I have what I wanted."
Then he hung up.
Elena stood, straightening the robe that still felt like shackles.
"What happens now?"
He walked past her, pouring himself black coffee.
"Now," he said, sipping, "you play the perfect wife."
Her laughter was hollow.
"Perfect? That wasn't in the contract."
He turned slowly, walking back until he stood a breath away.
"You don't have to love me," he said. "You don't even have to like me. But in public, you will smile. You will stand beside me. You will defend my name."
His gaze dropped briefly to her collarbone, then back to her eyes.
"And in private, you will never embarrass me."
"What if I do?"
His voice dipped to a warning.
"Then I will destroy everything you just saved."
___
10:03 AM – Knight Tower, Guest Wing
Elena sat before the vanity in her new room. Her real room. Apparently, sharing a bed wasn't on the agenda. Not yet, at least.
A makeup artist dusted her cheeks with something light and peachy. A hair stylist pinned her curls into an elegant knot.
"You're stunning," the woman said softly.
Elena didn't reply.
Adrian had made it clear: there would be cameras today. A lunch with investors. A welcome dinner. A fake marriage to perform for the public.
The man hadn't given her a choice.
But that didn't mean she wouldn't play the game.
___
12:35 PM – The Orchid Room, Downtown Los Angeles
Adrian and Elena arrived in a sleek Bentley, the kind that whispered money and power in every slow turn.
The restaurant had been rented out. Paparazzi were kept outside with velvet ropes and armed men. Inside, tables gleamed beneath crystal chandeliers, and every eye turned to them.
Adrian held out his arm. "Smile now, Mrs. Knight."
She took it. Their bodies aligned like a perfect puzzle that cut skin instead of fitting.
As they walked in, Adrian leaned closer.
"Say something witty when you meet the board. Pretend you know the game."
She didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
Because the moment she sat down at the circular table filled with tycoons and billionaires, she turned to the man beside her and purred, "Darling, did you remember to tell them how you stole me from a life of poetry and art just to trap me in boardrooms?"
A beat of silence.
Then a low chuckle rippled through the table.
Adrian's jaw ticked.
She just smiled.
-___
3:10 PM – Car Ride Back to Knight Tower
The silence was thick.
Adrian drove this time.
Elena stared out the window, legs crossed, heels tapping the floor.
"Was that performance good enough for you?" she said without looking.
"You impressed them."
"And pissed you off."
He said nothing.
She turned to face him fully.
"Why do you hate me?"
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
"I don't hate you."
"Then why use me? Why marry me when you clearly despise my family?"
His eyes flashed.
"Because your father owes me."
"So I'm currency."
"You're leverage."
The word cut deeper than she expected.
She looked away.
___
5:00 PM – Knight Tower, Private Library
Elena wandered alone, her fingers tracing the spines of books she'd never read. She wanted to scream, to run, to set every curtain on fire just to watch something burn that wasn't her future.
A book lay open on the desk—Adrian's.
Handwritten notes in the margins. Diagrams. Names she recognized. Names she didn't.
She stared at one word, underlined three times:
VENDETTA
___
6:12 PM – Knight Tower, Balcony Overlooking the City
"You're not supposed to be in my office."
Elena turned. Adrian stood in the doorway, his tie loosened, his expression unreadable.
"You left the door open."
"You read the file."
"I saw one word. Vendetta."
A beat.
He stepped out, joining her at the railing.
"I built my empire on ruin. Not legacy. Every person in that file tried to end me. I ended them first."
"And my father?"
"Was collateral."
Elena leaned in.
"And me? What am I?"
He stared at her for a long moment.
Then, finally, he said, "To be determined."
___
Cliffhanger Ends Here
Reader Questions:
📢 Is Elena truly trapped, or is she quietly finding power in her role?
🕵️♀️ What is Adrian really hiding in those files?
💔 Will this marriage of convenience twist into a darker obsession—or something neither of them expects?