Ariana barely slept.
The guest room was bigger than her entire apartment back home.
The bed was soft, the air smelled faintly of cedarwood, and the night was so quiet it felt like she was inside a completely different world.
But her heart didn't rest.
She had married a stranger.
Not just any stranger
the most feared man in Arrendellia.
And she still didn't know why he needed her.
By morning, Ariana dressed in her simple work clothes: a white blouse and black skirt. She slipped on her worn shoes, tied her hair back, and opened the door and nearly screamed.
Damian was standing there.
Tall.
Silent.
Perfect posture.
Still masked.
He looked like a shadow guarding her door.
"G-Good morning…" Ariana whispered.
His voice was deep, calm, smooth.
"Breakfast is ready."
"I—I usually eat simple food. I can cook my own—"
"You are my wife," he said, turning slightly.
"You eat in my home."
She swallowed.
He led her downstairs to a dining room with a table long enough for twenty people. A full breakfast was prepared—eggs, fresh bread, fruit, tea.
Ariana blinked.
"I can't eat all this—"
"It's not all for you," he replied.
"It's for us."
Us.
The word hit her strangely.
She sat hesitantly.
Damian remained standing, watching her.
"Aren't you eating?" she asked.
"I will."
He finally sat across from her.
His mask reflected the morning light, making him look even more intimidating. But his movements were quiet, controlled, almost gentle.
Ariana took a small bite.
Her stomach growled loudly.
She froze.
Damian's lips curved—just slightly.
Was that… a smile?
"Eat," he said simply.
She obeyed, cheeks pink.
The Rules
When breakfast ended, Ariana stood.
"I'm going to work now."
Damian placed a file on the table.
"You won't."
Ariana blinked.
"What? Why?"
He looked at her like it was obvious.
"You are my wife."
"Yes, but I still need my salary. I have bills. I have my grandmother. I—"
"I will take care of everything."
"No!" she interrupted quickly.
"I can't take your money. I won't become someone who depends on you."
Damian inhaled slowly.
Most people trembled when they raised their voices at him.
Ariana did not.
He leaned back slightly.
"Then here are the rules."
Her heart thumped.
"Rule one," he said.
"You live here. Always. No exceptions."
Ariana nodded.
"Rule two," he continued.
"You may refuse my money, name, or luxury. I won't force them on you."
Relief washed over her.
"And rule three…" he paused intentionally, his voice dropping.
"You tell me if you are in trouble. Anything. Anytime. I don't want surprises."
Ariana blinked.
"Why would I be in trouble?"
Damian didn't answer.
Because he knew the elites would attack her.
He knew how vicious his world could be.
He knew the moment she stood beside him, she became a target.
But Ariana remained blissfully unaware.
Going to Work
"I still need to go to work," she insisted gently.
"At least… for today. Please."
Damian stared at her for several seconds.
Ariana held her breath.
Finally, he turned away.
"Fine."
She exhaled softly.
"But I'm taking you," he added.
"What? No! I can take the bus—"
Damian looked at her like she'd spoken nonsense.
"You are my wife," he repeated.
"You do not take buses."
Before she could argue, a black car pulled to the front door.
He opened the door for her himself—something no one in Arrendellia had ever seen him do for any woman.
Ariana stepped inside carefully.
Damian joined her.
The drive was quiet, but not uncomfortable.
Halfway there, Ariana whispered,
"You don't have to do this."
"Yes," he said softly.
"I do."
At Her Workplace
When they reached the small office building where she worked as a clerk, Ariana flushed with embarrassment.
People stared as the black car stopped outside.
Damian stepped out first, towering, masked, terrifying.
Her coworkers froze.
Ariana nearly melted into the ground.
"Y-You didn't have to get out!"
Damian turned to her.
"Your workplace should know who you are."
"W-Who I am?"
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"My wife."
Ariana forgot how to breathe.
He touched her back—just lightly—and she felt heat travel up her spine.
"Have a safe day," he murmured.
She nodded, flustered beyond belief.
As she walked into the building, whispers exploded behind her.
"Who was that?"
"That car! That mask!"
"No way… that was THE Damian Steele!"
"Ariana?! Married to HIM?! Never!"
"She's so plain!"
"She doesn't deserve him!"
Ariana felt her cheeks burn.
She had no idea her life was about to change completely.
Meanwhile…
Damian stood outside for a moment, watching the small building.
His assistant approached.
"Sir, should I arrange protection?"
Damian's voice was cold steel.
"Yes. Quietly. Anyone who touches her…"
He paused.
"…won't have a job tomorrow."
"Yes, sir."
Damian stared at the entrance where Ariana had disappeared moments ago.
She didn't know his power.
She didn't know his world.
She didn't know the danger of being Mrs. Steele.
But he knew one thing with absolute certainty:
He would protect her.
Even if she never learned how much she needed protecting.