Chapter 8:
Elara Quinn didn't cry while Evelyn Blackwood was in the room.
She waited until she was alone.
The door to her bedroom closed softly behind her, and the silence that followed felt heavier than the confrontation itself. She stood there for a long moment, fingers still curled at her sides, replaying every word, every look, every pause.
Do not fall in love with my grandson.
The warning echoed in her mind.
Elara moved slowly, as if her body was catching up to the weight of the day. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at the floor. Her chest felt tight, her breathing shallow, but she refused to let the tears come just yet.
This wasn't new.
Being watched.
Being judged.
Being measured against expectations she never agreed to.
She had lived her whole life like that.
Her phone lay on the bedside table. For a moment, she considered calling her sister. Mara's voice would be warm, grounding. But Elara didn't want to worry her. She didn't want to admit how small she felt inside a house this large.
Instead, she pressed her palms together and breathed.
She reminded herself why she was here.
Security.
Stability.
A chance to breathe without counting every coin.
Still, the fear crept in quietly. What if she failed? What if she became a liability instead of a solution?
A knock sounded.
Elara stiffened. "Come in."
Adrian Blackwood stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His presence filled the room in a way she was slowly learning to recognize — not loud, not aggressive, but impossible to ignore.
"She was hard on you," he said.
Elara gave a small nod. "I expected that."
His gaze lingered on her face, sharper now. "You don't have to impress her."
She almost laughed. "I think I do."
Adrian was silent for a moment. Then, "You only answer to me."
The words should have frightened her. Instead, they confused her.
"And what if I disappoint you?" she asked quietly.
His brow furrowed, as if the question hadn't occurred to him. "You won't."
The certainty in his voice unsettled her more than doubt would have.
Elara looked away. "I don't want to be a problem."
"You're not," he replied immediately.
There it was — that subtle protectiveness, slipping through the cracks of his control.
After he left, Elara lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Her thoughts slowed, settling into something steadier. She couldn't control Evelyn Blackwood. She couldn't control the expectations placed on her.
But she could control herself.
She would learn.
She would endure.
She would not disappear.
As the room darkened, Elara made a quiet promise to herself — she would survive this world, not as a shadow beside Adrian Blackwood, but as herself.
And whatever this marriage became, she would not break.