The door locked behind them with a sound that echoed too loudly.
Ivy flinched.
Not because she was afraid of the room—but because of what the sound meant.
No exits.
No witnesses.
No pretending this wasn't real.
Lucien removed his cufflinks slowly, deliberately, as though the world outside hadn't just declared her his wife. He placed them on the marble counter with surgical precision.
"You'll take the room on the left," he said without looking at her.
Ivy blinked. "That's it?"
Lucien turned. One eyebrow lifted. "Were you expecting something else?"
Her jaw tightened. "You made the world believe we're married."
"And?"
"And now you're acting like I don't exist."
His gaze sharpened. "You exist exactly where I need you."
The words cut deeper than she expected.
She dropped her bag at her feet. "You don't get to control how this works behind closed doors."
Lucien stepped closer.
The air changed instantly.
"I control everything behind closed doors," he said quietly. "That's why you're safe."
She laughed—a brittle, humorless sound. "You call this safe?"
"Yes."
"From what?" she demanded.
Lucien stopped an inch away from her.
"From the people who were waiting for you to disappear."
Her breath caught. "What people?"
He held her gaze.
Then he did something far more dangerous than threatening her.
He said nothing.
Silence wrapped around them like a blade.
"Who sent the message?" Ivy asked suddenly.
Lucien's eyes flicked to her phone still clutched in her hand.
"I told you not to speak unnecessarily."
"Someone warned me," she pressed. "They said marrying you would end badly."
A slow smile touched Lucien's lips.
Not amused.
Interested.
"Good," he said.
Her stomach dropped. "Good?"
"It means they're watching," he replied. "It means this marriage is already working."
Ivy took a step back. "You're using me as bait."
"Yes."
The honesty hit harder than any lie.
"You could've told me," she whispered.
"No," Lucien said. "You would've refused."
Her back hit the wall.
Lucien placed one hand beside her head—not touching her, not trapping her, but close enough to feel his presence pressing in.
"Listen carefully," he said. "No one harms you without going through me first."
"That doesn't make you my savior."
"I'm not trying to be."
His voice dropped lower. "I'm your warning."
A shiver ran through her.
"Why me?" she asked again, her voice barely steady. "Out of everyone in this city—why me?"
Lucien studied her face like he was searching for something long buried.
"Because," he said slowly, "you were there."
Her heart skipped. "Where?"
"That night."
Cold spread through her veins.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You will," Lucien replied. "Eventually."
He stepped back, breaking the invisible tension.
"Your room," he said. "Security cameras cover every corridor. The doors lock automatically at midnight."
"That sounds like a prison."
Lucien turned toward the window, the city lights reflecting in his eyes. "It's a fortress."
"For you," she shot back.
"For us," he corrected.
She stared at him. "This isn't a marriage."
Lucien didn't turn.
"No," he agreed. "It's a countdown."
Her chest tightened. "To what?"
Lucien finally looked at her again.
"To the truth," he said. "And when it comes out, Ivy… someone is going to bleed."
The words settled like a curse.
She moved past him toward the bedroom door, her hands trembling.
"Lucien," she said without turning.
"Yes?"
"You don't scare me."
His voice followed her, calm and lethal.
"You should be scared of the day you stop hating me."
She froze.
Then she walked into the room and shut the door.
On the other side, Lucien remained where he was.
Watching.
Waiting.
And certain of one thing—
The first night had ended.
But the war had just begun.