Chapter Two: The Night I Became His Wife
Marriage, I learned that night, was not sealed with a kiss.
It was sealed with silence.
The drive from the building to Valerio Knight's estate passed in a blur of city lights and unspoken truths. I sat in the back seat of the car, hands folded tightly in my lap, staring out the tinted window while the weight of my new name settled over me like a second skin.
Mrs. Knight.
The word felt foreign. Heavy. Final.
Valerio sat across from me, relaxed, composed, as though he hadn't just rewritten the course of my life with a signature and a pen. His phone buzzed occasionally. He glanced at it, typed short replies, issued quiet commands that reminded me—again—that the man beside me didn't simply run companies.
He ran people.
When the gates to his estate opened, my breath caught.
The mansion stood tall and imposing, surrounded by iron gates and guards who straightened the moment the car approached. This wasn't a home. It was a fortress designed to keep danger out—and secrets in.
"This is where you live now," Valerio said as we stepped inside.
Crystal chandeliers cast soft light over marble floors. Everything was elegant, controlled, untouched by warmth. The staff greeted us respectfully, their eyes lingering on me with curiosity and caution.
They already knew.
I was led upstairs to a bedroom larger than my entire apartment. Silk sheets. Floor-length windows. A bed that looked more ceremonial than inviting.
"This room is yours," Valerio said.
"Ours?" I asked.
"No," he replied calmly. "Yours."
Something twisted in my chest—relief mixed with disappointment I wasn't ready to acknowledge.
"I don't share a bed unless I choose to," he added. "And tonight, I'm choosing restraint."
I nodded, unsure what that said about me—that I felt both safer and strangely disappointed.
When he turned to leave, I stopped him. "Why me?"
He paused at the door, his back still to me. "Because you were desperate enough to say yes," he said. Then, softer, "And strong enough not to beg."
The door closed behind him.
I sank onto the edge of the bed, exhaustion finally crashing over me. My mind drifted back to the life I'd left behind—the tiny apartment, the overdue bills, my mother's tired smile as she pretended she wasn't afraid.
I remembered being sixteen, standing in a hospital hallway while doctors spoke in careful tones. I remembered learning early that love didn't save you—sacrifice did.
That was how I had survived.
That was how I ended up here.
A soft knock came at the door.
Valerio stepped inside again, his jacket removed, sleeves rolled up. The sight of him like that—less armored, more human—made my pulse stutter.
"Did you eat?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"Come."
We sat across from each other at a small table by the window, the city glittering beneath us. For a while, neither of us spoke. Then, quietly, he said, "You should know something."
I looked up.
"I don't touch what I don't protect," he said. "And I don't protect what I don't claim."
His gaze locked onto mine. "You're under my protection now. That means no one hurts you. Ever."
It wasn't a promise made with tenderness.
It was a vow carved in steel.
When he stood to leave again, he paused, eyes darkening as they traveled over me—not with hunger, but with awareness.
"Sleep," he said. "Tomorrow, the world meets Mrs. Knight."
After he left, I lay awake in the massive bed, staring at the ceiling, my heart racing with fear and something dangerously close to anticipation.
I had married a powerful, dominant man whose world thrived on control and violence.
And yet, on our first night as husband and wife, he had chosen restraint.
I didn't know whether that made him more dangerous—or more irresistible.
One thing was certain.
This deal had changed my life.
And somehow, deep down, I knew it was only the beginning.