Chapter 6 – A Wife in Name Only

Ivy barely slept that night.

Damon’s words echoed in her mind.

"You learn how to be my wife."

She wasn’t his wife. Not truly. Not in the way that mattered. But he had made one thing clear,there was no escape.

By morning, the mansion was already awake. Servants moved around quietly, heads down, avoiding eye contact. She noticed it last night too,no one dared look at Damon for too long. Fear. Respect. Maybe both.

Ivy sighed and stepped out of her room, the silky robe draping over her nightgown. As she made her way downstairs, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air.

She wasn’t sure what she expected, but the sight of Damon already sitting at the dining table, sipping his coffee, made her hesitate.

He was dressed in a crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled up, exposing the tattoos on his forearm. His other hand held a newspaper, though she doubted he was actually reading it.

"You're awake." His voice was casual, as if they were just a normal couple having breakfast.

Ivy swallowed and walked toward the table. A servant immediately pulled out a chair for her, but she hesitated.

Damon smirked. "Afraid I’ll bite?"

She ignored him and sat down. A plate was placed in front of her eggs, toast, and a side of fruit. Her appetite was nonexistent, but she picked up the fork anyway.

For a moment, silence settled between them. Only the quiet clinking of utensils filled the space.

Then, without looking up, Damon spoke. "I have a business meeting tonight. You’ll attend with me."

Ivy’s grip on her fork tightened. "No, I won’t."

His eyes lifted to hers, sharp and calculating. "Yes, you will."

She shook her head. "I don’t belong in your world, Damon."

A slow smile curved his lips, but there was no warmth in it. "You think you have a choice, Ivy?"

Her stomach twisted.

"You’re my wife," he continued, taking a sip of his coffee. "That means you stand by my side. You smile. You act like you belong." He leaned back slightly. "Or would you rather I remind people that you weren’t the intended bride?"

Ivy’s breath hitched.

He wouldn’t… Would he?

Damon tilted his head, as if enjoying her inner conflict. "You’ll be ready by seven."

Ivy dropped her fork onto the plate with a small clang. "You can force me to be here," she said, voice low. "But you can’t force me to be like them."

He chuckled. "We’ll see about that, sweetheart."

And with that, he stood up, adjusting his cuffs before walking away.

Ivy stared at his retreating figure, her heart pounding.

She was trapped.

---

Elena entered the room and shut the door behind her. The cold air from the AC brushed against her skin, but she still felt suffocated.

Her chest tightened. It was happening again.

Slowly, she grabbed her head, her fingers pressing against her temples. Her breath coming in short gasps. The walls of the room felt like they were closing in, the air too thick, too heavy.

Then, the memories crashed over her.

She was twelve again, standing in the middle of the living room. Her father lay on the floor, his face pale, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something. Her hands trembled as she reached for him.

"Dad…?" Her voice had been so small, so scared.

Her mother’s scream tore through the air. "What did you do?"

Before Elena could answer, Ivy rushed in. Her eyes darted between their father’s lifeless body and Elena’s shaking form. Then, her gaze turned cold.

"You killed him."

Elena shook her head violently. "No! I—I didn’t!"

Her mother grabbed her by the arm, yanking her back. "You brought bad luck into this house the day you were born! And now you've taken my husband from me!"

The words cut deeper than any knife.

She remembered how the neighbors came, how rumors filled the house. No one listened to her cries. No one believed her.

Her father was gone.

Her mother hated her.

Ivy despised her.

She was alone.

Elena let out a shaky breath as she curled up on the cold floor. The pain never left. It only hid in, waiting for nights like this to come back and haunt her.

Elena's fingers dug into the carpet as she dragged herself toward the bed. Her head pounded. She needed it to stop. She needed the pain to go away.

Reaching the bedside, she fumbled for her bag with shaky hands. Her vision blurred. She didn’t care what she grabbed. She just needed something,anything,to make it all go away.

Her fingers found a small bottle. Without thinking, she popped the cap open and poured the pills into her mouth. She swallowed them dry, her throat burning.

She slumped against the bed, her body weak, her mind spinning. The room felt distant now, the walls fading into nothing. Her breathing slowed as darkness crept in, wrapping around her like a blanket.

Maybe now, she could finally sleep.

-----

Morning at the Mansion

Alex buttoned his cuff, adjusting his suit in front of the mirror.

"Pack my food," he ordered as he stepped out of his room.

Lily, standing by the dining table, quickly nodded. "Yes, sir."

He grabbed his watch from the counter and slipped it on. "Tell her to meet me at the office."

"Yes, sir," Lily answered again, though she hesitated. She hadn’t seen Elena all morning.

Alex didn’t wait for a reply. He walked out, his long strides echoing in the quiet hallway. The driver opened the car door, and without another word, he got in and left.

Lily sighed, turning back to her work. But as time passed, worry gnawed at her. Why wasn’t Madam down yet?

She climbed the stairs, knocking softly. "Madam?"

No answer.

She knocked again, harder. "Madam, are you awake?"

Silence.

Her stomach twisted. She tried the handle. Locked.

"Madam ivy, please open the door!" she called out, her voice shaking. No response.

Panic surged in her chest. She turned and ran downstairs. "Maria! Something is wrong!"

Maria’s face tensed. "What do you mean?"

"Madam isn’t answering. The door is locked from inside!"

Maria dropped what she was holding. Lily shouted at her"Get the spare key. Now!"

Maria bolted to the storeroom, grabbed the emergency key, and rushed back. Her fingers fumbled as she pushed it into the lock. With a soft click, the door swung open.

Her breath caught.

Elena lay on the floor, pale, motionless. An open pill bottle was beside her.