Amara’s POV

The night of my wedding felt like a dream I never wished for.

The white dress clung to me, heavy with jewels, but my heart was heavier. The music, the laughter, the endless congratulations... it all blurred together. People smiled, toasted, whispered. But none of it belonged to me.

Across the hall, standing tall in his black suit, was the man I was marrying... Alexander Kane. His presence dominated the room, his broad shoulders and sharp jaw pulling everyone’s eyes to him. But his gaze… his gaze never softened.

To the world, he was the perfect heir, the successful businessman who carried his family name with pride. But to me? He was a stranger. A stranger I was forced to marry.

I knew even before this day that he didn’t want me. The coldness in his voice during our short meetings, the way he never even bothered to ask me about myself. Tonight was no different.

His mother’s tight smile as she looked at me made my stomach twist. His sister’s mocking eyes scanned me from head to toe, as if I didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as them.

“She’s from a middle-class family… why her?”

“I heard his father forced this marriage.”

“She won’t last long in the Kane mansion.”

The whispers around me pricked my skin like tiny blades. I bit the inside of my cheek, holding back the sting in my eyes.

And then suddenly, he was in front of me. Alexander Kane. My husband. My stranger.

His hand wrapped around mine... not gently, not lovingly, but firmly, as though he was making a point. His lips curved into a smile for the guests, but his eyes stayed sharp, cold.

“Smile,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low enough only I could hear. “If you embarrass me tonight, you’ll regret it.”

I looked up at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. And for just a second, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. Not love. Not care. But something raw. Something dangerous.

I forced my lips to curve into a smile, not because he asked me to, but because I refused to let him see me break.

Hours later, when the guests were gone and the mansion grew quiet, I found myself in what was now our bedroom. My chest felt heavy as I stepped inside. The room was vast, decorated in black and gold, but instead of feeling grand, it felt suffocating.

I turned as he entered. His jacket was gone, his tie loosened, his steps slow and deliberate.

“This is your room too now,” he said without looking at me, his voice flat. He poured himself a glass of whiskey from the counter. “Don’t touch anything that’s mine.”

The glass clinked against his lips as he took a sip, his back still facing me.

My fingers gripped the edge of my dress. “I didn’t ask for this marriage,” I whispered, my voice trembling but steady enough to reach him.

He turned then, his eyes locking onto mine, and my breath caught. His stare was dark, intense, like he could strip me of every defense I had.

“Neither did I,” he said coldly, setting the glass down. “But here we are.”

My lips parted, but before I could speak, he stepped closer. The air between us grew heavy, charged.

“Don’t expect anything from me, Amara,” he continued, his tone low and sharp. “This marriage is nothing but duty. You’ll live here, follow the rules, and stay out of my way. Do we understand each other?”

I swallowed hard, but something inside me refused to bend. My chin lifted, my voice stronger than I expected. “And if I don’t?”

His brows arched slightly, as if he wasn’t expecting me to answer back. He moved closer until only a breath separated us. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the faint whiskey on his breath.

“Then,” he whispered, his voice a dangerous growl, “you’ll find out why people fear me.”

A shiver ran down my spine, but I didn’t look away. My heart pounded, but I held his gaze. “Fear isn’t respect, Alexander. And it isn’t love either.”

For a brief second, his expression faltered, his jaw tightening as if my words struck deeper than he wanted to admit.

He pulled back, grabbing his tie with a sharp tug, and muttered, “Stay on your side of the bed. That’s all I want from you.”

I sank onto the edge of the mattress, my eyes burning, but no tears fell. If he wanted me broken, he would never get the satisfaction.

Because one day, I promised myself, this stranger I married would see me.

Not as a burden.

Not as a mistake.

But as the woman who would change his world.

Amara’s POV

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains, forcing my eyes open. For a moment, I forgot where I was. The bed was too large, the sheets too soft, the silence too heavy. Then my gaze landed on the man standing at the dresser... Alexander Kane. My husband.

He was already awake, adjusting the cuffs of his crisp white shirt. His movements were precise, practiced, as if even dressing was a matter of discipline.

“You’re late,” he said without looking at me. His deep voice cut through the silence like a blade.

“I—” My lips parted, words tangling on my tongue. “The alarm—”

“I don’t need excuses.” He finally turned, his dark eyes locking on mine. “From now on, you will wake me on time. You will prepare my clothes, set my breakfast, and make sure I leave this house without a single flaw. Do you understand?”

My stomach tightened, but I lifted my chin. “So I’m your… maid now?”

His jaw flexed. He stepped closer, towering over me, his presence suffocating. “No. You are my wife. Which means you will fulfill your role. In this house, appearances matter. And you, Amara…” His gaze traveled slowly, sharply, as if measuring every inch of me. “…will not make me look weak.”

My breath hitched, but I refused to look away. “Then maybe try treating me like a wife, not a burden.”

For the briefest second, something flickered in his eyes. But just as quickly, it vanished, replaced by that icy stare.

“Get ready,” he ordered, slipping on his jacket. “We’re going downstairs.”

after sometime.

The dining room was vast, a long table draped with white linen, gleaming under the morning light. The Kane family was already seated. His mother, elegant in pearls, her eyes sharp as knives. His younger sister, her lips curved in a smirk the moment she saw me. His cousin lounging lazily, her gaze filled with quiet malice.

And then there were the only two kind faces.. the elder brother and his wife... who smiled softly when our eyes met. A tiny thread of comfort in this cold house.

Alexander pulled out a chair for me.. not gently, but mechanically, as if it was routine. I sat, my heart thundering.

“Well, well,” his sister said sweetly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “So this is the famous bride. She looks… ordinary.”

Laughter spilled from her cousin’s lips. His mother only gave a polite, fake smile. “Amara, dear,” she said, her tone laced with poison, “I do hope you know how to run a household. A Kane household is not like your middle-class one.”

Heat rose to my cheeks, but I kept my expression calm. “I’ll manage,” I said softly, but firmly. “I learn quickly.”

Alexander’s mother tilted her head, as if amused by my quiet confidence. His sister rolled her eyes.

But Alexander? He sat silently beside me, sipping his coffee, not defending me, not correcting them... Just watching.

Something inside me snapped.

“Don’t worry,” I added, my gaze lifting to meet his mother’s directly. “If Alexander trusts me to manage him ” I reached for his tie and straightened it in front of everyone, my hands steady now, my lips curving into a small smile. “then managing the rest of this house won’t be difficult.”

The table fell silent. His sister’s smirk vanished. His mother’s smile stiffened.

Alexander’s hand stilled on his cup. His eyes shifted to me... sharp, burning, unreadable. For a long moment, he said nothing, but the air between us grew heavy, electric.

Finally, he leaned closer, his lips near my ear, his voice a low growl only I could hear.

“Careful, Amara. You don’t know how dangerous it is to play with fire.”

I turned my head slightly, meeting his stare with one of my own. “Maybe I’m not afraid of burning.”

Amara’s POV

The room was too quiet after my words. I had touched his tie, straightened it in front of his entire family, and for the first time, the Kane table had no laughter, no taunts. Only silence.

But silence, I was learning, was far more dangerous than words.

His sister was the first to break it. She leaned back in her chair, her manicured nails tapping the wood lazily. “So bold, aren’t you? Acting like you belong here already. Tell me, Amara, do they teach you this… shamelessness… in your middle-class homes?”

Her cousin giggled, hiding her mouth behind her hand. His mother only sipped her tea slowly, her eyes never leaving me, as if she was dissecting me piece by piece.

I opened my mouth to respond, but Alexander’s voice cut through the air. Cold. Final.

“Enough, Elena.”

His sister froze. I saw the way her jaw tightened, her pride stung. She wasn’t used to being silenced especially not for someone like me.

But then his gaze turned to me. Sharp. Piercing. “And you,” he said, his voice dropping lower, quieter, but somehow harsher. “Don’t mistake silence for approval. I don’t like… displays.”

The words burned. My chest ached, but I forced myself to smile politely at his mother and sister, as if their words hadn’t pierced me already. As if his hadn’t just crushed me.

His brother’s wife soft-eyed, gentle reached for the teapot. “Amara, would you like some more?” she asked kindly, her small attempt to ease the tension.

“Thank you,” I whispered, grateful for the lifeline.

But Elena wasn’t done. She leaned across the table, her lips curling. “Tell me, Amara. When you woke this morning, did you struggle to find your place? Or are you already used to being a Kane’s servant?”

Heat rushed to my ears, but I steadied my breathing. Stay calm, Amara. Don’t let her win.

Before I could answer, Alexander’s mother set her cup down with a soft clink. “Elena,” she murmured, “don’t lower yourself. Our new daughter-in-law is… inexperienced. She’ll learn.”

The fake sweetness in her voice made me clench my fists under the table. She wasn’t defending me. She was reminding me of my place.

I forced a small, careful smile. “I may be inexperienced,” I said softly, “but I’ve never been afraid of learning.”

Elena scoffed, rolling her eyes. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

After breakfast, Alexander rose, fixing his jacket. Without a word, he started walking away. Instinctively, I stood too, but his mother’s voice stopped me.

“Amara,” she said smoothly, “a word.”

Alexander paused, glancing back. His eyes flickered between us, unreadable. Then he nodded once, coldly, and left the room.

The moment he was gone, the air shifted. Elena smirked. The cousin’s eyes glittered.

His mother stood gracefully, her pearls catching the light. “Listen carefully, Amara. You may have won a moment at my table this morning, but don’t mistake that for victory. In this house, you will not outshine us. You will serve your role quietly, or you will regret it.”

Something inside me trembled, but I met her eyes with a quiet, steady strength. “If being silent is what it takes to survive here… then I suppose I’ll disappoint you.”

Her lips thinned, a warning flashing in her gaze.

I turned and walked out, my steps shaking... but my heart steady.

And when I reached the hall, Alexander was waiting. He leaned casually against the wall, his hands in his pockets, his eyes unreadable.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he murmured, stepping closer. His scent, his presence... it was overwhelming. “One wrong word in this house, Amara, and they’ll eat you alive.”

I tilted my chin, meeting his stare. “Then maybe it’s time someone reminded them I’m not their prey.”

For the first time, his lips curved.. not into a smile, but into something darker. Something that sent a shiver through me.

“You think you can survive them?” he asked softly, almost amused.

“I don’t just think,” I whispered, my heart racing. “I know.”