Elara barely slept that night.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him—Asher Kade—standing tall and flawless beneath the city lights, his angelic face paired with that chilling voice that left no room for negotiation. By morning, her head ached from overthinking, her chest tight with nerves she couldn't explain.
She woke before her alarm.
The penthouse was quiet when she stepped out of the guest room, dressed carefully in something simple and modest. Her footsteps echoed softly against the marble floors. The place did not feel lived in. It felt managed. Controlled. Like everything in it existed exactly where Asher wanted it.
Just like her.
She found him in the dining area.
Asher stood by the counter, sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled up just enough to expose his forearms. Morning light poured in through the glass walls, brushing over his face and softening his sharp features. Up close, he looked almost unreal—beautiful in a way that felt unfair.
Elara's breath caught.
How could someone look like this and still feel so cold?
He glanced at her, his eyes sharpening instantly. "You're early."
"I didn't want to be late," she replied, straightening unconsciously.
"Good," he said. "Sit."
The word was not loud. It was not cruel. But it carried weight, and her body obeyed before her mind could argue.
He turned fully toward her.
Up close, the contrast unsettled her even more. Long lashes framed eyes that looked gentle until they weren't. Lips that looked like they belonged to someone who smiled often—yet she had not seen him smile once.
"I'll be clear," Asher said calmly. "This marriage is a contract. Nothing more."
Elara nodded. "I understand."
"You'll live here. Attend public appearances when required. You'll play your role convincingly." His gaze pinned her in place. "But don't mistake that for intimacy."
Her fingers tightened in her lap.
"I don't want your affection. I don't want your questions. And I don't want your emotions interfering with my life."
"Yes," she said softly, though something in her chest ached.
"There are rules," he continued. "You don't enter my room. You don't touch my things. And you don't speak to the press unless I approve every word."
She swallowed. "What about… what about us?"
"There is no us," he replied immediately.
The finality in his voice landed like a quiet blow.
She nodded again.
Asher stepped back, already withdrawing. "You'll meet my assistant shortly. He'll handle your schedule."
As if summoned by his words, the sound of footsteps approached.
A man in a tailored grey suit appeared at the entrance, tablet in hand. He looked to be around Asher's age, with warm brown eyes and a calm presence that immediately softened the room.
"Good morning, sir," he said respectfully. Then his gaze shifted to Elara, and his expression changed.
Not curiosity. Not judgment.
Concern.
"You must be Mrs. Kade," he said gently, offering a small smile. "I'm Nathaniel. But please, call me Nate."
Elara blinked, surprised by the warmth in his tone. "Elara," she replied. "Nice to meet you."
Nate inclined his head politely. "Welcome."
It was such a simple word, yet it felt like the first one spoken to her that morning that did not feel like a command.
Asher's eyes flicked between them.
Briefly.
Subtly.
"Elara will need a full rundown of today's schedule," Asher said coolly. "Handle it."
"Of course," Nate replied. He turned back to her, lowering his voice slightly. "Would you like to sit somewhere more comfortable?"
Elara hesitated, instinctively glancing at Asher.
Asher said nothing.
So she nodded.
They moved to the sitting area, and Nate spoke carefully, explaining appointments and expectations, even pausing to ask if she needed water. Each small kindness made her chest tighten in a way she had not expected.
"You don't have to worry," he said quietly at one point. "I'll help however I can."
Her throat thickened. "Thank you."
Across the room, Asher watched.
His expression did not change, but something dark flickered briefly in his eyes.
When Nate laughed softly at something Elara said, Asher's jaw tightened.
"Enough."
"That will be all," Asher said sharply.
Nate looked up, surprised, but nodded. "I'll see you later, Mrs. Kade."
Elara watched him leave, then turned back toward Asher.
His gaze was unreadable now.
"Don't get comfortable," he said coldly. "People here work for me. They don't befriend you."
Her heart sank.
"I was just—"
"I don't care," he interrupted. "Remember the rules."
Then he walked away.
Elara remained seated, her hands trembling slightly.
So beautiful. So controlled. So frighteningly distant.
One year, she reminded herself. Just one year.
But as she stared at the space Asher had left behind, a dangerous realization settled deep in her chest.
This was not going to be about surviving the contract.
It was going to be about surviving Asher Kade,
and whatever he was trying so desperately not to feel.