Chapter 3: Cracks in the Armor
The glow of the moonlight spilled through the towering windows of the penthouse, casting long shadows on the polished floors. Ariana sat in bed, her arms wrapped around her knees as she tried to quiet the storm in her mind. Every moment spent in this marriage felt like a balancing act on a knife's edge—Lucas's cold demeanor, Vanessa's veiled threats, and her own guilt pressing down on her chest like a stone.
She exhaled deeply, glancing at the clock. It was late, but she knew sleep wouldn't come easily. The tension between her and Lucas seemed to grow thicker by the day, suffocating any semblance of normalcy. She had seen something shift in his eyes tonight, though—a flicker of understanding that unsettled her more than his anger ever had.
In the adjacent room, Lucas sat at his desk, the soft light of his laptop illuminating his sharp features. His glass of whiskey sat untouched beside him as he stared at the screen, scrolling through the background check his private investigator had sent.
Ariana Cole: Former boutique manager. No criminal record. Average student in college. A series of hospital bills suggesting a major medical expense several years ago—unexplained but significant.
Lucas frowned, his finger hovering over the screen. He had assumed her involvement in this sham marriage was purely selfish, but the pieces didn't add up. The hospital bills suggested something deeper, something that didn't fit with the image of a schemer he had painted in his mind.
"What are you hiding, Ariana?" he muttered under his breath.
The next morning, Ariana entered the kitchen to find Lucas already there, dressed impeccably in a tailored navy suit. He leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee as he reviewed a stack of documents.
"Good morning," she said tentatively, her voice cutting through the quiet.
Lucas glanced up, his expression unreadable. "Morning."
She moved to the counter, pouring herself a cup of coffee. The silence between them was awkward, heavy with unspoken words.
"Do you always work this early?" Ariana asked, desperate to break the tension.
Lucas shrugged, his eyes flickering to her briefly. "Work never stops."
Ariana nodded, cradling her mug. "Must be exhausting."
"Better than being idle," he replied, his tone clipped.
The exchange was brief, but Ariana noticed the absence of his usual biting sarcasm. It wasn't much, but it was a small crack in the icy wall between them.
Later that day, Lucas and Ariana attended a high-profile charity luncheon. The event was another opportunity for Lucas to maintain appearances, and for Ariana, another grueling performance as the dutiful wife.
As they mingled with the crowd, Ariana found herself cornered by a group of society women. Their smiles were sharp, their compliments dripping with condescension.
"So, Ariana," one of them began, her voice sugary sweet, "how does it feel to marry into one of the wealthiest families in the country?"
Ariana forced a smile, her fingers tightening around her glass. "It's been an adjustment," she said carefully.
"I'll bet," another woman chimed in, her gaze lingering on Ariana's modest engagement ring. "Lucas has such high standards. You must've worked hard to meet them."
Before Ariana could respond, Lucas appeared at her side, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back. His presence was a shield, cutting through the tension like a knife.
"Ladies," he said smoothly, his tone polite but firm, "if you'll excuse us, I need a moment with my wife."
The women exchanged knowing looks but said nothing as Lucas guided Ariana away.
"Thank you," she murmured as they moved to a quieter corner of the room.
Lucas glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "They're vultures. You'll get used to it."
Ariana hesitated, searching his face for any sign of sincerity. "Do you enjoy this? Pretending everything is perfect?"
Lucas's lips curved into a faint, bitter smile. "Enjoyment has nothing to do with it. This is business, Ariana. You play the role, or you lose."
His words struck a nerve, reminding her of the precarious position she was in.
That evening, back at the penthouse, Lucas surprised Ariana by joining her in the living room. She sat curled up on the couch, flipping through a magazine, when he settled into the chair across from her.
"You've handled the public side of this well," he said, his tone almost approving.
Ariana looked up, startled by the unexpected compliment. "Thank you," she said cautiously.
Lucas studied her for a moment before leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "But I need to know something. Why did you agree to this marriage? The truth."
Ariana froze, her mind racing. She had spent weeks carefully avoiding this question, deflecting when necessary, but Lucas's piercing gaze left no room for evasion.
"I… I didn't have a choice," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "Vanessa made it clear that if I didn't go through with it, my family would lose everything. She forged documents, threatened to expose things that would ruin us. I didn't want to be part of this, but I couldn't let my family suffer."
Lucas's jaw tightened, his gray eyes narrowing. "And what does she have on you personally?"
Ariana hesitated, her heart pounding. "That's none of your business."
"It became my business the moment we signed that marriage license," Lucas said, his voice low and firm.
Ariana looked away, her hands trembling slightly. "It doesn't matter. You've already decided who I am."
Lucas leaned back, his gaze never leaving her. "Maybe I'm starting to reconsider."
Her head snapped up, her eyes searching his for any hint of sincerity. But before she could respond, Lucas stood and walked out of the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
For the first time, Ariana wondered if Lucas's cold exterior might be hiding more than just anger. And for the first time, Lucas questioned whether he had judged her too quickly.
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