The sound of Malcolm's polished shoes echoed ominously through the vast expanse of the Chelsea mansion. His expression was cold, unreadable, but the rage simmering beneath the surface was palpable.
Lucia, still fuming, marched ahead of him with angry, determined strides, muttering under her breath about his audacity. But her steps faltered suddenly, and she froze.
Malcolm clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, his hands sliding casually into his pockets as he observed her reaction.
"What you're seeing, darling," he drawled, his voice low and cutting, "is just the beginning. The real torture hasn't even started yet."
Lucia's breath hitched as her wide eyes took in the sight before her. There, in the middle of the grand living room, Mattias sat slumped in a chair, his wrists bound tightly to the armrests. His cheeks were swollen, his lip split, and his head hung lifelessly as if he had been slapped into unconsciousness.
"Mattias!" Lucia screamed, running to his side. She dropped to her knees, gripping his hand in desperation as tears began to stream down her face.
He didn't respond, his head lolling forward like a rag doll. The room swam in front of her as she shook him frantically.
"Wake up, please! Mattias, wake up!" Her cries grew louder, more panicked, echoing through the cold room.
The tempo of her sobs only increased when Celine entered, flanked by two of Malcolm's men. Her own face turned pale at the sight of Mattias.
"Oh my God!" Celine gasped, covering her mouth with trembling hands. Tears spilled freely as she staggered toward them.
The sight of her friend in such a state shattered her composure, and her cries joined Lucia's, filling the room with anguished wails.
---
Malcolm, seated on his favorite sofa—the same one he always sat on, his fortress of control—watched them with disinterest.
"Enough," he ordered, his deep voice cutting through the chaos like a whip.
Celine's tears abruptly stopped as she froze, her eyes darting toward him. Malcolm turned to Brenda, who stood nervously by the doorway.
"Brenda!" he barked.
The butler scurried forward, bowing her head slightly.
"Change her clothes. You know what to do," he said, his tone devoid of emotion, before gesturing toward Celine.
"No!" Lucia screamed, leaping to her feet. She positioned herself protectively between Brenda and Celine, her tear-streaked face burning with fury.
"What have Celine and Mattias got to do with this?" she demanded, her voice cracking with emotion. "Why are you hurting innocent people?!"
Malcolm raised an eyebrow, a mocking smile playing at the corner of his lips.
"Innocent?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You call them innocent?"
He leaned back into the sofa, crossing his legs as he rested an arm on the backrest, his pose both casual and commanding.
"You've only been married to me for two days, Lucia. Two days," he began, his tone low but dangerously sharp. "And what do you do? You sneak off to some filthy club with them"—he gestured lazily toward Mattias and Celine—"and grind against some stranger like a…"
His words trailed off, his voice rising into a roar as he leaned forward.
"Like a goddamned fool with no shame!"
His sudden outburst caused Brenda to flinch. Celine instinctively grabbed Lucia's arm for support, her own face pale with fear.
---
Lucia, however, was far from defeated. Her fiery spirit refused to cower under his storm.
"Oh, so that's the bone of contention here, huh?" she shot back, her voice rising in exasperation.
Malcolm's eyes darkened as he watched her, his jaw clenching tightly.
"Let me remind you, Mr. Sterling," she continued, taking a step closer to him, her finger jabbing the air between them, "you're still hung up on your ex-girlfriend! At least I had the decency to wait two days to do my 'shit,' as you call it, while you ran straight into Stephanie's arms the moment you had the chance!"
Her words hit like a slap, causing surprise to flash briefly across his face. But he quickly masked it, his expression returning to its usual stoic coldness.
Lucia wasn't done.
"Now listen, and listen good, Malcolm Sterling," she said, her voice trembling with barely-contained fury. "I am never, ever going to be anyone's replacement—not for Stephanie or anyone else."
For a moment, there was silence in the room. Even the air seemed to grow still as the tension between them crackled like static electricity.
Malcolm's lips curved into a small, humorless smile. "Replacement?" he echoed, his tone eerily calm.
Then he stood, his imposing frame towering over her.
"I am Malcolm Sterling," he said, his voice cold and commanding. "I do whatever I want, whenever I please. And you…" He leaned closer, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. "You are my wife. Whether you like it or not, you will follow my rules."
---
The room's other occupants—Morgan, Brenda, Celine, and a now-conscious Mattias—watched the heated exchange with bated breath. None dared to interrupt.
Morgan, standing near the door, silently wondered how long this battle of wills could last. Mr. Sterling was undoubtedly a control freak, but Mrs. Sterling's fiery defiance was unlike anything he'd ever seen.
"Hell, how are they going to survive each other?" he muttered under his breath.
Brenda, meanwhile, kept her head down, avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room. She had been with the Sterling family long enough to know better than to intervene.
Celine and Mattias exchanged nervous glances. Mattias winced as he adjusted his position in the chair, his wrists still bound.
Lucia, undeterred, stared Malcolm down, her chest heaving with anger.
"You might think you can control me," she said, her voice unwavering, "but you have no idea who you're dealing with."
Malcolm's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes glinting with challenge. "Oh, I know exactly who I'm dealing with, Lucia. And trust me, you'll learn soon enough what happens when you cross me."
---
The atmosphere was suffocating as the battle lines were drawn. It was clear to everyone in the room that this marriage was no ordinary union—it was a war. And the question on everyone's mind was: who would emerge victorious?
As the tension reached its peak, Malcolm turned to Morgan, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
"Take them out of here," he ordered, gesturing toward Mattias and Celine.
Morgan nodded, his expression neutral as he motioned for Brenda to help him. The two of them carefully guided Celine and Mattias toward the door, leaving Malcolm and Lucia alone in the room.
But even as they left, Lucia's fiery gaze remained locked on Malcolm's.
This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.