The grand chandeliers of the Blackthorne Mansion glowed dimly, casting golden reflections on the marbled floors. The scent of roses and expensive wine lingered in the air, remnants of the extravagant wedding that had taken place just hours ago. But inside the master bedroom, there was no trace of romance—only cold silence.
Eleanor Windsor, the newlywed bride, stood near the heavy oak doors, her delicate fingers clutching the intricate embroidery of her wedding gown. The weight of the golden ring on her finger felt like a shackle, binding her to two men who despised her existence.
"Get out."
The deep, commanding voice belonged to Alexander Blackthorne, the elder of the infamous "Devil Brothers"—the ruthless kings of both the corporate world and the underground empire. His icy blue eyes burned with unspoken resentment, his sharp jaw tightening as he looked at her with pure disdain.
Beside him, his twin, Sebastian Blackthorne, leaned against the dark leather couch, his arms crossed lazily over his chest. Unlike Alexander, whose anger was always controlled, Sebastian's was wild—unpredictable. His dark eyes gleamed with amusement as he smirked.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Sebastian drawled. "Shocked that we're not throwing ourselves at your feet like every other fool who falls for your innocent act?"
Eleanor stiffened, her heart hammering in her chest. She had expected their hatred, but experiencing it firsthand was different.
She took a slow breath and lifted her chin. "I am your wife now," she said, her voice steady despite the pain swirling inside her. "I have every right to be here."
Alexander's lips curled into a cold smile. "Wife?" His voice dripped with mockery. "You think a forced marriage makes you anything to us?"
Sebastian chuckled. "No, darling. You're nothing but a pretty little pawn in our grandfather's game." He pushed off the couch and took a step towards her, his presence almost suffocating. "Did you think marrying into our family would make you powerful? That we'd actually accept you?"
Eleanor's fingers clenched into fists. "I never wanted this marriage," she shot back. "I was dragged into it just like you were."
"Then leave." Alexander's voice was sharp as a blade. He reached for the door handle and pulled it open.
A silent challenge hung in the air.
Eleanor's pride screamed at her to walk out, but something deep inside her resisted. This was her home now, whether they liked it or not. She had no choice but to endure.
Slowly, she turned and stepped toward the doorway. But just as she reached it, she paused.
A playful smile—one that held just a hint of defiance—curved her lips. "You two might hate me now," she murmured, her voice soft yet certain. "But let's see how long that lasts."
With that, she walked out, leaving the Devil Brothers staring after her—one in irritation, the other in amusement.
The game had just begun.