Trisha stepped out of the most luxurious car she had ever ridden in.

Dressed in a red silk designer dress and hat, with sunglasses to match.

“Smile. Everyone's watching.” Lucian said, holding her by the arm and leading her into the conference hall.

Reporters swarmed like bees all around them, their cameras aimed like rifles at them.

‘Don't talk to the media, don't ask questions, and don't answer questions either. You stay on your side of the mansion while performing your wifely duties. Lastly and most importantly, don't ever disobey me.’

He had earlier given her the rules.

Lucian's hand found its way out of her arm and onto her waist.

The sudden movement made Trisha flinch.

The cameras roared to life, taking shots with brutal precision.

“Why the sudden marriage, Mr. Cross?”

“Is she pregnant?”

“Is this just another business deal?”

The questions were endless.

Lucian smiled, compelling Trisha to do the same.

“Our story doesn't have to make sense to anyone. What matters is that we are together and ready to start our lives.” Lucian said, turning his head and placing a small kiss on Trisha's lips.

‘What the—’

“Is this true, ma'am?”

Trisha was still in a daze before realizing the question was meant for her.

“Um…”, Before she could reply, Lucian held her and walked away.

********

Trisha's stomach twisted into knots as Lucian drove them to his family's estate for dinner later that day.

The Cross mansion towered over her, beautiful and terrifying.

Its marble walls were cold enough to turn breath to ice.

Their wealth was lavishly displayed in intricate paintings, massive chandeliers, and silverwares that looked like it cost more than Trisha's entire existence.

Staff bustled in their business. Their movements swift and sharp, like a rehearsed playlet.

Victor Cross, Lucian's father, sat across from them in the enormous glass dining room, his gaze sharp and stoic.

He embodied the effortless elegance of a man who owned empires.

His wife, Lora Cross, was seated beside him, wearing grace and poise like a second skin.

Her eyes glared nonstop at Trisha.

“Women don't seem to know their place these days,” she spoke, still glaring. “You can take the girl out of the slum, but not the slum out of the girl.”

Trisha looked at her. She was so young, probably not very much older than her.

“And some women mistake wealth for class.” Trisha said, almost in a whisper.

The room fell silent.

Lucian's lips twitched in amusement as he looked up at her.

“You're just another social climber who's learned to claw your way up, only faster and dirtier,” Victor Cross seethed, not bothering to hide his disdain. “Just so you know, I don't approve of this marriage.”

He rose abruptly and left the table.

Lora followed him almost immediately, giving Trisha one last glare.

But Trisha had noticed the suspicious glint in Victor's eyes.

The kind that wouldn't let go until they ripped the truth out.

~

Lucian walked Trisha to her wing at the far end of the main building.

“Why did you do that?” She suddenly asked.

“Do what?” His reply was quick.

“Earlier, at the conference. That k…”

“Kiss?” he cut in. “Can't believe you're bothered over that little show,” he retorted.

“That was definitely far from a show. You can't just…”

“Are you standing up to me now, miss?” he said, his eyes narrowing as he moved closer to her.

“I've told you, you don't get to question my actions. Know your place. You play your part, and I'll play mine. Are we clear?”

Trisha looked up at him, and her palms itched to slap off the smug look of anger on his face.

But she knew better.

She lifted her face to his, then breathed, “Of course, sir.”

~

The mansion lay in eerie quietness, save for the chirping of insects outside Trisha's window.

She lay on the exquisite queen-sized bed, rubbing her belly, a gesture that had become instinctive.

Her mind drifted to the earlier conference as she touched her lips where Lucian had kissed her.

It had lasted only a heartbeat, but the weight of it still lingered.

Filling her with dreadful thoughts, thoughts she wouldn't dare name.

Why was he acting so differently all of a sudden?

He’d seemed warm and welcoming at first…

Or so she thought.

A faint sound suddenly jolted her back to reality.

No, not a sound.

Whispers.

She slowly opened the door, and her heartbeat thundered in her ears as Davis's voice floated through the slightly opened door of the adjacent room.

Lucian's personal assistant.

What was he still doing here?

“I doubt she'll last a month,” he whispered. “I'll keep watching them, Elena.”

Elena?

The call ended abruptly.

Trisha slowly jammed her door, praying he hadn't heard.

Her phone suddenly rings, and she quickly moves to reach for it but knocks it down by mistake.

Shit!

She quickly bends over to grab it, little pieces of its broken screen littering the tiled floor.

Her eyes darted to the glass nightstand, as she noticed something unusual.

The tiny blinking of a red light reflecting on the stand.

She bent to look more closely under the bed and her eyes went wide with horror.

A tiny recording camera.

Fitted beneath the bed frame, perfectly hidden.

No one could have easily discovered it.

But she had.

Trisha felt hot and cold at the same time as large beads of sweat slowly formed on her forehead.

How long had it been there?

How much had it seen?

And more importantly…

Who had put it there?

In a flash, she grabbed the nearest object, a jewelry box by her bedside, and hit the camera until it cracked.

Her eyes suddenly turned to the compact wardrobe by her bedside and a chilling thought hit her-

What if that wasn't the only one?

Her phone suddenly buzzed. Startling her further.

One new video.

She clicked it.

And froze.

It was her. Sleeping.

Only then did the realization hit her like a bolt of lightning.

She was being watched.

And whoever it was, wanted her to know.

The morning light seeped through the glass window; a cruel reminder that she had woken up, but in a world that was not hers.

She stood before the large mirror in her bedroom, and her reflection stared back at her, duller and pale.

She had not gotten much sleep.

No. She could not afford to.

Not with a pair of eyes secretly watching her.

“Breakfast is ready,” a maid announced from the doorway.

Trisha took a deep breath, trying to quiet her thoughts. “Be right there.” She voiced out.

Lucian was seated at the far end of the dining room.

His expression was unchanging as he sipped coffee from a mug.

Trisha noticed Victor and Lora's absence.

“You're late,” Lucian said, not looking up.

“I didn't know breakfast came with a timer.” She replied.

“Everything here is timed, Miss. Including appearances. Do I really have to teach you everything?” he said, finally looking up at her.

Trisha ignored his question and took a seat, reaching for a piece of toast.

The smell of eggs suddenly hit her, and her stomach churned as a wave of nausea rolled through her.

Cold sweat broke over her brow as she reached instead for a glass of water, her fingers trembling around it.

She had not taken her pregnancy pills for a while.

And now the morning sickness was making her pay.

She noticed Lucian's calculating eyes on her.

“I'm fine,” she lied quickly. “Just not a breakfast person.”

~

Trisha walked into the Cross's launch party alongside Lucian.

An event Lora had insisted was unmissable.

She wore an expensive red satin dress Lora had equally picked for her, a small note attached to it:

‘A Cross should never look like a pity project.’

Trisha had wanted to burn it.

But she wore it instead.

The endless chatter of rich personalities filled the room like static.

Despite the luxury draped over her, Trisha still felt like an outsider.

“Lucian,” they heard a small voice from behind as a short woman in an equally red flowing dress approached them.

She walked up to Lucian and took his hands. “You came,” she said, beaming.

“Of course. I had to see you,” Lucian replied. Giving her a small hug.

The woman's eyes darted to Trisha. “Is this her?”

Lucian smiled, “Yes, Aunt,” pulling Trisha closer by the waist. Hoping his aunt wouldn't see through the lie.

The woman in turn took Trisha's hand, patting it gently. “I'm so happy for you both.” She said with a wide smile, her aged, yellowing teeth on display, “I'm Elizabeth, Lucian's aunt. But you can call me Ellie. If you ever need anything, anything at all, I'll be here, okay?”

Trisha let out a quiet sigh of relief.

At last, someone who didn't treat her like an outsider.

“Thank you,” Trisha replied. Giving her a small hug too.

She had told no one about the camera incident.

She didn't trust anyone enough.

Not even Lucian.

The music swelled, and the sound of heels clanging on the tiled floor could be heard as some young couples danced around .

Lucian walks up to her and without asking, he takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor.

“I can't…” She started in protest.

“Relax. It's just for the cameras.”

The dance was slow and strained, both moving stiffly at first, Trisha being painfully aware of the crowd , of their eyes.

Lucian pressed lightly at her lower back.

Moving her closer. Too close. Distracting her thoughts.

“You're good at pretending,” she murmured as he brought his face down, closer to her nape. His warm breath fanning her neck.

“So are you,” he replied. The words left his lips in a whisper. Sending shivers down her spine.

His eyes flicked to her lips, just for a second.

Trisha saw the hint of something dark in them, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to blur as the tension between them thickened.

Lucian slowly began to lean in, and heat curled in her lower belly as she slowly parted her lips to meet his.

Then,

He stopped.

His lips hovered at her ear. “Don’t fall for the illusion,” he said. Stepping away from her.

At a distance, Trisha could feel a pair of cold eyes shooting daggers at her.

She looked up and saw her.

Lora.

********

Back at the mansion, Trisha wandered the main building. Her heels silent on the thick carpet as she walked, barely greeting the maids.

Then she saw it.

Victor's office.

It was almost impossible not to recognize, it was distinct from every other room in the house.

She looked around and slowly turned the doorknob.

It was unlocked, dangerously unlocked.

She tiptoed in, her eyes swiftly scanning the dark room.

It was also empty.

Her eyes fell on a phone on the side table–Victor’s.

A chilling message was on its screen:

‘There's something she's not telling. I'll find out what. Be patient. She won't be Mrs. Cross for long.”

She looked at the recipient—‘Elena.’

The name sounded familiar, like a jolt straight through her spine.

Who was she?

She suddenly heard faint footsteps, and she quickly slipped out of the room in a swift, silent dash.

But she hadn't noticed the small red light blinking steadily above the door.

She ran back to her secluded room and lay quietly on the bed.

A soft knock made her get back up almost immediately.

She opened her door to reveal a half-naked Lucian.

His freshly showered scent flooding her senses.

His expression was blank as he handed her a small, fancy purse.

“You left this in the car,” he said.

“Thank you,” Trisha said, reaching for it.

Their fingers slightly brushed each other, and she swallowed hard.

Lucian turned to leave.

“Wait.”

He stopped and turned back to her.

“Do you..wanna come inside?”

“Excuse me?” His voice was laced with amusement.

“I-I don't know… I just… I'm sorry. forget it.”

Lucian took one stride towards her. Closing the space between them

“I've told you, Miss Reynolds, this is all a game. Stop pushing your luck.” He breathed.

“And that kiss…?”

“Was for the cameras,” Lucian murmured. His gaze flickering between her eyes and her lips.

A tight, electric silence hung between them.

Trisha bit her lower lip as she whispered, "Prove it.”

In one swift movement, Lucian closed the gap between them.

His lips descended on hers. Rough, Hot, And Hard.

With a deep urgency that made her heart race.

His tongue slid into her mouth. Devouring her sweetness.

Trisha kissed him back with the same urgency.

Her fingers digging into his bare chest as she pressed her body into his, feeling every hard inch of him.

He grabbed her hips, pressing her further into him. Deepening the kiss.

Trisha moaned in pure ecstasy, sending a pulse of need between her thighs.

Lucian suddenly pulled away, his breath ragged as he cursed, “Damn it!”

He clenched his fists as he turned to leave.

His mind circled back to what had just happened.

Fuck!

He probably had too much to drink at the party.

That kiss was definitely wrong.

And as much as he regretted it,

It had felt so damn good too.

Trisha flung her door open with a frown, already annoyed by the persistent knock.

A sweet smiling Lora stood in the doorway, holding out a small tray of warm golden pastries.

“A little something for you. I noticed you didn't come down for breakfast,” she said to Trisha, who gave her a long look in return.

Though her smile was meant to be friendly, which was strange.

It still felt more like a warning.

Too bright. Too practiced.

Her fingers reached for her lips, rubbing them gently as the memory of last night came flooding back.

The taste of him still lingered, burning and unforgettable.

But so did his words—‘That was a mistake.’

She glanced at Lora, realizing she was still standing in the doorway.

“No, I'm good, thank you.” She said, her hand moving to close the door.

“Come on now, you wouldn't want all my effort to go to waste, would you?” Lora persisted.

Trisha cast a quick look at the maid behind Lora, she was fidgeting. Desperately trying not to be noticed.

“So… what do you say?” Lora asked again. Holding the tray towards Trisha.

Trisha collected the tray, giving her a small smile. “I'll save it for later.”

“As you wish,” Lora said as she walked away with a crooked smile.

The maid immediately followed suit but suddenly stopped and gave Trisha a quick look before dashing out.

Trisha stared at her retreating figure in a daze.

What the hell was going on?

Trisha made her way towards the library, anywhere to hide from Lucian and the thoughts ravaging in her mind.

The library was off limits to everyone else except Victor and Lucian.

But curiosity and the smell of old, dusty books were hard to resist as Trisha made her way inside.

An unusual framed photo on a side table caught her eye.

She picked it up.

It was Lucian, standing beside a man with the same eyes, only a shade lighter.

They were both smiling.

Trisha looked more closely at the picture.

Those eyes..they were hauntingly familiar.

Where had she seen them before?

Just then, a sudden movement behind her made her jolt.

“I see you have a quirk for visiting restricted places.”

She turned in the direction of the voice.

Not Lucian. Not Victor.

It was Davis.

He stood in the doorway. Shirt slightly unbuttoned, with a cigarette in hand.

“Oh.. I was just... you know… looking through” Trisha said.

Davis's eyes darted to the framed picture in her hand. “You're playing with fire, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

Davis paused before speaking again. “Just a friendly warning,” he said, giving her a long look. “I know I shouldn't say this, but this house… It's poison. It eats people like you alive.”

Trisha's stomach twisted, but she quickly masked it.

“Is that meant to scare me?” She asked with a calm voice.

Davis chuckled lightly. “Like I said, just a friendly warning.”

“And that phone call, was that a friendly warning too?” Trisha asked, crossing her arms.

Davis's face twisted. “What are you talking about?”

Before she could answer, they heard loud footsteps behind.

They both turned to see Lucian with a dark expression on his face as he walked towards them.

“Missing out on something?” Lucian asked tightly, his jaw clenched.

“Nothing, boss. Just filling Miss Reynolds here on the latest,” Davis said, raising his hands in a teasing manner.

Lucian's expression remained blank as his gaze flicked to Trisha. “Come with me.”

Trisha didn't move.

“Now, Trisha!” He barked.

Trisha shuddered.

This was the first time hearing her name directly from his lips.

She silently followed him down the hall until they were completely out of Davis's sight.

He turned to her, eyes blazing.

“What did I say about appearances?”

Trisha's heart thudded loudly in her chest. “I wasn't feeling good.”

“That's no fucking excuse not to show up when you are expected!”

Trisha flinched.

“And flirting with Davis. You weren't feeling good too?

“I wasn't flirting!”

“Not everyone would think so.”

“Is that jealousy I hear?”

Lucian scoffed, “Don't flatter yourself, Miss.” He said, moving closer to her. “In this house, rumors spread faster than a disease. People talk. And talk can kill.”

“So I'm just supposed to hide in a corner and pretend nothing's happening?”

Lucian let out a low laugh and grabbed her arm, fingers etching into her skin. “You must think this is a joke,” he said, leaning closer to her. “One wrong move, Miss Reynolds, one wrong move, and you'll learn just how fast things can fall apart.”

He forcefully let go of her arm, pushing her slightly to the wall.

“I won't warn you again,” he said to her as he turned to walk away, leaving Trisha staring in disbelief.

******

Trisha halted as she rounded the back of the courtyard, close to the bountiful flower gardens.

The evening breeze was cool and soothing, like a balm against her troubled mind.

She took a seat, trying to calm her thoughts.

She hadn't expected anyone around and froze the moment she heard low voices.

She slowly pressed herself against a wall, steadying herself as she leaned closer to peek.

Lora stood tall, arms folded tightly across her chest as she paced around a trembling maid kneeling on the floor.

One of the Cross family bodyguards stood behind her, a weapon at his hips.

Trisha could sense something was off.

“You told her something, didn't you? Lora's voice came, laced with venom and spite “What was it? That I had poisoned the treat? Or that I tried to kill her?”

“N- no, ma'am. I swear, I didn't say a word. I swear upon my mother's grave. Please have mercy, ma'am,” the maid pleaded, rolling on the muddy ground.

“You're a terrible liar! But that's okay. Because I have a cure for that,” Lora said, smiling darkly.

She picked a tray of pastries from a nearby bench.

Trisha recognized it. It was exactly like the one she had brought earlier to her.

She had left it on her bedside table.

A strange feeling in her gut hadn't let her eat it, and now, her instincts had been confirmed.

“You look hungry. Try one.” Lora said sweetly as she offered a piece to the maid.

The maid violently shook her head. “No, no, ma'am. I-I'm not hungry at all.”

Lora leaned in closer to her, smirking, “You will eat one. Or I'll make sure what you did reaches him. I don't think I need to tell you what that means.”

The maid went still for a while, stifling her tears. With trembling hands, she took the pastry from Lora and took a bite.

“Take another bite.” Lora ordered, “Until there's not a bite left.”

The maid took another bite. Then another, and another until there was nothing left in her hand.

In a second, her eyes slowly welled up.

She coughed, once, then harder.

Her body jolted forward, and she clutched her chest as a rigorous cough shook her entire body.

Thick lumps of blood and bits of undigested pastry littered the ground.

Trisha watched, horror struck, as Lora crouched and lifted the girl's chin, whispering coldly, “Loose lips…bring disaster.”

The maid shook violently. Then went still.

Trisha clamped a hand over her mouth, muffling her gasp as her heart thundered loudly in her chest.

The sudden movement must have been heard by them because Lora turned sharply, her eyes narrowing in Trisha's direction.

Trisha's steps wavered as she slowly backed away, bolting towards the main building.

She hadn't heard everything, but she had seen enough.

The Cross–

They weren't just vile and ruthless.

They were a bunch of cold-blooded murderers..

And she had walked right into their den..