CHARLOTTE'S POV

It's strange how quickly life can pivot. One day, you are arguing with your mother about a future you don't want, and the next, you are standing before a mirror in a wedding gown that doesn't feel like yours, yet somehow it oddly fits.

I always thought I'd run away if forced into something like this. But here I was, not running, screaming, or fighting.

Just.... accepting.

Maybe it was exhaustion. Or the way Aiden had looked at me the night we signed the marriage agreement. His eyes were quiet, guarded but not cruel. Maybe it was because deep down, I knew there was no going back.

My father's legacy was gone. My mother had made her bed and I was the final pawn left on the board.

So I surrendered, but on my terms.

I would walk into this with my head high, even if my heart dragged behind me.

The morning of the wedding was calm. Too calm. No last-minute protests or soap opera-style objections. Just makeup artists, photographers, and my mother pretending this was every girl's dream.

"You look beautiful," she said, adjusting the veil on my head.

I glanced at her reflection beside mine in the mirror. "Do I look like someone marrying for love?"

She paused, hands frozen. "You look like someone who's ready."

Ready? For what exactly? I didn't even bother to ask.

The ceremony was held at the Kingston estate's garden. Grand and luxurious. The kind of wedding fairy tales had been ghostwritten by a board of directors and filled with silent stares instead of sweet nothings.

Aiden looked sharp, as always. Perfect suit, perfect posture. But his eyes..... they weren't perfect. They were distant, like he was somewhere else.

Still, when he took my hand, there was a spark. A flicker of something real.

"Ready?" he asked under his breath.

I nodded. "Let's do it."

The vows were read, rings exchanged. A kiss that was more political than passionate and then just like that, I was Mrs Charlotte Kingston.

The honeymoon was a blur. Not because it wasn't memorable, but because it felt like someone else was living it. We flew to Santorini. Aiden's choice because I didn't have a say. It was heartbreaking. Not having to get your dream wedding or honeymoon.

We had separate rooms in a villa overlooking the sea. He never imposed, never assumed. Every moment we shared was polite.... careful.

But on the third night, something shifted.

We were sitting on the terrace after dinner, watching the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky with a hundred shades of fire.

"You are not what I expected." He said suddenly.

I turned to him. "What did you expect?"

"A spoiled heiress, a reluctant bride. Someone bitter and angry."

I chuckled. "Oh, I am bitter and angry. But I'm learning to keep it stylish."

He smiled. A real one for the first time since I met him. It changed his entire face. It made his face lit and his eyes pop.

"You surprise me too," I said.

"You are less arrogant than I imagined."

He raised a brow. "Is that a compliment?"

"Quite hard to believe it myself, but yes, it's a compliment." I giggled.

The silence between us grew comfortable. We sat and just enjoyed each other's company. And for the first time, I let myself look at him not as my husband on paper, but as a man. A complicated and guarded man with secrets behind those dark eyes. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn't the villain I portrayed him to be.

That night, we didn't kiss, nor did we cross any lines. It wasn't the usual honeymoon night where couples spend the night in each other's arms or consummating their wedding.

But when I fell asleep, I dreamed of him.

Moving into Aiden's mansion was a bit scary. Adjusting to a new environment was different for me.

When we got out of the car and entered the mansion, it was as if all the staff knew what to do. They rushed into the living room and arranged.

Aiden clears his throat slightly, his voice calm but distant.

"This is Charlotte."

He paused and continued. "My wife,"

"She will be staying here permanently. Whatever she needs, you give it to her with no questions asked or any delay.

I glanced at him but he didn't look at me.

Elsie, Cheryl, you will make sure her rooms are always in order. If she wants to change anything in the east wing, let her.

The house was too big and quiet. Aiden gave me the east wing of the mansion and said I could decorate it however I wanted.

There were two maids, Elsie and Cheryl, a middle-aged woman, Petra, who is the chef, and coordinates the house. And also lots of securities.

Elsie and Cheryl took my bags and took me to the east wing, and Aiden stayed back to give more instructions to the other staff.

Aiden stayed in the west wing. Most mornings or evenings, we ate together.

I started to notice some things about him. He always drank coffee at 6 a.m. and went to his private gym at 4 a.m. He always stopped at a particular window before leaving the house, like he was trying to remember something.

Sometimes we stare at each other and other times our hands brush over each other.

We weren't in love but I guess we were trying to make it all work. I had hope.

One evening, after a long walk in the garden, I returned to my room to find a gift box on my bed wrapped in a deep green ribbon.

I opened the box and I saw a book. "The Secret Garden." A book I had always loved since I was a child. And inside the box I found a note.

"I remembered you mentioned this once.

Not everything about this has to be a duty.

- Aiden.

My heart gave a small flutter. It was the gift he had given to me. Not a jewelry or perfume. It was a book.

That night, I stood in front of his door for full five minutes before I knocked. He opened the door. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, his hair slightly tousled. He looked.... softer.

"I wanted to say thank you," I said.

He nodded. "You are welcome."

There was a long pause. I didn't walk back to my room to avoid the weird silence. Instead, I waited and then I asked.

"Do you ever think we could make this work?"

He didn't answer, he just smiled.

I just walked back to my room smiling. I didn't fall in love with Aiden Kingston that night but I think it's safe to assume that the door to love might be opened a little.

I hope he thinks so too.

AIDEN'S POV

I messed up.

Not because I said too much, but because I allowed her to see something I buried a long time ago. That moment on the stairs, the book in her hands, the softness in her eyes, it cracked something inside me.

And cracks? They are dangerous.

Because when people find the cracks, they start digging.

I have lived most of my life behind stone walls. And I built them for a reason.

The next morning, I didn't wait for breakfast.

I left early.

Charlotte had this look on her face last night like she thought something had changed between us that we were finally becoming something.

We weren't.

We couldn't.

By the third day of me successfully avoiding Charlotte, she finally confronted me.

I was in the study, hunched over reports I brought home from the office. I was deep inside my work when she walked in.

"Aiden." Her voice was gentle. "Can we talk?"

I didn't even look up. "I'm busy."

"You have been busy for days."

I sighed. "It's called work, Charlotte. You should try it sometime."

She flinched, but she kept standing there. "Did I do something wrong?"

I set my pen down slowly. "No."

"Then why are you acting as if we are strangers living together?"

"I'm not acting, Charlotte." My voice sounded so cold. "This is who I am."

Her lips parted, but no words came out of her mouth. I could see the hurt forming but she tried to hide it behind her pride.

"She stepped closer to my desk. "You do not get to pull me in and then shut down without an explanation. I'm not a child."

"I never pulled you in," I snapped raising my voice a bit.

"Don't mistake one act of kindness for something deeper. It is not as deep as you might think."

"You gave me a book from your childhood," she said, her voice tight.

"That's not nothing."

"It was a moment of weakness. One I will make sure not to repeat ever again."

She stared at me, her eyes were sparkling like a glass of tears and it made me uncomfortable. Guilt doesn't suit me.

"I thought there was hope for us," she whispered.

"Oh, come on Charlotte, don't tell me you think this is some love fairy tale story that the man and woman fall in love and they live happily ever after. Let me make this clear, There's no hope for us, so stop trying to find it." I said flatly.

Charlotte blinked rapidly, trying to prevent the tears from falling. Then she turned and walked out without saying another word to me. Not that I was expecting one.

I left the house like I was a thief because deep down I couldn't face Charlotte after the encounter we had in my office. Why did I even decide to work from home?

I need a distraction.

I need a fix. I picked up my phone and called my friend at the club I usually visit.

"Hey man, how's it going?"

"Aiden, my boss, I'm good, it's been a while. Congratulations on your wedding. Too bad I wasn't invited."

"Sorry bro." I didn't know what to say to him because I wanted to brush him off.

"I need you to send a girl over to the usual spot."

"Okay, boss." He knew better than to question me and I'm certain he wanted to ask questions.

At the bar, I didn't drink much. I just had a few glasses and I left the bar with my distraction. I got home in the evening.

Honestly, I didn't want her. I just needed to prove something to myself, and maybe to Charlotte, too.

The second we walked in, I saw Charlotte curled up on the couch in the living room with a blanket. She was reading a book peacefully. Until she saw us.

She looked at the girl holding my arm, then back at me.

She stood slowly. "I see," she said softly. "So this is how it's going to be."

I didn't answer. She turned to the maid, Elsie, who I didn't notice was standing in the hallway.

"Please make sure she gets whatever she needs," Charlotte said calmly. "She's a guest after all."

She didn't wait for a response. She grabbed her book and the blanket and walked up the stairs.

Later that night, the girl passed out drunk in the guest room. I didn't even touch her. I wanted to but I just couldn't do it.

All I could think of was Charlotte's silence.

I stepped out of my room and I met Petra, the chef, trying to lock the side doors.

She glanced at me. "Having a long night, sir?"

I raised my eyebrow. "Any problem?"

"No, sir." She paused. "Just wondering if you are planning to keep hurting her, or if this is a one-time thing."

I stared at her. "Excuse me?"

"She ate dinner alone, again and she barely touched her food."

"I don't care, and by the way, I am not paying you to put your mouth into matters that don't concern you." She nodded and left.

The next morning, I ran into Charlotte. She was coming out of her room, holding sets of dirty bed sheets.

"You don't have to do that," I said.

"I live here, so I might as well clean up too," she replied calmly.

I winced. "She's just....."

"You don't have to explain," she cut in, her eyes were free of any emotion. "I've gotten the message loud and care, I won't expect anything from you."

"Charlotte......"

She looked at me. "You know the worst part? It's not the fling, it's the fact that I let myself believe you were different."

"I told you not to," I said with my voice low and deep.

"You gave me hope, that's crueler than ten flings, Aiden," she said, pressing the sheets to her chest.

She walked past me, brushing my shoulder, and it lingered.

I decided not to go to the office. I stayed in my study from morning till night. The book I gave her was still on her nightstand. I saw it earlier when she left the door slightly open.

She still keeps it till now. Even after everything.

Elsie knocked lightly and peeked in.

"Would you like tea, sir?"

I shook my head."No."

"Miss Charlotte asked for something calming. I thought maybe..."

"She's not sleeping?"

She shook her head. "She hasn't been eating much either."

I rubbed my face. "Thanks."

She looked happy that day, sir. The day you gave her the book."

I stayed silent.

"She thought you were opening up."

I looked away. "That was a mistake."

"Then why does it look like you are the one hurting now?"

Before I could answer, she turned and left me alone.

And for the first time in a long time, I didn't want to be.

CHARLOTTE'S POV

My phone rang just after noon.

I stared at the screen. It was my mother.

I didn't want to answer.

But I did.

"Hello?"

"Charlotte." Her voice was so oddly sweet. "It's been almost two weeks since the wedding and not a single call from my only daughter?"

"I have been ... adjusting."

"Adjusting?" She laughed lightly. "What's there to adjust to? You married a Kingston, you should be happy and thanking me."

I stayed quiet.

She continued, "How is Aiden? He's treating you well, isn't he?"

"He barely talks to me."

There was a moment of silence.

"Are you doing your part?" she asked.

"My part?"

"Yes, being a good wife, obedient and respectful. Men like Aiden don't want difficult women."

"Difficult?" I scoffed. "You think I'm the problem?"

"You need to learn how to keep your voice down, young lady; you were raised better than this."

"I was raised to be silent and pretty, not to be someone's doormat."

"You are being dramatic."

"No, I'm being honest. You married me off for a business deal and expect me to smile about it?"

"I did what was best for you, for our family."

"Yeah Mom, of course, playing the awesome and caring mother card." Note the sarcasm.

"I don't know what you are talking about..."

"No mother, you did what was best for you and Barry."

"Watch your mouth, Charlotte, I'm still your mother."

I stood up from the chair, pacing angrily.

"No, you watch yours. I'm not a child anymore and I'm not going to play house with a man who treats me like I'm invisible."

"Then make yourself visible the right way," she snapped. "Dress nicely, cook for him, lie there and smile even when he doesn't deserve it."

"I'm not going to crawl for him or feed his ego."

"You are his wife now. You don't have a choice."

"I always have a choice." Her words made me want to pull my hair out of my scalp.

"Don't be ungrateful, Charlotte. Every girl would want to be in your shoes. This marriage will make you wealthy and powerful."

"I don't care about power. I care about respect. Something you and Barry don't seem to understand."

She was silent for a beat.

"Don't ruin this," she said coldly.

"I'm not the one who ruined or is going to ruin anything."

"I won't sit by while you embarrass this family."

"Then hang up."

"Charlotte.."

I ended the call. I knew I was disrespectful to her, but she doesn't understand my plight, and she isn't trying to understand me either.

I wish my Dad were alive. All these wouldn't be happening to me.

I stared at the window for a while trying to wrap my head around how messed up my life is. I need a breath of fresh air.

I was heading downstairs to get some fresh air in the garden when I heard voices near the kitchen.

Cheryl and Elsie were talking to each other. I stepped on the last step, while my hands were still on the wooden handle meant for support to and from the stairs.

"I can't take it anymore," Cheryl said. "She walks around the house like she owns it."

"Well, technically, she does own this house; she's his wife, Cheryl," Elsie replied quietly.

"She doesn't love him."

"Hmmmm. How do you know that? Please say what you know."

"I have a feeling that marriage is forced. She doesn't love him at all."

"That doesn't mean she deserves hate."

"She does," Cheryl hissed. "She doesn't deserve him. You have seen how she talks and behaves to him as if he were beneath her. I bet she is with him because of his money."

Elsie sighed. "This isn't your business."

Cheryl's voice softened. "You don't understand, Elsie. I have loved him for years. Ever since I started working here. I love the way he walks, talks, and commands the room. He deserves someone who actually sees him."

"And you think that's you?"

"Why not me?" she whispered. "I'd worship the ground he walks on and I will never make him feel unwanted."

"Cheryl..."

"I hate her, Elsie. Every time I see her in his arms, I feel sick. She doesn't belong here."

There was a pause.

"She doesn't even make his tea right," Cheryl added bitterly.

I stepped into the hallway.

Both maids froze. Most especially Cheryl.

Elsie's eyes widened. "Miss Charlotte---"

"I see," I said keeping my voice calm. "So that's how you feel, Cheryl?"

Cheryl's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. "I.. I didn't mean...."

"Don't lie. I heard everything." I crossed my arms. "So you have been chasing after my husband?"

"I just... I care about him."

"Enough to fantasize about replacing me?"

She swallowed. "I just think he deserves better."

"Better than me?" I took a step forward. "Do you know what it's like waking up every day next to a man who pretends you don't exist? Being in a marriage you never asked for, in a home that doesn't feel like yours?"

She said nothing.

"No, you don't." I continued.

"Because while you were fantasizing, I was fighting to hold myself together."

"Miss Charlotte...." Elsie whispered, trying to calm the tension.

But I wasn't done.

"You think he wants you?" I said to Cheryl. "Then by all means, go stand outside his door and wait for him to notice you."

"That's not what I..."

"Save it. Henceforth, stay out of my way. You don't speak about me, you don't serve me and you don't come near me unless I call for you, that's if I call for you. Understood?"

Cheryl nodded quickly, her eyes filling with tears.

I turned to Elsie. "I appreciate your honesty. Thank you."

Elsie gave a small nod. "I'm sorry you heard all that."

"I'm glad I did."

I was quite shocked my all things

Cheryl said about me. But what can I say, I don't really know her.

And with that, I walked away.

For once, I didn't feel weak.

I felt... awake.