hapter 6
The limousine ride was silent, but not uncomfortable. I sat beside Rozen, staring out the window as the city lights blurred into streaks of gold and silver. My fingers grazed the hem of my wedding dress, the fabric soft, expensive. Everything happened so fast. One moment, I was standing in front of Amber’s chaos, and now I was legally Mrs. Blackwood When we arrived, I expected grandeur–but not this. His estate wasn’t just big. It was massive. Regal iron gates opened slowly to a private road lined with cherry blossom trees, and in the distance, a mansion emerged, elegant and intimidating in equal measure. Everything screamed power and old money.
Rozen stepped out first, then extended his hand to me. “Welcome to your new home,” he said dryly.
Inside, marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. High ceilings, of paintings, a sweeping staircase–it felt like something out of a royal film. A butler grested us, followed by staff who bowed slightly as we passed. I kept my expression neutral, even as awe swirled inside me.
Rozen led me up the stairs and stopped at a pair of large double doors.
“This is your room,” he said, pushing them open.
I stepped in, my breath catching. It was larger than my entire apartment before all this. The bed looked like it could fit five people, with satin sheets and a velvet headboard. Floor–to–ceiling windows offered a view of the estate gardens. There was even a fireplace flickering gently.
“I figured you’d prefer space,” Rozen continued. “Just because we’re married doesn’t mean we have to share a room.”
I turned to him, lifting a brow. “Aren’t we newlyweds?”
He scoffed. “This marriage is for convenience. I need a wife for inheritance reasons. You need revenge, freedom, whatever it is. So, let’s stick to the deal.”
I crossed my arms. “And what exactly is that deal?”
“You act the part of my wife when I need you. Banquets, parties, charity galas. You wear the ring, smile, and play nice. In return, you get your freedom–and your revenge.”
I tilted my head. “About that… there’s a project I’ve been eyeing. It’s based abroad, and it lasts for a year. I want to be part of it.”
Rozen didn’t look surprised. He leaned against the doorframe. “You can do it. But when I need you, you come back. No arguments.”
I nodded. “Fair enough.”
He pushed off the frame, walking toward me with that same cool arrogance. “One more thing,” he said, voice low. “No strings attached. No falling in love.”
A bitter laugh escaped me. “That won’t be a problem. Love is the last thing I’m interested in.”
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19:23 Fri, 18 Apr De
Rozen smirked. “Good. Because if one of us catches feelings, there’ll be consequences.”
“What kind of consequences?”
“Let’s just say… whoever falls first pays a price. Financial. Emotional. Legal, maybe.”
My smile was dry. “Then I guess you’ll be safe. Because I don’t plan on falling in love ever again.”
We shook hands. That was it. Our deal sealed not with a kiss, but with a contract of emotional detachment. And oddly enough, it was exactly what I needed.
Later that evening, I stood by the window of my new room, arms wrapped around myself. I wasn’t sad. Not anymore. I felt oddly… calm. Like the storm had passed, and what was left was just silence. And maybe a little satisfaction.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand.
I walked over and picked it up.
Thomas.
“Jasmine, I’m sorry. I should’ve trusted you.”
Then another.
Scott.
“I was wrong. Everything was wrong. Please, talk to me.”
I blinked. Message after message poured in. Calls too. They were desperate. Pitiful. Now
that the truth was out, the tables had turned. And they were crawling back.
I took screenshots of everything.
And then, with deliberate precision, I opened a new message and typed:
To Amber: So… what does it feel like knowing your men are crawling back to me? 🙂
I hit send.
I stared at the screen for a few more seconds, then tossed the phone onto the bed. No guilt. No hesitation. Just a sense of justice slowly being restored.
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19:23 Fri, 18 Apr
The calls wouldn’t stop.
