the first night

After the wedding, Evelyn entered the room that was apparently hers now.

The Ashford mansion was silent. Not peaceful. Not calm. Silent in a way that felt deliberate.

She didn’t hesitate.

She tore the wedding dress off her body, fingers rough, impatient. The fabric slid down her skin and pooled at her feet. One by one, she ripped out the pins, unclasped the necklace, yanked off the earrings. Pearls and diamonds hit the marble floor with sharp, accusing sounds.

She flung the dress aside like it was nothing.

Then she went straight to the bathroom and slammed the door hard enough to echo.

The bath took forever.

Hot water poured over her shoulders as she stood there, fists clenched, jaw tight, breathing shallow and angry. She scrubbed her skin as if she could erase the day, the vows, his name. By the time she stepped out, wrapped in a towel, her anger hadn’t faded. It had settled. Heavy. Smoldering.

She changed into her pajamas and scanned the room.

Empty.

No Silas.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Good.

He didn’t want her here.

She didn’t want him either.

She crawled onto the bed, too exhausted to think, and sleep dragged her under almost immediately.

The door opened after midnight.

Silas froze the moment he stepped inside.

His eyes went straight to the floor.

The wedding dress lay crumpled like trash. Jewelry scattered without care. His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking as something sharp and ugly twisted inside him.

Then he noticed the bed.

Occupied.

His expression darkened.

He crossed the room in long strides and ripped the blanket off her without warning.

“Get up.”

Evelyn jolted awake, heart slamming against her ribs. She sucked in a breath, confusion turning to fury in seconds.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

He didn’t answer.

His hand closed around her wrist and he dragged her off the bed.

She hit the floor hard, pain shooting through her side.

“Are you insane?” she screamed, scrambling up. “Have you completely lost your damn mind?”

“This is my bed,” Silas snapped, shrugging off his coat and tossing it onto a chair. “You don’t sleep in it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she yelled back, voice sharp with pain and rage. “Did you forget you married me today?”

He turned slowly, eyes cold.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said. “You should be grateful I’m not killing you tonight.”

She laughed, short and wild. “How generous. It’s actually me who deserves applause for not committing murder on her wedding night.”

His hand shot out, gripping her arm painfully.

“Don’t challenge me,” he warned. “You’re living under my roof.”

She shoved him back with all her strength. “Then stop acting like a child and go to another room. Or arrange one for me. Because being near you is unbearable.”

Silas’s expression twisted, irritation flashing before settling into something uglier.

“I can’t defy my father,” he said flatly. “Not yet. He wants a grandchild soon.” His lips curled. “It’s not going to happen. But until I have full authority over the business, I’m stuck with you.”

He gestured dismissively toward the room. “So sleep on the couch. Or the floor. I don’t care.”

Her chest heaved.

“If you’re so weak and powerless,” she yelled, “why do I have to suffer for it? Deal with your family yourself.”

His eyes darkened.

“Oh no,” he said quietly. “Do you think I’ve forgotten what you did to me?”

She froze.

“It’s not that I can’t do anything,” he continued, stepping closer. “I can. I just prefer watching you suffer. Right in front of me.”

The words hit harder than his grip.

She stared at him, breath uneven. The past surged up uninvited, sharp and ugly, stealing the retort from her mouth.

For the first time, she had nothing to throw back.

“Enjoy your empty bed,” she spat at last.

She turned and stormed out barefoot, slamming the door so hard the walls trembled.