Chapter 2 The Cold Prison

The night of their wedding was nothing like the fairytales Elena had once imagined as a little girl. There were no sweeping dances, no laughter, no celebration. Instead, there was an oppressive silence that hung in the air of the grand mansion Killian called home. The vast, opulent hallways felt like endless corridors of emptiness, each step she took deeper into the luxurious prison she had unwittingly signed up for.

Killian hadn't even looked at her as she walked down the aisle. His eyes had been focused on the altar, the cold gleam of his suit more enthralling to him than the woman he was meant to marry. Elena's heart twisted as she recalled the fleeting moment when they'd exchanged vows vows that had been forced on her by threats, not love.

"I do," she had said, her voice a whisper of resignation, sealing her fate forever. And then, she'd heard him utter the same words, but there was no warmth behind them, only a chilling indifference. To Killian, this was a transaction a mere formality to seal his control over her life and her father's company.Now, as she sat in the cold, vast bedroom, the heavy weight of the reality she had entered crushed her with every passing second. The room was immaculate, the sheets crisp, and the air was far too cold for comfort, yet it suffocated her more than any heat could.

The lavish surroundings, the expensive decorations it all felt like a gilded cage, and she was the bird trapped inside.

Elena stood by the window, her back to the door, staring out at the city lights below, which twinkled like stars that were far out of her reach. She couldn't bring herself to look at Killian, who was silently undressing across the room. His movements were cold, methodical like he was preparing for a battle, not the union of two people.

She had expected a night of duty. She had expected a night where he would do what was necessary to consummate their marriage. But what she hadn't expected was the heavy, silent weight of hatred that seemed to hang over every moment. He despised her. She could feel it in every breath he took, every step he made. There was no warmth in his eyes when they briefly met hers, only cold disdain.

"You can sit in silence all night if you wish, Elena," Killian's voice sliced through the stillness, sending a shiver down her spine.

His tone was even, but there was something dark lurking beneath it. "But it changes nothing. You are my wife now, and that means you will do what is expected of you."Her breath caught in her throat. Her mind screamed at her to say something, to defend herself, but she knew it was futile. She had no power here. Her body and soul belonged to him now. She had signed herself away to this nightmare, and the reality was slowly sinking in there was no escaping it. No way out.

"You are free to keep your distance, if that makes you feel more comfortable," Killian continued, as he finally turned to face her. "But know this you will never be more than a trophy wife to me. I will never pretend to care for you. This marriage is a business arrangement, nothing more."Each word felt like a slap to her soul.

She had known this would be the case. She had known from the moment she had signed the contract that she would never be more than a pawn. But hearing him say it out loud was another wound altogether. His indifference stung more than his harshest words.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, the tears threatening to spill, but she would not let them fall not in front of him. She refused to show weakness."What do you want from me?" she whispered, her voice shaking with a mixture of fear and disbelief. "I've already given you everything. I've signed the contract. What more do you want?"

Killian's lips curled into a cruel smile, and for a moment, his gaze softened just for an instant before the mask of control and coldness returned."I want you to understand your place," he said softly, almost dangerously. "You are nothing to me, Elena. You are a tool. A means to an end. The sooner you accept that, the easier it will be for both of us."

His words were poison, and yet they rang with an uncomfortable truth.

She was a tool. She had been from the moment he had blackmailed her into this marriage. The realization was like a stone sinking to the pit of her stomach. And then, he was walking toward her, his every step deliberate and steady, as though the distance between them was a simple formality. He reached her without hesitation, the space between them growing impossibly small."Elena, do you know what makes a marriage work?" he asked, his voice low and commanding.Her heart raced as she slowly shook her head, unsure where this conversation was heading.

"Power," he said, the word dripping from his lips like a poison. "Respect is earned through power. And you, my dear wife, have nothing that can earn respect. You'll be obedient, quiet, and, above all else, you will *know* that you are beneath me."She recoiled at his touch as his hand brushed against her arm, his fingers colder than ice. It was a casual touch, nothing more than an assessment, but it sent a wave of disgust through her. She felt dirty just standing there.

As the minutes ticked by, Elena sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of her new life closing in on her. She had never felt more alone. She could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning, the soft rustling of the sheets beneath her, but none of it mattered. The silence between them was a wall, thicker and more suffocating than anything she had ever known.Killian had dismissed her, his presence receding into the darkness of the room as he moved to the opposite side, where the windows gave him a perfect view of the city. He didn't even look at her. Not once.

The emptiness in the room was deafening. Elena had expected him to demand things from her, perhaps a semblance of affection or physical connection.

But no, he was simply cold. He was a stranger a stranger whose hatred she could almost feel radiating off him, even as he pretended to ignore her existence.Her chest tightened as she glanced at the ring on her finger a massive diamond that now felt like a shackle, heavier than any chain.

She was bound to this man, bound to a future that had been decided for her, and there was no escape.

But even worse than the sense of entrapment was the realization that she had no choice but to live with his contempt. There would be no tenderness, no moments of reprieve. She was to be a silent, obedient wife a trophy to be displayed on his arm, but never truly seen.The minutes stretched into hours as she lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts a chaotic whirl of anger, fear, and disbelief. She had been forced into this life, but that didn't mean she had to accept it without a fight.

But how could she fight someone like Killian? A man who had everything power, wealth, control and took everything he wanted without hesitation.

The door to the bathroom creaked open, and she glanced up to see Killian step out, his sharp, chiselled features framed by the dim light. He hadn't even looked at her as he walked past, and Elena couldn't help but feel like an invisible object in his world.

Her mind screamed for her to stand up for herself, to say something, anything. But the truth was, she had no voice here.

Her entire life had been swallowed by the weight of his power, and the man who was supposed to be her husband could not have cared less."Goodnight, Elena," he said without turning back to her, his voice a low whisper that barely registered in the vast emptiness between them.

The door clicked shut behind him, and she was left alone in the cold silence, her heart shattered in a thousand pieces.

The next morning, Elena woke to the cold, unyielding emptiness of her new life.

The soft sheets were a painful reminder of the prison she had entered. The luxury that surrounded her only served to magnify her isolation. Every inch of the room, every corner of the mansion, screamed of a life that was no longer her own.She didn't dare move. She didn't dare break the silence. Every moment she spent here felt like another piece of herself slipping away, leaving her hollow. She had traded her soul for a future she couldn't even imagine.

As she turned her head to the side, she saw the reflection of herself in the mirror across the room a woman who had lost everything, even before the marriage had truly begun.She had hoped for a glimmer of kindness, some small thread of humanity from her new husband. But it had been nothing but cold, empty rejection. And in that moment, she knew.

Killian Blackwood would never let her forget her place.

Her wedding night had been the beginning of a life where love was an illusion, and obedience was the only thing that mattered. She was trapped, not by chains, but by his hatred, by her own helplessness, and by the unbearable weight of her vows.And she had nowhere to run.