Chapter 3 Two Strangers Bound by Paper
Serena stood in front of the iron gates and wondered, for the first time in her life, if turning around would actually change anything.
The gates towered above her, black metal curling into sharp, elegant patterns that looked more like warnings than decoration. Beyond them, the Vale residence rose from the manicured grounds like a fortress, with stone walls washed in pale morning light, tall windows that reflected the sky without revealing anything inside. Security cameras followed every angle, their dark lenses quietly alert.
Everything about the place whispered the same message.
You don’t belong here.
Serena tightened her grip on her handbag. The leather strap was worn thin from years of use, softened by familiarity, unlike everything in front of her now. She felt painfully aware of herself, her simple dress, her flat shoes, the way her shoulders instinctively curved inward as if to make herself smaller.
She checked the time on her phone.
9:59 a.m.
On time. Of course she was.
Being late had never been an option in her life. When you owed the world more than it gave you, punctuality became a form of survival.
A sleek black car idled just inside the gate, engine humming softly, patient and expensive. It didn’t rush. It didn’t need to. Everything here operated on its own schedule.
Serena inhaled slowly and pressed the buzzer.
There was no greeting. No confirmation.
The gates simply opened.
Gravel crunched beneath her shoes as she walked through, each step echoing too loudly in the quiet. The air smelled clean, trimmed, artificial—nothing like the city streets she knew. The front doors of the mansion stood open before she reached them, wide and waiting, as though her arrival had never been in question.
A woman in a crisp uniform met her at the entrance.
“Miss Hale,” the woman said politely, her smile practiced but distant. “Please follow me.”
Serena nodded, forcing her feet to move.
Inside, the mansion was cool, the air controlled and faintly perfumed. Marble floors gleamed beneath her, reflecting light from chandeliers that hung like frozen constellations. Every surface shone. Every detail was deliberate.
The walls were lined with abstract pieces, oil paintings, and sculptures mounted on pedestals. They felt less like decoration and more like proof. Wealth displayed without apology.
Family portraits followed down the hall.
The Vale family, frozen in perfect moments. Dominic Vale stood at the center of most photographs, tall and commanding. Helena Vale was beside him, elegant and composed. Their children were arranged like assets, smiling, polished, distant.
None of them looked warm.
Serena clasped her hands together as they walked, her pulse steady but heavy. She didn’t slow down. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of hesitation.
They entered a spacious sitting room flooded with light from floor-to-ceiling windows.
Dominic Vale stood near one of them, hands clasped behind his back, posture straight and immovable. He turned as she entered, sharp eyes sweeping over her in a single, efficient glance.
Helena Vale rose from her seat almost immediately.
“Miss Hale,” Dominic said, his voice smooth, authoritative. “You’re punctual.”
“Yes, sir,” Serena replied quietly.
Helena gestured to a chair. “Please, sit.”
Serena sat, carefully, perched near the edge as if the furniture itself might reject her weight. Her bag rested in her lap like an anchor.
Dominic took the seat across from her and placed a thin folder on the glass table between them. The sound it made felt too loud.
“This,” he said, “is the contract.”
Serena stared at it.
White paper. Black ink. Clean margins.
Her future, bound neatly in pages.
“I haven’t agreed to this,” she said softly.
Dominic didn’t react. “Your father has.”
“That doesn’t make it mine.”
Helena’s fingers tightened slightly around her teacup.
“Serena,” she said gently, using her name as if it might soften the blow, “we know this situation is… difficult. But we hope you’ll see this as an opportunity.”
Serena lifted her gaze. “An opportunity to marry a man who doesn’t want me?”
The silence that followed was sharp.
Then footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Slow. Heavy. Unhurried.
Serena turned.
He entered without acknowledging her at first.
Adrian Vale.
He wore black from head to toe, tailored trousers, a fitted shirt, and a jacket slung over one arm. His sleeves were rolled back slightly, exposing strong forearms. His hair was tousled, as if he hadn’t bothered to tame it for this meeting.
He looked exhausted.
Not weak. Not careless.
Empty.
He stopped a few steps from the wall and leaned against it, arms crossing loosely. Only then did his eyes lift.
They met Serena.
For a moment, the world narrowed.
She noticed his eyes first dark, sharp, distant. Eyes that had seen too much and chosen to feel too little. His gaze swept over her quickly: her dress, her shoes, her rigid posture.
Something unreadable flickered across his face.
“So,” he said flatly, “this is her.”
The words hit harder than she expected.
Helena frowned. “Adrian....”
He didn’t look at his mother. His attention stayed on Serena.
“You’re younger than I expected,” he added.
Serena straightened, heat rising beneath her calm.
“And you’re colder,” she replied before she could stop herself.
The room froze.
Adrian’s brow lifted slightly, a faint spark of amusement breaking through his indifference.
“Well,” he said lightly, “at least she speaks.”
Serena’s hands clenched in her lap.
“I don’t want this marriage,” she said, meeting his gaze head-on. “And I won’t pretend otherwise.”
Adrian chuckled softly. “Good. Because neither do I.”
Dominic cleared his throat. “This is not the time....”
“Let her finish,” Adrian said, eyes never leaving Serena.
She swallowed. “I was never asked,” she continued. “My life was decided without me. Just like yours, I assume.”
Something shifted.
“You assume wrong,” Adrian replied coolly. “I was told.”
Serena hesitated. “Then we’re the same.”
“No,” he said, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. “We’re not.”
He stopped at a careful distance away.
“This is a contract,” Adrian continued. “Nothing more. You’ll live here. You’ll play the role. And when it ends, you walk away.”
Serena searched his face. “And if I refuse?”
Adrian glanced at his father. Then back at her.
“You won’t,” he said calmly. “Because you can’t afford to.”
The honesty stung worse than cruelty.
Dominic slid the folder toward her. “Read it. Then decide.”
Serena lowered her eyes.
Her name was already printed on the final page.
All that was missing was her signature.
She lifted her gaze again, meeting Adrian’s eyes.
“I hope,” she said quietly, “that you never treat me the way you speak to me.”
Adrian turned away.
“You should hope,” he said over his shoulder, “that you don’t fall in love with the man you’re forced to marry.”
Serena’s breath caught.
Because in that moment, she realized the truth.
This man wasn’t just dangerous to her freedom.
He was dangerous to her heart.