Chapter 4 - The Unseen Truth
It took me three attempts to find the hidden zipper pull beneath the cascade of satin buttons at the back of the gown, my fingers clumsy and shaking with adrenaline.
Niko didn't offer to help, but he didn't leave either. He stood up, walked over to a mahogany wardrobe on the far side of the bedroom, and pulled out a clean, oversized black cashmere sweater and a pair of soft gray lounge pants.
“Here,” he said, tossing them onto the end of the bed. “They belong to my sister when she visits. They’ll swallow you whole, but they’re better than sleeping in armor.”
Without waiting for a reply, he walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
I let out a shuddering breath I felt like I’d been holding since dawn. I stripped off the suffocating wedding gown, letting the heavy ivory satin pool around my ankles like fallen snow. Beneath it, I wore only a simple, modest cotton slip—practical, unsexy, and entirely devoid of the lace and silk fantasies associated with bridal lingerie.
I pulled on Niko’s sister’s oversized cashmere sweater, the soft fabric swallowing my hands, and curled up on the edge of the massive king bed, pulling my knees to my chest.
Ten minutes later, the door opened quietly.
Niko walked back in, having removed his suit jacket and loosened his collar. He stopped when he saw me sitting there, wrapped in cashmere, looking smaller and younger than the polished debutante who had walked down the cathedral aisle hours earlier.
His eyes swept over me—and then paused.
A subtle shift occurred in his posture. His gaze dropped from my face down to the exposed expanse of my collarbone, my bare shoulders, and the simple cotton neckline of the slip beneath the oversized sweater.
He had expected the experienced, cynical socialite of the gossip columns. He had expected a woman who treated intimacy like another currency traded in the dark corners of high society.
Instead, standing across the room in the soft amber glow of the bedside lamps, Niko realized with sudden, staggering clarity that the woman he had just married—the girl whose reputation had been dragged through every tabloid in the city—was entirely untouched.
The silence between us changed shape, thickening with an electric, unspoken realization.
“You’ve never been with anyone,” Niko said, the words leaving his mouth not as an accusation, but as a statement of absolute, undeniable fact.
My heart skipped a beat. Heat rushed violently up my neck, flooding my cheeks with crimson. I turned my face away, staring blindly at the dark windowpanes.
“Shut up,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
Niko didn't mock me. He didn't smile. He slowly closed the distance between us, his footsteps silent on the hardwood floor until he stopped right beside the bed.
“Look at me, Elena,” he commanded softly.
I turned my head back, my chin trembling despite my best efforts to hold it together.
“How?” he asked, his gray eyes searching mine with a bewildering mix of awe and disbelief. “In your world—with your background, the parties, the constant spotlight—how did you manage to keep everyone out?”
“Because everyone in that world only loves what they can consume,” I whispered fiercely, tears finally spilling over again. “They want the title, the photo, the headline, the trophy. Nobody ever wanted me. They just wanted the access. So I built a wall, Niko. I let them believe whatever lies they wanted to read in the morning paper, because as long as they thought I was a reckless party girl, they never bothered to look beneath the surface to see that there was nothing left inside worth taking.”
Niko stood frozen. The confession hung in the air between us, heavy and raw.
May you like
Then, slowly, deliberately, he reached out. His large, warm hand cupped the side of my face, his thumb gently wiping away a tear rolling down my cheek.
“They were fools,” Niko said, his voice rough and low, carrying a terrifying intensity that made my breath catch in my throat. “Every single one of them.”
