Chapter 3

“Careful. You wouldn’t want to break anything.”

Victoria stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, her expression smug.

Elena straightened, hugging the book to her chest. “I was just looking around.”

Victoria’s eyes drifted over Elena’s dress, a flicker of disdain crossing her face. “You certainly seem... comfortable here.”

Elena’s smile faltered. “It’s my home now.”

Victoria’s laugh was light, airy. “Is it? Or are you just... visiting?”

Elena’s chest tightened, her fingers digging into the book’s cover. “Liam and I are married. This is my home too.”

Victoria’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “For now.” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But this place... it has a way of swallowing people like you.”

Before Elena could respond, Victoria was gone, her laughter echoing through the hall.

Elena sank onto a nearby chair, her heart racing. She looked down at the book in her hands—a collection of poetry about love and loss. Her fingers trembled as she opened it, the words blurring before her eyes.

This was supposed to be her perfect beginning. Her happily ever after.

So why did she feel like an outsider in her own home?

And why did she feel like she was losing herself... piece by piece?

Elena closed the book, the echo of Victoria’s words haunting her.

This place... it has a way of swallowing people like you.Days turned into weeks, and Elena settled into her new life as Mrs. Harrington. She decorated the rooms with fresh flowers, learned the routines of the house staff, and filled the halls with laughter and warmth. Every morning, she woke up in Liam’s arms, his sleepy smile the first thing she saw.

It was perfect. Almost too perfect.

Liam’s career demanded long hours, but he always made time for her. He would call her during the day just to say he missed her voice, send her flowers with notes that made her heart flutter, and take her out to dinners where he’d look at her like she was the only person in the room.

Yet, shadows lingered.

Eleanor’s presence was constant, her cold eyes watching Elena’s every move. Sometimes Elena would feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up, only to turn and find Eleanor silently observing from a doorway, her face expressionless.

“You’re doing well, I suppose,” Eleanor commented one afternoon as Elena arranged flowers in the sitting room. “But be careful not to overstep. Tradition is very important in this family.”

Elena looked up, her hands pausing. “I don’t want to change anything. I just want to make this place feel like home.”

Eleanor’s smile was thin, her gaze drifting to the flowers. “Home is earned, Elena. It’s not something you can simply... arrange.” She turned, her perfume lingering in the air as she walked away. “Especially not by someone who doesn’t understand its worth.”

The words stung, sinking deep. Elena fought the urge to cry, refusing to let Eleanor see her weakness. But when she told Liam later that evening, he just sighed, his fingers rubbing his temples.

“She’ll come around,” he assured her. “She’s just... protective.”

Elena wanted to believe him. She needed to believe him.

But Eleanor wasn’t the only one who made her feel like an intruder.

Victoria continued her subtle jabs, always delivered with a smile that never reached her eyes. She would visit unannounced, casually reminding Elena of her own wealthy upbringing, dropping comments about exclusive social circles that Elena couldn’t possibly understand.

“Oh, you wouldn’t know about that,” Victoria would say with a light laugh. “It’s just one of those things that’s... inherited.”

The worst was when Victoria mentioned Liam’s past relationships. She would describe beautiful, sophisticated women who were “perfect matches” for him, emphasizing how their families were old friends, how they were all part of the same world—a world Elena didn’t belong to.

One afternoon, Victoria stopped by, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Did you know Liam almost married Isabella?” she asked, her voice casual, but her gaze piercing.

Elena’s heart skipped. “No... he never mentioned her.”

Victoria’s smile widened. “Oh, they were inseparable. Everyone thought they were meant to be. Their families even discussed merging assets. But then...” She waved a hand dismissively. “Well, Isabella went abroad, and Liam got... distracted.”

Elena’s mouth went dry. “Distracted?”

Victoria leaned in, her voice a whisper. “With you, of course.” Her fingers brushed Elena’s arm, cold and light as a feather. “Isabella was devastated. They were perfect together. But then again... I suppose every man goes through a phase of wanting something... different.”

The words echoed in Elena’s mind long after Victoria left, planting seeds of doubt that grew with each passing day.

That evening, Elena tried to ask Liam about Isabella, her voice casual as they lay tangled together on the couch. “Do you ever think about her?” she asked, her heart pounding.

Liam’s eyes flicked to hers, his expression unreadable. “No. Why would I?”

“I just... I heard you were close.”

He sighed, his fingers tightening around hers. “It was a long time ago, Elena. It meant nothing.”

His voice was firm, final. But he didn’t meet her eyes when he said it.

Elena tried to push the doubts away, but they followed her like shadows. Every time she walked through the grand hallways, she felt the weight of the portraits watching her, judging her.

In the evenings, she wandered the mansion, exploring its vast rooms, its hidden corners. She discovered an old music room filled with antique instruments and dusty sheet music, a forgotten library filled with leather-bound books, and a small garden hidden behind tall hedges, its flowers wild and overgrown.

It was beautiful. But it was also lonely.

One night, as she wandered the halls, she heard voices drifting from Liam’s study. The door was slightly ajar, and she paused, curiosity getting the better of her.

“I’m doing everything you asked,” Liam’s voice was tight, controlled. “But you need to give me more time.”

Eleanor’s voice was colder, sharper. “Time is a luxury we can’t afford. You’re already making too many compromises. You’re letting her get too comfortable.”

Elena’s heart sank. Her. They were talking about her.

Liam’s voice softened. “I love her.”

There was a pause, then Eleanor’s laugh—cold and bitter. “Love is a weakness, Liam. One that you can’t afford. Not in this family.”

Elena’s chest tightened, tears stinging her eyes. She turned, fleeing before she could hear more.

In their bedroom, she sat on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling. Love is a weakness.

When Liam joined her later, his smile was warm, his eyes soft as he kissed her goodnight. But Elena couldn’t forget his words.

You’re letting her get too comfortable.

As she lay beside him, her body curled against his, the doubt grew, wrapping around her heart like a vine.

She loved him. She trusted him. But she couldn’t ignore the shadows creeping in.Days passed, but Elena couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. It lingered in the corners of her mind, surfacing when she least expected it—during quiet moments when Liam was at work and the house felt too big, too empty.

She tried to distract herself, pouring her energy into making their house a home. She redecorated the guest rooms, learned to cook Liam’s favorite meals, and even tried her hand at gardening, determined to bring life to the neglected garden she had discovered.

But no matter how hard she tried, the shadows followed her.

It didn’t help that Eleanor’s words echoed in her mind. “Home is earned... especially not by someone who doesn’t understand its worth.”

Elena found herself tiptoeing around Eleanor, careful not to do anything that could be seen as overstepping. She kept her conversations polite, her actions measured, but it never seemed to be enough.

Eleanor’s comments were always subtle, always calculated.

“You’re certainly trying,” Eleanor observed one afternoon as she watched Elena arranging flowers. “Though it’s quite different from what Liam’s used to. His previous companions had... a more refined touch.”

Elena’s fingers stilled, a vase slipping slightly in her grip. “I’m doing my best.”

Eleanor’s smile was thin. “I’m sure you are. But some things can’t be learned. They’re... inherited.” Her gaze was pointed, a reminder that Elena didn’t come from wealth, didn’t belong in this world.

Elena swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing a smile. “I just want Liam to be happy.”

Eleanor’s eyes flicked to her, a shadow crossing her face. “Happiness is fleeting, Elena. And love... well, love is just an illusion.”

The words haunted Elena long after Eleanor left, echoing in her mind as she moved through the house.

Love is just an illusion.

She didn’t want to believe it. She wouldn’t. But doubts were starting to creep in, fed by the whispers she heard in the hallways, the cold looks from Eleanor, and the lingering tension whenever Victoria visited.

It was during one of Victoria’s visits that the doubts grew even deeper.

Victoria arrived unannounced, as usual, her perfume filling the room before she did. She swept in, her movements graceful and practiced, her lips curving into a smile that was more predator than friend.

“Elena, darling, still playing house, I see,” Victoria cooed, her eyes flicking over the decorations Elena had put up. “How quaint.”

Elena forced herself to smile. “I’m just trying to make it feel like home.”

Victoria’s eyes narrowed, her smile sharp. “Oh, I’m sure you are. But don’t you think you’re trying too hard? After all, you can’t change who you are... where you came from.”

Elena’s cheeks burned. “I’m not trying to change anything. I just want to be good enough for Liam.”

Victoria’s laughter was cold, echoing off the walls. “Good enough? Oh, darling, that’s the problem. You’ll never be good enough. Not for him. Not for this family.”

The words cut deep, hitting every insecurity Elena tried to hide. She gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white. “Liam loves me. That’s all that matters.”

Victoria’s eyes gleamed with malice. “Does he? Or did he just settle for you because he couldn’t have what he really wanted?”

Elena’s heart dropped. “What... what do you mean?”

Victoria’s smile widened. “Oh, come now. You must have heard about Isabella. They were perfect for each other. Same background, same status... same world. She was everything he needed. Everything you’re not.”

Elena’s breath caught, her chest tightening. “He... he said it was in the past.”

“Did he?” Victoria’s voice was dripping with fake sympathy. “Funny. Because I saw him with her last week. They seemed... close.”

The room spun, Elena’s vision blurring. “No... you’re lying.”

Victoria’s expression softened, her voice a whisper. “Am I? Or are you just refusing to see the truth?” She touched Elena’s arm, her fingers cold. “Liam’s world is different from yours. You’ll never be part of it, no matter how hard you try.”

With that, she turned and walked away, her laughter echoing down the hall.

Elena stood frozen, her mind reeling. She wanted to dismiss Victoria’s words as lies, as spiteful manipulation. But the seeds of doubt were planted, their roots sinking deep.

That night, when Liam came home, she tried to act normal, forcing herself to smile and laugh as he recounted his day. But she was distracted, her mind replaying Victoria’s words over and over.

When he kissed her, she wondered if he was thinking of Isabella. When he whispered I love you, she wondered if he meant it.

She lay awake that night, her body curled away from his, her heart aching. She felt foolish, childish even, for doubting him. But she couldn’t stop the fear growing inside her.

Am I just his second choice?

The question haunted her, keeping her awake long after Liam fell asleep. She watched the shadows dance on the ceiling, feeling more alone than ever.

She wanted to confront him, to ask him about Isabella, about his family, about everything. But fear kept her silent. Fear of the answers, fear of losing him, fear of facing the truth.

So she stayed quiet, burying her doubts deep inside. She clung to the dream she had built, the life she had created with him, even as the foundation began to crack.