The morning sunlight filtered softly through the sheer white curtains, casting a warm glow across the spacious bedroom. Ivy Anderson stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open as reality slowly settled in.
For a moment, she forgot everything.
But then… it hit her.
The contract. The marriage. Carter Wood.
She sat up straight, her fingers gripping the bedsheet as her gaze wandered across the unfamiliar room. Everything about this place screamed luxury—elegant furniture, polished marble floors, and a silence that felt too heavy to ignore.
This wasn't her home.
And Carter… wasn't her husband. Not really.
Just a contract.
Ivy stepped out of the room, her footsteps hesitant as she made her way downstairs. The house was quiet, almost too quiet, as if it was used to being empty.
"Good morning, ma'am," a polite voice greeted her.
Ivy turned to see a middle-aged housekeeper standing respectfully near the dining area.
"Good morning…" Ivy replied softly, still adjusting to being addressed like this.
"Sir has already left for work," the woman informed her. "He asked me to make sure you have breakfast."
Of course he did.
Ivy nodded slightly. "Thank you."
She sat at the large dining table, the chair across from her empty.
That emptiness felt… strange.
Last night, Carter had been right there—cold, distant, yet somehow impossible to ignore. And now, he was gone without even a word.
Why did that bother her?
She didn't know.
And she didn't want to know.
Meanwhile, across the city, Carter Wood stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, overlooking the bustling skyline. His expression was as composed as ever, but his mind wasn't entirely on work.
It kept drifting back… to her.
Ivy Anderson.
He hadn't expected her to be so… different.
She wasn't intimidated. She wasn't overly polite. And she definitely wasn't trying to impress him.
If anything, she looked at him like she was trying to figure him out.
That was new.
"Sir?" his assistant's voice broke his thoughts.
Carter turned sharply, his usual cold demeanor returning instantly. "Yes?"
"The meeting with the board is in ten minutes."
"I'll be there."
As the assistant left, Carter exhaled slowly, pushing those thoughts aside.
This marriage was just a deal.
Nothing more.
And he needed to keep it that way.
Back at the house, Ivy finished her breakfast quickly. Sitting there alone made her feel… uncomfortable.
She needed to do something.
"I'm going to the hospital," she informed the housekeeper.
The woman looked slightly surprised but nodded. "Of course, ma'am."
The hospital felt like home.
The moment Ivy stepped inside, everything became familiar—the scent of antiseptic, the hurried footsteps, the quiet tension in the air.
This was her world.
"Dr. Anderson!" a nurse called out, smiling warmly. "You're back!"
Ivy smiled in return, feeling a sense of relief she hadn't realized she needed.
"Yes, I am."
"Congratulations on your marriage!" the nurse added excitedly.
Ivy's smile faltered for just a second.
"Thank you," she replied, keeping her tone steady.
If only they knew.
Hours passed quickly as Ivy immersed herself in work. Patients, reports, consultations—everything demanded her full attention, leaving no room for unnecessary thoughts.
Until…
"You're married now, huh?"
Ivy turned to see her colleague and close friend, Riya, leaning against the doorframe with a teasing smile.
"News travels fast," Ivy sighed.
Riya walked in, crossing her arms. "You didn't even tell me! And suddenly you're married to that Carter Wood?"
Ivy hesitated.
How was she supposed to explain this?
"It's… complicated."
Riya raised an eyebrow. "Complicated or secret?"
"Both," Ivy admitted quietly.
Riya's expression softened. "Are you okay?"
That question lingered in the air.
Was she okay?
"I don't know," Ivy whispered.
That evening, Ivy returned home, exhaustion evident in every step.
As she entered the living room, she froze.
Carter was there.
Sitting on the couch, his posture relaxed but his presence still commanding.
"You're late," he said, without looking at her.
Ivy frowned slightly. "I was at the hospital."
"I'm aware," he replied calmly.
Silence followed.
It was uncomfortable.
Unfamiliar.
And yet… strangely intense.
"You didn't have to wait," Ivy finally said.
Carter looked at her then, his gaze sharp but unreadable. "This is our house now. I don't 'wait.'"
His words were clear, but something in his tone… wasn't.
Ivy looked away, placing her bag on the table. "Right."
She started to walk past him, but his voice stopped her.
"We need to set some rules."
Ivy turned back slowly. "Rules?"
"Yes." Carter stood up, his tall frame closing the distance between them effortlessly. "This marriage may be a contract, but to the outside world, it's real."
"I know that."
"Then act like it."
Something about that irritated her.
"I am acting," Ivy replied, her voice firm. "I'm not the one who left without saying a word this morning."
For a brief moment, Carter looked… surprised.
No one usually spoke to him like that.
"Noted," he said after a pause.
Ivy crossed her arms. "Anything else?"
Carter studied her for a second longer than necessary. "We maintain appearances. No unnecessary emotional involvement."
There it was.
Cold. Clear. Final.
Ivy nodded slowly. "Agreed."
But why did that feel… disappointing?
Later that night, Ivy stood by the balcony, the cool breeze brushing against her skin.
The city lights shimmered below, alive and beautiful.
Yet she felt… alone.
This marriage was supposed to be simple.
A contract. A responsibility. Nothing more.
So why did it feel like something was slowly changing?
And why did Carter Wood, of all people, make her feel things she didn't understand?
Inside the room, Carter watched her from a distance.
He didn't know why he hadn't gone to his study yet.
Or why his eyes kept finding her.
She looked fragile standing there… but he knew she wasn't.
There was strength in her.
A quiet kind.
Dangerous, even.
Because it made him… curious.
And curiosity was something he couldn't afford.
Not in this arrangement.
Not with her.
As the night deepened, both of them remained awake—separated by walls, by silence… and by the invisible line they had agreed not to cross.
But somewhere between unspoken words and lingering glances…
That line had already begun to blur.