Zara expected Adrian's house to be big.
She did not expect it to look like a location people rented for movies.
"This is not a house," she said, stepping out of the car. "This is a government project."
Adrian didn't respond.
Of course he didn't.
He was probably used to this level of ridiculousness.
Zara, however, was not.
She turned slowly, taking everything in—the massive gates, the perfectly trimmed gardens, the fountain that looked like it cost more than her entire existence.
"…If I get lost in here, just know I tried my best," she said.
"You won't get lost," Adrian replied, walking ahead.
"That sounds like something people say before others get lost."
Inside was worse.
Or better.
Or both.
Zara stepped in and immediately froze.
Marble floors.
Chandeliers.
Stairs that looked like they belonged in a palace.
"…Oh," she said softly. "So you're rich."
Adrian glanced at her.
"You didn't know?"
"I knew," she said quickly. "I just didn't know it was this offensive."
A woman in uniform approached them.
"Welcome home, sir," she said politely.
Then she turned to Zara.
"And you must be Mrs. Blackwood."
Zara choked.
"I'm sorry—who?"
Adrian didn't even blink.
"My wife," he said.
Zara turned to him slowly.
"We just signed the contract five minutes ago."
"Technically," he said, "you are my wife."
Zara looked back at the woman.
"…Give me a moment," she said, then dragged Adrian aside.
"You did not warn me about this," she whispered aggressively.
"About what?"
"About the fact that people would start calling me Mrs. Blackwood like I've been here since birth!"
"That is your role.
Zara stared at him. Then smiled.
"Oh, I'm about to enjoy this," she said.
Before he could respond, she turned back confidently. "Yes," she said to the staff. "I'm Mrs. Blackwood."
A pause….Then she added—
"Please don't expect me to behave."
Adrian closed his eyes briefly…This was going to be a long year.
Zara lasted exactly two hours before causing a problem.
In her defense, the house was too quiet.
…Suspiciously quiet.
Like something bad was about to happen.
So naturally—
She went exploring.
"This is how people die in movies," she muttered, opening random doors.
Library.
Guest room.
Another guest room.
Why were there so many guest rooms?
"Are you running a hotel?" she asked out loud.
"No."
Zara jumped.
Adrian stood behind her, looking as calm and annoying as ever.
"Do you walk around silently on purpose?" she snapped.
"Yes."
"That's creepy."
"You're not supposed to wander."
Zara crossed her arms.
"And you're not supposed to talk like you own me."
A pause.
"I do," he said.
Zara blinked.
Then laughed.
"Oh, this is going to be fun."
She stepped closer.
"Let me make something very clear," she said. "You paid for a contract. Not a slave."
Adrian's eyes darkened slightly.
"You will follow the rules."
"I will follow the ones I like," she corrected.
Silence.
Tension.
Then—
"Dinner is at seven," he said.
Zara frowned.
"…Is that supposed to intimidate me?"
"It's a schedule."
"I don't follow schedules."
"You do now."
Zara stared at him.
Then smiled slowly.
"Oh, I'm definitely not showing up."
Adrian's gaze held hers.
"Then don't eat."
Zara gasped.
"Wow," she said. "So this is how billionaires treat their wives? Starvation?"
"You have access to food."
"Not emotionally," she said.
A pause.
Then—unexpectedly—
Adrian sighed.
Actually sighed.
"Seven o'clock," he repeated, then walked away.
Zara watched him go.
Then shouted after him—
"I'm coming at eight .. Adrian a bit but did not say anything and finally left for his study
Zara grinned...