I want something more

Chapter 5

The first few weeks of their fake marriage were a whirlwind of social engagements, lavish dinners, and carefully curated public appearances. Iris, the once-struggling artist, was now transformed into a woman of elegance and sophistication, her wardrobe filled with designer clothes, her hair impeccably styled.

She felt like a chameleon, changing her skin to blend in with the world Xyron had introduced her to. The world of high society, of power and influence, felt both exciting and suffocating. She missed the simplicity of her old life, the freedom of her art studio, the warmth of her grandmother's love.

But she also felt a sense of accomplishment, a sense of purpose. She was helping her grandmother, she was providing for her family, and she was, in a strange way, creating a new life for herself.

One evening, after a particularly tedious charity gala, she found herself alone in Xyron's expansive library. The shelves were filled with leather-bound books, the air thick with the scent of old paper and polished wood. She wandered through the rows of books, her fingers tracing the spines, feeling a sense of awe and wonder.

Xyron, surprisingly, seemed to enjoy the quiet solitude of the library. He spent countless hours there, lost in the world of books and business.

She found him sitting in a plush armchair by the window, a book in his hand, a thoughtful expression on his face. He looked up when she entered, a hint of surprise in his eyes.

"Iris," he said, his voice soft, a contrast to the imposing presence he usually projected. "I didn't expect you here."

"I needed some quiet," she said, her voice low, her gaze lingering on the bookshelves. "The party was a bit overwhelming."

He nodded in understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the social world he had thrust her into.

"It's not for everyone," he said, his voice a low murmur. "But it's part of the game, part of the life we lead."

Iris, feeling a sense of kinship with him, decided to break the ice.

“I’ve always loved libraries,” she said, her eyes scanning the rows of books. “They feel like a safe haven, a place where you can escape the chaos of the world.”

“Indeed,” Xyron said, a rare smile gracing his lips. “They offer a sanctuary for the mind, a place to explore new ideas, to discover new worlds.”

He gestured towards a mahogany desk, its surface cluttered with papers and books. “This is where I spend most of my time,” he said, his voice softer now, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his tone. “It’s my refuge, my sanctuary. It’s where I feel most at home.”

Iris, sensing his vulnerability, approached the desk, her eyes scanning the papers and books scattered across its surface. She saw drafts of contracts, financial reports, and sketches of a new building project.

"This is your life," she said, her voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and awe. "Your world."

Xyron nodded, a hint of melancholy clouding his features. "It’s a world that demands a lot,” he said, his voice low and weary. “A world of constant pressure, of relentless ambition. It's a world that can consume you."

“And do you feel consumed by it, Xyron?” Iris asked, her voice soft, her concern sincere.

He looked up at her, his eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight. "I do," he said, his voice a low whisper. “It's a struggle, a constant battle against the demands of my family, the expectations of society. It's a world that can be very lonely.”

Iris, her heart filled with a mixture of empathy and a growing curiosity, leaned closer. “Is that why you chose this… arrangement? The fake marriage?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

Xyron’s eyes softened, a vulnerability creeping into his gaze. "Partly," he said, his voice a low murmur. “But it’s also about control. The illusion of a perfect life, a happy family. A way to shield myself from the scrutiny of the world.”

He paused, his gaze lingering on her, a hint of longing in his eyes. “But maybe,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, “maybe, I want something more.”

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