Chapter 3: The Silent Watcher

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Isabella blinked against the light, momentarily forgetting where she was.

Then it hit her.

She was in Alexander Knight’s mansion.

His wife.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

She sat up, taking in the massive bedroom—far too large for one person. Everything was luxurious yet cold, just like the man who owned it.

A soft knock on the door startled her.

"Come in," she said hesitantly.

A woman, probably in her late forties, stepped inside. Dressed in a neat black uniform, she carried a silver tray with breakfast. "Good morning, Mrs. Knight. My name is Margaret. I’ll be taking care of your needs."

Mrs. Knight.

The title felt foreign.

"I—thank you," Isabella muttered, still overwhelmed.

Margaret placed the tray on the nightstand and hesitated before speaking again. "If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask."

Isabella nodded, but before she could say anything, Margaret added in a quieter tone, "This house… it has many ears, Miss. Be careful."

A chill crawled up Isabella’s spine.

"What do you mean?" she asked, but Margaret merely bowed her head and left.

The words haunted her.

This house has many ears.

Was she being watched?

She shook off the uneasy feeling and decided to focus on the one thing she could control—going to college.

She got ready quickly, choosing a simple outfit—jeans and a blouse. If no one could know about her marriage, she had to act normal.

The moment Isabella stepped onto campus, the air felt different.

Everything was the same, yet she wasn’t.

Her friends, unaware of her secret, greeted her like always. The normalcy felt almost comforting.

But then, she felt it.

A presence.

A weight pressing against her back, like someone was watching.

She turned her head, scanning the crowd, but saw nothing unusual.

It was just paranoia… right?

As she walked toward her first class, a familiar voice called out.

"Isabella!"

She turned to see Victor Stone—tall, charismatic, and one of the most popular guys in college.

He grinned, stepping closer. "You disappeared for a few days. Thought you got kidnapped or something."

Her stomach twisted at the irony.

She forced a small laugh. "Just family stuff."

Victor’s sharp gaze flickered over her. "You okay? You look different."

Her breath hitched. Did he suspect something?

Before she could answer, a black SUV pulled up near the gates.

Her heart stopped.

She knew that car.

The windows were tinted, but she could feel it—someone was inside, watching her.

Watching who she talked to.

Victor followed her gaze. "Damn. Who drives around in something like that?" He chuckled. "Looks like mafia shit."

Isabella’s pulse quickened.

She needed to get away.

"See you later, Victor," she mumbled before hurrying toward her class.

The entire way, she felt it.

The weight of unseen eyes.

Someone was always watching.

She stormed into the house, her heart pounding in frustration.

Alexander was waiting in the living room, seated on an expensive leather couch, a glass of whiskey in hand. His suit jacket was off, his sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms.

He looked up lazily as she entered. "You’re back early."

She glared at him. "You had me followed."

His expression didn’t change. "Of course."

Her fists clenched. "You said I could live my life."

"I did," he said smoothly, taking a sip of his drink. "But I never said I wouldn’t be watching."

Her pulse pounded. "You had no right—"

"I have every right," he cut her off, his voice suddenly dark.

She froze.

He stood up, walking toward her with slow, deliberate steps.

"You are my wife, Isabella," he murmured, stopping just inches from her. "That means you are mine to protect. Whether you like it or not."

She swallowed hard.

His words should have felt like a threat.