Bound by Paper

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room as Adrian stirred awake. His eyes fell on Hannah, still peacefully asleep in the bed, and for a brief moment, a feeling of unexpected happiness washed over him. Seeing her there, in his life, made him feel something deeper than he'd anticipated. She looked fragile and beautiful, and in that moment, he felt happier than he had in a long time, though he quickly composed himself.

Shaking off the lingering sentiment, he reached for his phone and called his assistant, Edward, instructing him to bring fresh clothes for both him and Hannah. In the meantime, Adrian arranged for workers to bring in all of Hannah's belongings, preparing his room to accommodate her.

After hanging up, Adrian called down to the hotel. "Make sure to prepare pancakes and fresh orange juice for breakfast," he requested, knowing they were Hannah's favorites. Edward soon arrived with the clothes, offering a quick nod as he handed Adrian the neatly folded items.

Adrian took the clothes and dismissed Edward. "Reschedule today's meetings to tomorrow and handle everything else. I'll be leaving for a trip to Boston in the evening," he instructed. Edward nodded and left swiftly to carry out his orders.

Adrian headed to the bathroom, freshening up and changing into a well-tailored suit. The dark jacket fit him perfectly, exuding power and confidence. He glanced at his reflection briefly, smoothing his hair, before stepping out into the room.

He settled on the sofa, waiting patiently as Hannah began to stir in bed. She groaned softly, her hand reaching up to rub her aching head. The remnants of last night's confusion and exhaustion still clung to her as she looked around, taking in her unfamiliar surroundings.

Her eyes landed on Adrian, sitting on the sofa, looking undeniably handsome. For a moment, she wondered how he always managed to appear so composed, so perfect. But then, reality set in, and her expression shifted from curiosity to anger. She realized she had woken up in the bed she swore she wouldn't sleep in.

Furious, she threw the blanket aside and marched over to Adrian. "How the hell did I end up in bed?" she demanded, her voice sharp. "You said you didn't need me, but now I'm in the bed? What did you do?"

Adrian watched her, his eyes calm as she vented her frustration. With a cool demeanor, he responded, "Hannah, you drank vodka last night, thinking it was water. You made a scene and... let's say, made a move on me."

Hannah's eyes widened, confusion and embarrassment flooding her. "What?"

Adrian stood up, pointing to his neck. "Look at this—these scratches? They're from you. You were the one all over me, not the other way around. I didn't touch you. In fact, if anything, I'm the victim here. There are no marks on you, but you've left plenty on me."

Her gaze fell to his neck, noticing the faint red scratches. The sight made her flinch. She opened her mouth to speak but found herself at a loss for words.

"Now," Adrian continued, his voice steady, "I've had a dress brought for you. Change into it. We need to head to the registry to finalize the marriage paperwork. Breakfast is ready in the dining area;He paused, then added, "After that, I have a meeting in Boston tomorrow, so I'll be leaving tonight. My assistant will take you back home and make sure you have everything you need."

Hannah stood there, torn between indignation and disbelief, her head still throbbing from the aftermath of the night before. Adrian's calm and collected manner left her speechless, and she could only nod reluctantly.

He looked at her for a moment, then turned his attention back to his phone, making a call as if the conversation had already ended.

Hannah glanced at the dress Adrian had provided, her fingers grazing the fine fabric. It was luxurious—a soft, pale blue satin that shimmered in the light, with delicate lace detailing along the sleeves and neckline. She hadn't worn anything so elegant in years, not since her stepfather passed away and her family's fortunes crumbled. The thought made her stomach turn. She never imagined herself in such expensive clothes again, but now, here she was—dressed like someone else, in a life she hadn't chosen.

After a long moment of reflection, she stepped out of the bathroom, the dress hugging her figure perfectly. It flowed elegantly to her knees, accentuating her delicate frame. Her hair, still slightly messy from sleep, contrasted beautifully against the soft hue of the dress. She looked stunning, even though her eyes were clouded with reluctance.

Adrian, sitting on the sofa, was casually watching TV but noticed her the second she emerged. He didn't say anything, but his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than he intended. She looked beautiful—more than he expected. He quickly shifted his attention, not wanting to reveal any hint of admiration.

Hannah, avoiding eye contact, went straight to the dining area. She quietly ate the breakfast that had been prepared for her—pancakes and fresh orange juice—though the food tasted bland to her in the face of the weight of her circumstances. Adrian watched her silently from the corner of his eye.

After she finished, Adrian stood up and said, "Shall we go?"

They drove to the registry office in silence, both wrapped in their own thoughts. The tension in the air was palpable, but neither of them spoke a word. When they arrived, the final step in formalizing their marriage awaited them—signing the papers.

As Adrian picked up the pen to sign, a swirl of disbelief and irony filled his mind. I never thought it would come to this... signing a marriage certificate with her. Hannah, of all people. His hand moved across the paper, his signature sharp and decisive, though his thoughts were far from clear. But this isn't a normal marriage. It's a necessity, a responsibility. For William, for her mother.

Meanwhile, Hannah's heart was pounding as she picked up her pen. I hate this. I hate everything about this... but I have no choice. There's no escape. Her hand trembled slightly as she signed her name next to Adrian's, sealing her fate in a way that felt all too real now.

Once they completed the process, Adrian turned to Edward, his assistant. "Take Hannah home," he instructed calmly. He handed Edward a sleek new smartphone. "And, Edward, give her this. It's hers now."

Hannah looked at the phone, her expression a mix of surprise and rejection. "No, I don't need it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Adrian took her hand gently, placing the phone in her palm. "Take it," he said firmly but not unkindly. "If you need anything, ask Julie, the housemaid. Or call Edward."

With that, Adrian stepped away, heading toward another car parked nearby—a sleek, black luxury sedan, the kind that oozed power and wealth. It was a Lamborghini Aventador, its sharp, aggressive lines reflecting the strength and confidence Adrian exuded. The engine roared to life as he drove off without looking back, leaving Hannah standing there.

Edward, now holding the car keys to a more understated, though still luxurious, black Audi, led Hannah to the vehicle. They drove in silence once again, the hum of the engine the only sound between them.