The Beginning

"Careful. You wouldn't want to break anything."

Victoria stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, her expression smug.

Elena straightened, hugging the book to her chest. "I was just looking around."

Victoria's eyes drifted over Elena's dress, a flicker of disdain crossing her face. "You certainly seem... comfortable here."

Elena's smile faltered. "It's my home now."

Victoria's laugh was light, airy. "Is it? Or are you just... visiting?"

Elena's chest tightened, her fingers digging into the book's cover. "Liam and I are married. This is my home too."

Victoria's eyes sparkled with amusement. "For now." She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But this place... it has a way of swallowing people like you."

Before Elena could respond, Victoria was gone, her laughter echoing through the hall.

Elena sank onto a nearby chair, her heart racing. She looked down at the book in her hands—a collection of poetry about love and loss. Her fingers trembled as she opened it, the words blurring before her eyes.

This was supposed to be her perfect beginning. Her happily ever after.

So why did she feel like an outsider in her own home?

And why did she feel like she was losing herself... piece by piece?

Elena closed the book, the echo of Victoria's words haunting her.

This place... it has a way of swallowing people like you.Days turned into weeks, and Elena settled into her new life as Mrs. Harrington. She decorated the rooms with fresh flowers, learned the routines of the house staff, and filled the halls with laughter and warmth. Every morning, she woke up in Liam's arms, his sleepy smile the first thing she saw.

It was perfect. Almost too perfect.

Liam's career demanded long hours, but he always made time for her. He would call her during the day just to say he missed her voice, send her flowers with notes that made her heart flutter, and take her out to dinners where he'd look at her like she was the only person in the room.

Yet, shadows lingered.

Eleanor's presence was constant, her cold eyes watching Elena's every move. Sometimes Elena would feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up, only to turn and find Eleanor silently observing from a doorway, her face expressionless.

"You're doing well, I suppose," Eleanor commented one afternoon as Elena arranged flowers in the sitting room. "But be careful not to overstep. Tradition is very important in this family."

Elena looked up, her hands pausing. "I don't want to change anything. I just want to make this place feel like home."

Eleanor's smile was thin, her gaze drifting to the flowers. "Home is earned, Elena. It's not something you can simply... arrange." She turned, her perfume lingering in the air as she walked away. "Especially not by someone who doesn't understand its worth."

The words stung, sinking deep. Elena fought the urge to cry, refusing to let Eleanor see her weakness. But when she told Liam later that evening, he just sighed, his fingers rubbing his temples.

"She'll come around," he assured her. "She's just... protective."

Elena wanted to believe him. She needed to believe him.

But Eleanor wasn't the only one who made her feel like an intruder.

Victoria continued her subtle jabs, always delivered with a smile that never reached her eyes. She would visit unannounced, casually reminding Elena of her own wealthy upbringing, dropping comments about exclusive social circles that Elena couldn't possibly understand.

"Oh, you wouldn't know about that," Victoria would say with a light laugh. "It's just one of those things that's... inherited."

The worst was when Victoria mentioned Liam's past relationships. She would describe beautiful, sophisticated women who were "perfect matches" for him, emphasizing how their families were old friends, how they were all part of the same world—a world Elena didn't belong to.

One afternoon, Victoria stopped by, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Did you know Liam almost married Isabella?" she asked, her voice casual, but her gaze piercing.

Elena's heart skipped. "No... he never mentioned her."

Victoria's smile widened. "Oh, they were inseparable. Everyone thought they were meant to be. Their families even discussed merging assets. But then..." She waved a hand dismissively. "Well, Isabella went abroad, and Liam got... distracted."

Elena's mouth went dry. "Distracted?"

Victoria leaned in, her voice a whisper. "With you, of course." Her fingers brushed Elena's arm, cold and light as a feather. "Isabella was devastated. They were perfect together. But then again... I suppose every man goes through a phase of wanting something... different."

The words echoed in Elena's mind long after Victoria left, planting seeds of doubt that grew with each passing day.

That evening, Elena tried to ask Liam about Isabella, her voice casual as they lay tangled together on the couch. "Do you ever think about her?" she asked, her heart pounding.

Liam's eyes flicked to hers, his expression unreadable. "No. Why would I?"

"I just... I heard you were close."

He sighed, his fingers tightening around hers. "It was a long time ago, Elena. It meant nothing."

His voice was firm, final. But he didn't meet her eyes when he said it.

Elena tried to push the doubts away, but they followed her like shadows. Every time she walked through the grand hallways, she felt the weight of the portraits watching her, judging her.

In the evenings, she wandered the mansion, exploring its vast rooms, its hidden corners. She discovered an old music room filled with antique instruments and dusty sheet music, a forgotten library filled with leather-bound books, and a small garden hidden behind tall hedges, its flowers wild and overgrown.

It was beautiful. But it was also lonely.

One night, as she wandered the halls, she heard voices drifting from Liam's study. The door was slightly ajar, and she paused, curiosity getting the better of her.

"I'm doing everything you asked," Liam's voice was tight, controlled. "But you need to give me more time."

Eleanor's voice was colder, sharper. "Time is a luxury we can't afford. You're already making too many compromises. You're letting her get too comfortable."

Elena's heart sank. Her. They were talking about her.

Liam's voice softened. "I love her."

There was a pause, then Eleanor's laugh—cold and bitter. "Love is a weakness, Liam. One that you can't afford. Not in this family."

Elena's chest tightened, tears stinging her eyes. She turned, fleeing before she could hear more.

In their bedroom, she sat on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling. Love is a weakness.

When Liam joined her later, his smile was warm, his eyes soft as he kissed her goodnight. But Elena couldn't forget his words.

You're letting her get too comfortable.

As she lay beside him, her body curled against his, the doubt grew, wrapping around her heart like a vine.

She loved him. She trusted him. But she couldn't ignore the shadows creeping in.Days passed, but Elena couldn't shake the feeling of unease. It lingered in the corners of her mind, surfacing when she least expected it—during quiet moments when Liam was at work and the house felt too big, too empty.

She tried to distract herself, pouring her energy into making their house a home. She redecorated the guest rooms, learned to cook Liam's favorite meals, and even tried her hand at gardening, determined to bring life to the neglected garden she had discovered.

But no matter how hard she tried, the shadows followed her.

It didn't help that Eleanor's words echoed in her mind. "Home is earned... especially not by someone who doesn't understand its worth."

Elena found herself tiptoeing around Eleanor, careful not to do anything that could be seen as overstepping. She kept her conversations polite, her actions measured, but it never seemed to be enough.

Eleanor's comments were always subtle, always calculated.

"You're certainly trying," Eleanor observed one afternoon as she watched Elena arranging flowers. "Though it's quite different from what Liam's used to. His previous companions had... a more refined touch."

Elena's fingers stilled, a vase slipping slightly in her grip. "I'm doing my best."

Eleanor's smile was thin. "I'm sure you are. But some things can't be learned. They're... inherited." Her gaze was pointed, a reminder that Elena didn't come from wealth, didn't belong in this world.

Elena swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing a smile. "I just want Liam to be happy."

Eleanor's eyes flicked to her, a shadow crossing her face. "Happiness is fleeting, Elena. And love... well, love is just an illusion."

The words haunted Elena long after Eleanor left, echoing in her mind as she moved through the house.

Love is just an illusion.

She didn't want to believe it. She wouldn't. But doubts were starting to creep in, fed by the whispers she heard in the hallways, the cold looks from Eleanor, and the lingering tension whenever Victoria visited.

It was during one of Victoria's visits that the doubts grew even deeper.

Victoria arrived unannounced, as usual, her perfume filling the room before she did. She swept in, her movements graceful and practiced, her lips curving into a smile that was more predator than friend.

"Elena, darling, still playing house, I see," Victoria cooed, her eyes flicking over the decorations Elena had put up. "How quaint."

Elena forced herself to smile. "I'm just trying to make it feel like home."

Victoria's eyes narrowed, her smile sharp. "Oh, I'm sure you are. But don't you think you're trying too hard? After all, you can't change who you are... where you came from."

Elena's cheeks burned. "I'm not trying to change anything. I just want to be good enough for Liam."

Victoria's laughter was cold, echoing off the walls. "Good enough? Oh, darling, that's the problem. You'll never be good enough. Not for him. Not for this family."

The words cut deep, hitting every insecurity Elena tried to hide. She gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white. "Liam loves me. That's all that matters."

Victoria's eyes gleamed with malice. "Does he? Or did he just settle for you because he couldn't have what he really wanted?"

Elena's heart dropped. "What... what do you mean?"

Victoria's smile widened. "Oh, come now. You must have heard about Isabella. They were perfect for each other. Same background, same status... same world. She was everything he needed. Everything you're not."

Elena's breath caught, her chest tightening. "He... he said it was in the past."

"Did he?" Victoria's voice was dripping with fake sympathy. "Funny. Because I saw him with her last week. They seemed... close."

The room spun, Elena's vision blurring. "No... you're lying."

Victoria's expression softened, her voice a whisper. "Am I? Or are you just refusing to see the truth?" She touched Elena's arm, her fingers cold. "Liam's world is different from yours. You'll never be part of it, no matter how hard you try."

With that, she turned and walked away, her laughter echoing down the hall.

Elena stood frozen, her mind reeling. She wanted to dismiss Victoria's words as lies, as spiteful manipulation. But the seeds of doubt were planted, their roots sinking deep.

That night, when Liam came home, she tried to act normal, forcing herself to smile and laugh as he recounted his day. But she was distracted, her mind replaying Victoria's words over and over.

When he kissed her, she wondered if he was thinking of Isabella. When he whispered I love you, she wondered if he meant it.

She lay awake that night, her body curled away from his, her heart aching. She felt foolish, childish even, for doubting him. But she couldn't stop the fear growing inside her.

Am I just his second choice?

The question haunted her, keeping her awake long after Liam fell asleep. She watched the shadows dance on the ceiling, feeling more alone than ever.

She wanted to confront him, to ask him about Isabella, about his family, about everything. But fear kept her silent. Fear of the answers, fear of losing him, fear of facing the truth.

So she stayed quiet, burying her doubts deep inside. She clung to the dream she had built, the life she had created with him, even as the foundation began to crack.

Elena stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down her blouse, her heart fluttering with anticipation. Today was supposed to be the start of something new—a career opportunity that could help her grow, a chance to prove herself.

She looked at the job offer letter on the dresser, the salary figure bold and enticing. It was everything she had dreamed of—financial independence, a sense of purpose beyond the walls of this house. Yet, as she stared at her reflection, doubt crept in.

Would pursuing this job mean she was neglecting her duties as Liam's wife? Would she be choosing herself over him?

Her phone buzzed, breaking her thoughts. A text from Liam: Can't wait to see you tonight, Mrs. Harrington. Love you.

A smile broke across her face, her heart warming at the thought of him. She pictured his smile, the way his eyes softened when he looked at her. She remembered his words on their wedding night—I love you, and that's all that matters.

But then, Eleanor's voice echoed in her mind: "Home is earned... especially not by someone who doesn't understand its worth."

Her chest tightened, the excitement she felt moments ago dimming. Would pursuing this job make her less of a wife? Less worthy of this home, of Liam's love?

She heard footsteps behind her and turned to find Eleanor standing in the doorway, her gaze cold and appraising.

"You're going out?" Eleanor's voice was deceptively polite, her eyes flicking over Elena's professional attire. "I thought you were settling into your role as Liam's wife."

Elena's heart skipped, her fingers tightening around the job offer. "I... I was considering a job opportunity. Just something to keep me busy."

Eleanor's lips curved into a thin smile. "Busy? Interesting. I always thought taking care of my son's home would be more than enough to keep someone occupied." She stepped closer, her eyes never leaving Elena's. "But I suppose not everyone is suited for that role."

Elena felt the sting, her shoulders tensing. "I just thought... maybe I could help contribute."

"Contribute?" Eleanor's laugh was sharp, echoing off the walls. "Liam is more than capable of supporting this household. He doesn't need his wife running around playing career woman. It's undignified... desperate, even."

Elena's cheeks flushed. "It's not about the money. I just... I wanted something for myself."

Eleanor's smile faded, her gaze hardening. "You're his wife now. Your place is here, supporting him, making this house a home. Or did you think marriage was just about wearing a ring and living in luxury?"

The accusation stung, each word piercing Elena's confidence. She looked down, her fingers trembling as she held the offer letter.

Eleanor's eyes flicked to the paper. "You want to be useful? Then learn to be the wife Liam deserves. A woman who stands by his side, who puts his needs above her own." Her voice was icy, final. "Not someone who chases selfish dreams."

With that, she turned and walked away, her heels clicking against the floor, the sound echoing long after she was gone.

Elena stood frozen, her heart pounding, her mind racing. The job offer felt heavy in her hands, the excitement she once felt now tainted with doubt and guilt.

She sank onto the bed, staring at the letter, her vision blurring. She thought of Liam, of his smile, of how hard he worked to provide for them. How could she be so selfish?

Eleanor was right. Her place was here, by his side. She was his wife now. This was her new role, her new purpose.

She took a deep breath, her decision solidifying. She folded the job offer neatly and placed it back into the envelope, her hands shaking. She would decline. She would stay home, she would make their house a sanctuary, and she would be the wife Liam deserved.

That evening, when Liam came home, she was waiting for him with his favorite meal, the table beautifully set, candles flickering softly. She wore a soft, welcoming smile, her doubts buried deep inside.

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead. "You're incredible, you know that?"

Her heart swelled, his words washing over her, soothing the ache inside. "I just want to make you happy."

"You do," he murmured, his lips brushing hers. "Every day."

They ate together, laughing and talking about his day. Elena listened intently, her focus entirely on him, on his needs, on his happiness.

But later that night, as Liam slept soundly beside her, Elena stared at the ceiling, her mind racing. She couldn't sleep, couldn't silence the nagging voice inside her.

Days turned into weeks, and Elena settled into her new role as a homemaker. She busied herself with tasks that once seemed trivial—organizing the pantry, redecorating the living room, perfecting new recipes. She woke early to prepare Liam's breakfast and stayed up late to tidy up after his long workdays.

She poured herself into this life, determined to be the wife he deserved. Yet, every time she passed the desk in their study, her eyes lingered on the drawer where she had hidden the job offer letter.

It felt like a distant memory, a different life she had almost chosen. She shook off the thought, reminding herself that she had made the right choice—for Liam, for their marriage.

One afternoon, she invited her mother over, eager to share the progress she had made on the house. She wanted her to see how happy she was, how perfectly she had embraced her new role.

As they sipped tea in the sunlit kitchen, her mother's gaze wandered, taking in the perfectly arranged flowers, the gleaming countertops. "You've done a lovely job, Elena. It's a beautiful home."

Elena's heart swelled with pride. "I just want everything to be perfect for Liam. He works so hard. The least I can do is make sure he has a warm, welcoming home."

Her mother's smile faltered. "And how are you doing? Are you still writing? Working on that book you always dreamed of?"

Elena's chest tightened. She hadn't touched her writing in months. There was no time between keeping the house spotless and supporting Liam's busy schedule. "I've been busy," she said lightly. "But I'm happy. That's all that matters."

Her mother's eyes softened. "You always wanted so much more. Don't lose yourself, darling."

"I'm not losing anything," Elena insisted, forcing a bright smile. "I'm exactly where I want to be."

Her mother looked unconvinced but dropped the subject. They spent the afternoon talking about family and old memories, and when she finally left, Elena felt a lingering unease.

Was she really happy?

That evening, she made Liam's favorite dinner, setting the table with their finest china. She was determined to prove—to herself, to her mother—that she was thriving in this role.

Liam came home late, his shoulders tense, his expression weary. He offered her a tired smile and kissed her cheek before collapsing into his chair. "You didn't have to do all this, Elena. I would've been fine with takeout."Her heart sank. She had spent hours perfecting every detail, wanting to make him feel special, to show her appreciation. "I just wanted to surprise you. I thought you'd like it."

He glanced at the table, his gaze barely lingering on the perfectly arranged plates or the centerpiece she had crafted herself. "It looks great. I'm just exhausted."

He ate quickly, his attention more on his phone than on her. When she tried to engage him in conversation, his responses were short, distracted.

"Everything okay at work?" she asked gently.

"Yeah, just busy," he replied, not looking up. "There's a lot on my plate right now. I'm trying to keep the investors happy. It's just... a lot of pressure."

Elena reached across the table, placing her hand on his. "I'm here for you. Whatever you need."

He smiled, his fingers tightening around hers. "I know. You're amazing." But his eyes were distant, his mind somewhere else.

After dinner, she cleaned up alone, listening to him take calls from the office. She heard him laugh—really laugh—for the first time that evening, and her chest ached when she realized he was talking to his assistant, praising her for her hard work.

Elena's hands stilled on the dishes. She had given up her own career, her own dreams, to be here for him. Yet, he seemed more impressed with someone who had kept her ambition.

A pang of jealousy twisted inside her, quickly followed by guilt. She had chosen this. She had decided to support him, to build their life together. Why did it hurt so much?

The next day, she visited Liam's family, hoping to feel more connected, more secure in her role as his wife. But the visit was far from comforting.

Eleanor greeted her with a practiced smile, her gaze sharp as she looked Elena up and down. "You look... comfortable," she noted, her eyes lingering on Elena's simple dress. "Liam likes his wife to be polished. Perhaps you should consider dressing up more."

Elena's cheeks burned. She had chosen the dress for its comfort while running errands, not realizing she would be judged for it. "I... I'll keep that in mind."

Victoria joined them, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Oh, Elena, I heard you turned down that job offer. Such a shame. I suppose staying at home suits you better."

Eleanor's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Of course. It's good you understand your place."

Elena's stomach churned, but she forced a smile. "Liam and I agreed this was best for us."

Eleanor's expression softened, her lips curving into a condescending smile. "You made the right choice. After all, a man like Liam needs a wife who can dedicate herself fully to him."

The words felt like chains, wrapping around Elena, tightening with each passing moment. She realized that no matter what she did, it would never be enough for them.

That evening, as she lay beside Liam, she stared at the ceiling, her heart heavy. She had given up so much—her career, her independence, her dreams. Yet, she felt more alone than ever.

She glanced at Liam, his face relaxed in sleep, unaware of the turmoil inside her. She loved him. She had made these sacrifices for him.

The next day, she watched Liam leave for work, his confidence evident in every step. He was thriving, climbing the corporate ladder, surrounded by influential people who praised his ambition and drive.

Elena felt pride for him, truly she did. But the quiet that followed his departure echoed through the house, each tick of the clock reminding her of the dreams she had set aside.

One afternoon, she sat at the desk in their study, her fingers tracing the edges of the drawer where her job offer letter was hidden. She hadn't looked at it since the day she turned it down, convinced that her role as Liam's wife was more important than any career.

She almost opened the drawer, almost unfolded the letter to read the details again, to remind herself of who she was before she became Mrs. Harrington. But before she could, her phone buzzed.

It was a message from Liam: Having dinner with a client tonight. Don't wait up. Love you.

Elena's heart sank. It was the third night this week. She typed a quick reply, forcing cheerfulness into her words: Okay, have a great dinner! Love you too.

Her fingers hovered over the screen before she set the phone down. She knew this was part of his job, part of supporting his career. She reminded herself of her choice, her sacrifice.

But the ache in her chest didn't ease.

To distract herself, she decided to visit Eleanor. Maybe connecting with his family would help her feel more involved, more... included.When she arrived, Eleanor welcomed her with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Elena, how lovely to see you. I wasn't expecting company."

Elena tried to ignore the coldness in her voice. "I just thought it would be nice to spend some time together."

Eleanor's gaze flickered to the clock. "Of course. But you should have called first. I have other engagements today."

Elena's shoulders drooped. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude."

"Nonsense," Eleanor said, her voice firm. "You're family now. But spontaneity isn't always appropriate. You'll learn."

Elena's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'll remember that."

Eleanor's lips curved into a practiced smile. "Good. Now, tell me, how is everything at home? Have you considered my suggestion about redecorating the living room? It's quite outdated, you know. Liam deserves a more sophisticated space."

Elena's chest tightened. She had spent days rearranging the room, adding personal touches to make it feel like home. "I... thought it was fine as it was."

Eleanor's eyes narrowed. "Darling, a man like Liam is destined for greatness. He needs a wife who understands his status. Presentation is everything."Eleanor's expression softened, her tone almost gentle. "You're trying, I see that. But you still have much to learn."

The words stung, but Elena swallowed her pride. She wanted to be the wife Liam needed, the daughter-in-law who fit seamlessly into his world. "Thank you for the advice. I appreciate it."

Eleanor's smile widened. "Good girl. You'll get there... eventually."

Elena forced a nod, her voice small. "I'll look into it."