The sound of the pen hitting the table echoed louder than it should have.
Luna had signed.
There was no going back now.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Ethan picked up the contract, his eyes scanning her signature as if confirming something far more important than just ink on paper.
"Good," he said calmly. "You learn fast."
Luna crossed her arms. "I didn't come here to be tested."
"No," Ethan replied, looking at her again, "you came here because you had no choice."
The words hit harder than she expected.
But she didn't react.
Instead, she lifted her chin slightly. "Then let's be clear. I agreed to a deal, not control."
A faint smirk appeared on Ethan's face.
"Same thing."
An hour later, Luna stood in front of a massive mansion.
No—this wasn't a house.
It was a world she didn't belong to.
"This is where you'll be staying," Ethan said, stepping out of the car.
Luna stared at the tall gates, the security, the silence.
"It looks more like a prison," she muttered.
Ethan heard her.
"Good," he said. "Then you'll understand the rules better."
Inside, everything was perfect.
Too perfect.
White marble floors. Tall ceilings. Cold lighting.
Not a single thing out of place.
Luna felt… out of place.
A woman approached them. "Welcome back, sir."
Ethan nodded. "Prepare the east wing."
"Yes, sir."
Luna frowned. "East wing?"
"You'll stay there."
"And you?"
"The west wing."
She blinked. "We're married, remember?"
Ethan looked at her, completely unaffected.
"This is a contract, not a romance."
Right.
Of course.
She almost laughed at herself for expecting anything else.
They stopped in a quiet hallway.
Ethan turned to face her fully now.
"Let's go over the rules."
Luna sighed softly. "Of course there are rules."
"There are always rules."
He stepped closer, his presence instantly overwhelming.
"Rule one," he said, his voice calm but firm, "in public, you are my wife. You act like it. No mistakes."
"Fine."
"Rule two: you don't interfere in my work."
"I don't care about your work."
"Good."
"Rule three," he continued, "no unnecessary emotional involvement."
That one made her pause.
Luna looked at him carefully.
"Don't worry," she said. "I'm not planning to fall in love with you."
For the first time—
Ethan's expression changed slightly.
Not anger.
Not amusement.
Something else.
Something unreadable.
"And the last rule," he said quietly.
Luna felt something shift in the air.
"You don't leave this house without my permission."
Her eyes narrowed immediately.
"Excuse me?"
"This marriage needs to look real," Ethan said. "For that, you stay here."
"That wasn't part of the deal."
"It is now."
Luna took a step closer, her voice sharper.
"You don't get to change the terms after I signed."
Ethan didn't move.
Didn't react.
"If you walk out," he said calmly, "the contract ends."
She froze.
"And so does the financial support."
Silence.
Heavy. Suffocating silence.
He had trapped her.
Perfectly.
Luna let out a slow breath, trying to control the anger rising inside her.
"You really planned this, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"At least you're honest."
"I don't lie," Ethan replied. "I just don't explain."
A maid opened a door beside them.
"Your room, ma'am."
Luna looked inside.
It was beautiful.
Soft lights. A large bed. A balcony view.
Everything she could have ever dreamed of.
But it didn't feel like freedom.
It felt like a golden cage.
Before leaving, Ethan stopped at the door.
"One year," he said without looking back.
"That's all this is."
Luna watched him walk away.
Cold. Distant. Untouchable.
She clenched her fists slightly.
"One year…" she whispered.
"I can survive that."
But deep down—
Something told her this wasn't going to be that simple.
Because in this house…
She wasn't just a wife.
She was locked.