Chapter 3.Scene at the workplace
1199 Words
The next morning came with a strange stillness.
Rose stood in front of her mirror, her fingers adjusting the cuffs of her blouse, movements slow, calculated. The sun streamed gently through the curtains, casting golden patterns across the floor. Alessandro hadn’t returned home again, he left without saying a word.
She should’ve been relieved.
And part of her was.
But another part—the quieter, more frightened one wondered what storm was building behind his absence.
She shook the thought away and focused on her reflection. Her eyes looked tired, but her spine was straight, her lips set in calm determination. She had work to do. Routine, structure—those were the only things she could control now.
Downstairs, she avoided the guards’ gazes and ordered another cab. She didn’t ask anyone for permission.
By the time she arrived at the office, the city was wide awake, humming with life. Her heels clicked against the tile floor as she entered the building. She greeted the front desk, made her way up to Mr. Grayson’s office, and slipped into her seat like she hadn’t just walked out of a mansion ruled by a man who saw her as his possession.
Her mind settled into work, letting the steady rhythm of productivity drown out everything else.
Hours passed.
Across the city, Alessandro returned home, jaw tight, movements stiff. His coat landed on the arm of the couch as he strode into the hallway, already expecting to see her. But the house was too quiet.
Again.
He summoned one of his men. “Where is she?” he asked coldly.
“She left for work, sir,” the man answered cautiously. “Left just like yesterday. Took a cab again.”
Alessandro’s fingers curled into a fist. “Work,” he repeated, as if the word personally offended him.
He didn’t hesitate.
The next thing anyone knew, his black SUV was weaving through traffic, heading straight for the tall building where Rose worked.
He didn’t call. Didn’t warn. Didn’t care.
When he stormed into the building, security didn’t stop him. His presence alone parted crowds. He was a man used to owning whatever space he walked into and today was no different.
He entered the office, brushing past the stunned receptionist like a phantom, then threw open the door to Mr. Grayson’s suite.
Grayson stood from behind his desk, stunned. “Sir—this is a place of business—”
Alessandro ignored him completely.
His eyes locked on Rose, who was seated behind her desk. Her hands froze on the keyboard as her heart leapt into her throat.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered, rising to her feet, voice low and desperate. “You can’t just barge in—”
But he was already moving.
In one swift motion, Alessandro crossed the room, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her close. Before she could fight, scream, or reason, he lifted her effortlessly, throwing her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing.
“Put me down!” she cried, kicking. “Alessandro, put me down now!”
Behind them, Grayson started forward, but Alessandro shot him a cold, deadly glare. “Don’t. Interfere.”
Grayson stopped, helpless and silent as Alessandro carried his assistant—his wife—right out the door.
Rose struggled, hitting his back with small fists, her voice shaking. “You’re insane! This is my job—my life—you don’t own me!”
Alessandro said without looking back. “You belong with me.”
The drive home was silent.
Utterly silent.
Rose sat in the backseat, her arms folded tightly across her chest, her face turned toward the window. She didn’t cry. She didn’t speak. She simply sat frozen and stiff like a statue.
Alessandro sat beside her, jaw clenched, one hand resting over his thigh. He didn’t touch her. Didn’t say a word. But his mind was racing, boiling with emotions he didn’t know how to name.
By the time the car pulled up to the mansion, the silence had grown unbearable.
Inside, she stepped out slowly, refusing to look at him. She walked ahead of him into the house, spine straight and face blank.
But the moment the door shut behind them, his voice broke the silence.
“I’d like to finish what I started,” he said.
She turned slowly, confusion clouding her expression.
His eyes burned with something dark, something primal. “That night, our wedding night—I was interrupted. But I think it’s time I take what’s mine.”
Her breath caught. “Don’t.”
“I’m your husband, Rose. It’s within my right to consummate our marriage.”
She backed up a step. He noticed it immediately.
“Why are you scared?” he asked, frowning. “I haven’t touched you. I haven’t hurt you.”
“You think that’s the problem?” she snapped, voice trembling.
His expression shifted. “Then what is it?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but words failed her.
“Tell me,” he demanded, softer this time.
Silence.
Then finally, her voice came—barely above a whisper.
“I haven’t done it before, I’m a virgin”
The words hung in the air like a spell.
Alessandro’s entire body froze.
He blinked once, twice. The weight of her confession slammed into him like a punch to the gut.
“You… haven’t what?”
Her eyes lowered, and her arms folded tightly across her chest again. “I’ve never… with anyone. Not even once.”
Alessandro stared at her as if seeing her for the first time.
The same woman who’d defied him, walked out of his house, stared him down without flinching was untouched. Innocent.
All at once, something inside him shifted.
His anger didn’t vanish, but it changed. Morphed into something else. Something quieter. He stepped back, running a hand down his face.
Her father had sold her off to him like she was property. He had assumed she was experienced—manipulative even. But now…
Now he saw the truth.
She was a girl who had been thrown into a brutal world.
Not a seductress. Not a schemer.
Just a woman trying to survive.
And he’d carried her out of her job like she was his prize.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice low now. No longer demanding—just stunned.
“I didn’t think it mattered to you,” she said quietly. “You married me because it was convenient. Business. Leverage.”
His hands dropped to his sides. “I didn’t know.”
She nodded, lips trembling. “Exactly.”
A long silence passed between them.
Then, Alessandro turned and walked away.
No more words. No threats. No demands.
Just silence.
And maybe… respect.
That night, Rose lay in bed wide awake, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Her body still trembled from the storm of the day. But something had changed.
For the first time since her forced marriage, Alessandro hadn’t pushed.
Maybe she was still a prisoner in a gilded cage.
But perhaps, just perhaps, he had seen the girl behind the title.
And that changed everything.
- Writer
