The rain drummed heavily against the windows, loud enough to drown out Ariana's thoughts. Outside, lightning fractured the sky, followed by the low, rolling growl of thunder. The storm had arrived in full force.
But inside the estate, an even stronger storm brewed—one that had been gathering for weeks.
Ariana stood in the middle of the grand hallway, her bare feet cold against the marble floor. Her fingers clenched tightly around the small envelope she had found tucked beneath the library door. It wasn't addressed, but the familiar handwriting across the back made her heart skip.
From Julia.
The letter her sister had written.
The one Ariana was never meant to see.
She should have thrown it away. Pretended it didn't exist. But her hands had opened it before her brain had even registered what she was doing. And now, after reading every line, her world was tilted off its axis.
"You're lucky, Ari. Even if you married him for me, at least you'll get to live the life I always wanted. I know Nathaniel is cold and proud, but you can melt that. You always could… If it were me, I would've fallen for him. But I can't take that from you, not now."
It stung—because it sounded like a goodbye.
Ariana blinked away the tears that blurred her vision. Her throat tightened as the emotions she'd tried to bury resurfaced all at once. Julia had known exactly what Ariana would face. And yet, she'd pushed her toward it anyway.
She didn't know whether to be angry… or grateful.
"Still awake?"
A deep voice cut through the silence. She flinched and turned quickly, the letter still clutched in her hand.
Nathaniel stood at the end of the hall, his black shirt partially unbuttoned, revealing a hint of his toned chest. His hair was slightly damp, as though he had just come in from the storm. His eyes landed on the envelope first, then traveled up to her face.
"You're trembling," he said as he walked toward her.
She was, but it wasn't from the cold.
"What are you doing up?" she asked, her voice quieter than intended.
"I could ask you the same," he replied, stopping just a few feet from her. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Ariana hesitated. "I found a letter. From Julia."
Something flickered in his eyes. "And?"
"She knew about everything. About me marrying you. About how cold you were. She knew it would hurt. But she let me do it anyway."
Nathaniel's jaw tensed, but he didn't say anything. His silence was worse than any cruel word.
"She said…" Ariana swallowed. "She said if it were her, she might've fallen for you."
The words hung between them, raw and dangerous.
A moment passed. Then another. And just when she thought he'd turn away, Nathaniel stepped forward, closing the distance between them until there was barely space to breathe.
"Do you wish it were her?" he asked, his voice low and sharp.
Ariana blinked. "What?"
"Do you wish Julia had married me instead of you?"
Her heart slammed against her ribs. "No—of course not. That's not what I meant."
"Then what do you mean?"
"That maybe you never even wanted me in the first place. That you still look at me like I'm wearing her shadow."
His gaze darkened. "You think I don't see you?"
Ariana looked up at him, her voice trembling. "I don't know what you see."
Thunder cracked above them. The lights flickered briefly before returning to their warm glow. It was the only warmth between them.
"I see a woman who's been thrown into a war she didn't ask for," Nathaniel said slowly, "and who still stands tall even when everyone expects her to fall."
Ariana stared, her breath catching in her throat.
"I see someone who fights," he continued, "who bites her tongue when my mother humiliates her, who doesn't run when this house suffocates her. You think I don't notice? I notice everything about you, Ariana."
Her heart ached at his words. Not because they were harsh—but because they were finally soft.
"But you never say it," she whispered.
"Because I'm afraid I won't be able to stop once I do."
Ariana felt her legs weaken slightly. She gripped the envelope tighter to anchor herself.
Nathaniel raised a hand, hesitating for a second before brushing a strand of hair away from her cheek. His touch was light, but it burned.
"Why are you still here?" he asked suddenly. "You could have walked out a dozen times. Why stay?"
Ariana met his gaze. "Because I promised Julia. Because I made a vow. And… because something in me still believes you're not as heartless as you pretend to be."
Silence stretched between them.
Then, softly, Nathaniel said, "I'm not."
He stepped back just enough to breathe, running a hand through his damp hair. "This marriage… it was never meant to be fair to you. But I never thought I'd start—"
He stopped.
She waited.
"You'd start what?"
Nathaniel looked away. "Start… wanting to protect you."
Her pulse skipped.
"Then do it," she said quietly.
He turned his head sharply. "What?"
"If you want to protect me… don't shut me out anymore."
There was vulnerability in her voice. The kind he wasn't used to hearing from her. It caught him off guard.
For the first time, she was asking—not fighting, not demanding—but simply asking for him to meet her halfway.
He nodded once. "Come with me."
"To where?"
"My room."
Ariana's eyes widened. "What—"
"Not for that," he added quickly, voice low and tired. "Just… stay. For tonight. I don't want you to be alone during the storm."
Her breath hitched. "Okay."
They walked in silence to his room. She had never entered it before. The space was large, minimalist, everything in shades of gray and navy. Cold, like him.
But that night, it didn't feel cold at all.
Nathaniel offered her a seat near the fireplace, then moved to grab a blanket from the closet. She wrapped it around herself as he stoked the fire. Moments later, the warmth seeped into her bones.
"I used to love storms as a kid," he said out of nowhere. "It was the only time my parents would stay in the same room."
Ariana turned to him. "What happened to them?"
He hesitated. "They divorced when I was twelve. Father remarried within a year. Mother never did."
She sensed the weight behind his words and offered no comment—just her quiet presence.
Nathaniel sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed. For once, he didn't pull away.
"I never believed in marriage after that," he said. "Still don't, sometimes."
"But you married me."
"I didn't have a choice."
She looked down. "And now?"
"I don't know anymore."
Ariana exhaled slowly. "You said once that marriage is just a contract. But sometimes… contracts become something more."
He looked at her. Really looked at her.
"You're dangerous when you talk like that," he murmured.
She smiled faintly. "Maybe I am."
Outside, the storm began to ease. The thunder softened into distant rumbles, and the rain slowed to a drizzle.
Inside, the space between them shifted. Something fragile had been laid bare—and neither of them tried to bury it again.
Ariana leaned her head against his shoulder.
Nathaniel didn't move.
For the first time since their wedding, the silence between them didn't feel like a wall—it felt like an invitation.
And slowly, almost imperceptibly, the cold-hearted man who had once been her enemy became the only warmth she needed.