Chapitre 6: Chapter 6: A Tense Cohabitation

The next morning, I woke up with a strange sense of calm—a fragile, artificial calm masking the storm I knew was coming. I was now entangled in something far bigger than myself, and the weight of that reality was already pressing down on me.

At precisely 8 a.m., my phone buzzed on the bedside table. It was a message from Alessandro.

Alessandro: I'll pick you up at 10 a.m. Pack your things. You're moving in today.

I read the message several times, unable to believe its blunt tone. No request, no explanation—just a command.

I typed back, my irritation clear in every keystroke:

Me: Don't you think this is a bit rushed?

A reply came seconds later.

Alessandro: Not at all. You're pregnant. It's my responsibility to ensure you and the child are safe.

I let out a frustrated sigh, irritated by his unrelenting control. But I knew arguing was pointless. Alessandro Valenti wasn't the kind of man who lost debates.

At 10 a.m. sharp, the black sedan was parked outside my building. Alessandro stood waiting, immaculate as always in a dark suit, exuding the quiet authority that had already begun to suffocate me.

I came down with a small suitcase—just the essentials. I didn't have many possessions to begin with, but this move felt surreal, like I was stepping into a scene from some overdramatic film.

Without a word, Alessandro opened the trunk, placed my suitcase inside, and motioned for me to get into the car.

"You could've at least asked for my opinion," I said as I settled into the back seat.

He turned slightly toward me, one eyebrow arched. "If I had asked, you would've said no."

I crossed my arms. "And it never occurred to you to respect my decision?"

Resting his hands calmly on his knees, he replied, "Arianna, you know as well as I do that this arrangement is necessary. It's not just about you or me—it's about what's best for the child."

I sighed, turning to stare out the window. There was no winning this argument.

The car stopped in front of a massive villa surrounded by tall walls. The gates opened silently, revealing a perfectly manicured garden and a house that looked more like a modern palace.

I was momentarily speechless, unable to believe anyone could actually live in such a place.

Alessandro stepped out and opened my door. "Welcome home," he said, his tone neutral.

"Home," I repeated, the word dripping with sarcasm and frustration. "A bit excessive for just one person, don't you think?"

"We'll be two," he replied matter-of-factly, "and soon, three."

I rolled my eyes but said nothing further. Trying to argue with him felt like screaming into a void.

Inside, the house was even more breathtaking than I'd imagined. The grand entrance hall featured a spiraling marble staircase, modern art on the walls, and massive windows flooding the space with natural light.

A woman in a crisp uniform approached us with a warm smile.

"Welcome, Miss Costa. I'm Teresa, the housekeeper. If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to let me know."

"Thank you," I murmured, feeling entirely out of place in such a luxurious setting.

Alessandro turned to me, his expression softening slightly.

"Teresa will show you to our room."

I blinked, startled. "Our room?"

"Yes," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "We're married—or we will be soon. It's only natural we share the same space."

"Natural?" I scoffed, a nervous laugh escaping my lips. "Alessandro, nothing about this marriage is natural. I thought… I thought we'd have separate spaces."

He tilted his head slightly, his intense gaze pinning me in place. "This marriage may not be traditional, but it must appear authentic. We will live together, under the same roof, in the same room."

I flushed, equal parts angry and flustered. "This isn't about appearances. This is about control."

He sighed, as though expecting this response. "Arianna, this isn't about controlling you. It's about consistency and protection. What will people say if you're in a separate wing or a different room? In my world, every detail matters."

"Your world," I muttered bitterly. "Everything is about your world. What about me? This isn't my world, Alessandro. I'm not ready to…"

He interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. "You will be. I'm not asking you to accept this overnight. But believe me, Arianna, I'm not putting you in this room to manipulate you."

I raised a skeptical brow. "Then why?"

Leaning slightly closer, he closed the space between us, his voice softening in a way I hadn't expected. "Because it's my role now to protect you. This isn't just about appearances or safety—I want to be here. For you. For the child. And that starts with sharing this space."

I swallowed hard, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. Part of me wanted to believe him, to accept that he was being genuine. But the other part—the part clinging to my distrust—refused to give in so easily.

Teresa led me upstairs, her footsteps light against the polished wood floors.

"The master bedroom is here," she said, opening a set of double doors.

I froze in place as I took in the room. It was massive, far grander than anything I could have imagined. A four-poster bed sat at the center, dressed in ivory satin sheets and meticulously arranged cushions. The walls were tastefully decorated, and sunlight streamed through oversized windows, highlighting plush rugs and dark wooden furniture.

But it wasn't the luxury that unsettled me. It was the knowledge that I'd be sharing this space with Alessandro.

"You have everything you need here," Teresa continued. "An en suite bathroom, a walk-in closet, and a lovely view of the garden. If you need anything, just let me know."

I nodded numbly, still overwhelmed.

With a polite nod, Teresa excused herself, closing the doors softly behind her.

Alone in the cavernous room, I stood for a moment, staring at the bed. It wasn't just a piece of furniture—it was a symbol of the life I'd agreed to step into, the role I'd agreed to play.

With a sigh, I set my suitcase down by the closet and perched on the edge of the bed. The sunlight streaming through the windows felt almost mocking, as if highlighting how out of place I was.

A few hours later, as I unpacked, Alessandro returned. This time, he entered without knocking, closing the door behind him with an ease that felt far too natural.

"We need to talk," he said, his tone direct but not unkind.

I crossed my arms. "Let me guess. You're here to explain the house rules?"

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Exactly."

Leaning against one of the chairs by the window, he began. "Rule one: you don't leave this house without notifying me."

I rolled my eyes. "You mean without your permission, right?"

"Call it what you want," he replied evenly.

"And if I decide to go out anyway?" I challenged.

His gaze darkened slightly, turning more serious. "Then you're putting yourself and the child at unnecessary risk."

I glared at him, but his words struck a nerve.

"Rule two," he continued, "if you need anything, ask. I'll make sure you don't go without."

I laughed dryly. "You want me to feel indebted to you. Is that it?"

Shaking his head, he replied calmly, "This isn't about debt, Arianna. It's about responsibility."

I said nothing, my frustration warring with the uncomfortable truth in his words.

He stepped closer, his voice softening. "This room is ours, Arianna. I know it's a lot to accept, but this isn't negotiable."

I narrowed my eyes. "Why? You have dozens of rooms here. Why this one?"

He sighed, clearly anticipating my resistance. "Because we need to learn to live together. This arrangement isn't temporary, and I won't let us pretend otherwise—not even in private."

I scoffed. "You care about privacy now? You've been controlling my life from the start."

He held my gaze, unwavering. "This isn't control—it's transparency. If this is going to work, it starts here. Together."

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