Chapter 5 - A Touch of WarmthA sudden autumn storm battered the city that night. Thunder shook the penthouse glass, and lightning illuminated the dark living room in violent flashes.
Elena, unable to sleep, sat on the living room sofa wrapped in a fleece blanket, watching the rain streak down the windows.
A shadow moved down the hallway. Ricardo walked in, shirtless, wearing gray lounge pants, carrying a glass of water. He paused when he saw her sitting in the dark.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked.
“The storm is loud,” she said softly.
Ricardo walked over and sat on the opposite end of the long sofa. The distance between them felt smaller tonight. In the dim light, without his tailored suits and sharp ties, he looked younger, exhausted, and remarkably human.
“You looked beautiful tonight,” he said quietly, looking out at the storm. “The green dress suited you.”
Elena turned her head to look at him. “You were very gentle with Julian. I thought you didn't care what people thought of this arrangement.”
Ricardo let out a low, humorless exhale. “I don’t care what they think. I care about what is right.” He turned to face her, his dark eyes catching the light from the city below. “My father forced this arrangement on us, Elena. He knew your family was drowning, and he used his financial leverage to force a marriage because he believed I needed a grounding influence. I hated him for it. I hated that he treated your life—and mine—like chess pieces.”
Elena’s heart ached as the truth settled into the room. “So you weren't angry at me?”
“I was angry at the situation,” Ricardo admitted, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. “And when I looked at you on our wedding day, I saw a woman who looked at me like I was a monster taking her freedom away. I hated that I was the reason for your tears.”
He reached out, his long fingers hovering near her hand before gently resting over her knuckles. His skin was warm, his touch steady.
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“I never wanted to be your warden, Elena,” he said softly.
Elena didn't pull her hand away. Instead, she turned her palm up, weaving her fingers through his.
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