Alaina stared at the property deed, the official paper feeling impossibly heavy. It was like a dream. She was being forced to adapt to a world built on wealth and power, where everything came so easily, yet carried an immense, unspoken weight.
She stood up, her voice tight.
"Addie, this is too much. I can't accept it."
Addie waved a dismissive hand. "It's nothing, just part of my allowance. If you don't take it, you're not my friend!" She was half-pouting, half-joking.
Alaina's gaze shifted to Alaric, a silent appeal for him to intervene. It was his adopted daughter's money, after all.
He placed his coffee cup down, dabbing his lips with a linen napkin. His voice was level.
"It's her money. She can do what she wants with it. You're part of the Wynn family now. Accepting a gift shouldn't be a burden."
His words were a wall. They blocked every path of refusal. She had no choice but to accept.
Addie, delighted, moved closer. Her eyes, however, suddenly fixed on Alaina's neck.
"Whoa, Alaina, what's that on your neck?"
Alaina's hand flew up instinctively, covering the faint red mark left from Alaric’s grip the night before.
A slow, sly grin spread across Addie's face. "Looks like my dad isn't so 'cold-blooded' after all," she said, drawing out the words. "You two had a pretty wild night, huh? Did he break the bed?"
Heat flooded Alaina's face. She was mortified, angry, and completely at a loss for words, her independent, strong facade crumbling under the sheer embarrassment.
Alaric's expression remained perfectly stoic, but the tips of his ears turned a faint shade of red. He was a man of action, completely unequipped to handle his adopted daughter's blatant teasing about his sex life. He shot a warning look at Addie. "Finish your breakfast and get to school."
Addie stuck her tongue out but had achieved her goal. She turned back to Alaina, noticing how stiff and uncomfortable the new bride looked. A new idea sparked in her bright blue eyes.
If Alaric actually went out of his way to marry this woman, he obviously liked her, Addie reasoned inwardly. I might as well play the good guy and push them together. If I make him happy, maybe he'll double my allowance!
Though Alaina couldn't hear her thoughts, Addie's overly eager, expectant grin made her intentions painfully obvious.
"Since you accepted my gift," Addie said, leaning in, "maybe you should get a gift for my dad? You know... to celebrate your new marriage?"
She was clearly trying to play matchmaker.
"That won't be necessary," Alaina said immediately, her tone stiff, trying to regain her composure. She deliberately emphasized the names. "Mr. Wynn and I have a contract. It's important to maintain a professional relationship."
At her words, Alaric's gaze seemed to grow even colder, masking a flicker of hidden disappointment. He said nothing.
Addie sighed, sensing she'd pushed too far. She finished her toast, grabbed her backpack, and gave Alaina a parting shot. "The gallery's yours, so make it great! Call me if you need anything!"
Once Addie was gone, the dining room fell silent again, the air thick with awkward distance.
To break the silence, and to escape, Alaina stood up. "Mr. Wynn, I'd like to go see the gallery. Since it's my asset now."
He looked at her for a long moment, then nodded. "Do you need a driver?"
"No, I'll drive myself." She needed a pocket of space that was entirely her own.
From the set of keys the assistant had given her, she chose the one for the most understated vehicle, an Audi SUV.
The drive to SoHo was a welcome buffer. The dense New York traffic gave her time to think, to let her racing heart slow down.
She parked across the street from the gallery. It was a beautiful red-brick building, worn by time but still proud. Neglect had left it looking defeated.
Alaina got out of the car and stood before it. The key felt solid in her hand as she unlocked the heavy front door.
Sunlight streamed through the dusty windows, creating golden shafts in the air. The space was vast but empty, with peeling paint and scored wooden floors.
She walked across the creaking floorboards, her mind already alive with plans, with layouts and light studies. This place was her sanctuary. A refuge from the gilded cage of Alaric Wynn's penthouse.
She took a deep breath, the scent of dust and old wood filling her lungs. It smelled like a beginning.
She pulled out her phone, ready to call a small, reliable construction team she'd worked with before. She would get this place running. It was the only thing in this whole damn deal that felt real, that felt like hers.
As she scrolled through her contacts, a voice she never wanted to hear again sliced through the quiet.
"Alaina? Fancy seeing you here."
The voice was smooth, laced with false surprise.
