Under the Cover of Darkness

Under The Cover

Chapter 1

The Marriage of a Beggar

Tony Bruce stood in the grand foyer of the Scott mansion, dwarfed by its towering pillars and intricate chandeliers. His ragged reflection stared back at him from the polished marble floor. Despite the fine suit he wore, Tony still felt like the homeless man who had wandered the streets only months ago.

He shifted uncomfortably as the maids passed by, their hushed whispers filling the air. He wasn't deaf to their comments.

"That's him?" one maid murmured, casting a sideways glance at him. "Eleana's husband? The beggar?"

"Unbelievable," another replied. "What was she thinking?"

Tony clenched his fists but remained silent. He had heard worse. Ever since his marriage to Eleana Scott, the most beautiful woman in the city, people couldn't stop questioning how a man like him-poor, penniless, and powerless-had won her hand. He hadn't won anything, though. Not really.

A deep, familiar voice echoed from the grand staircase. "Tony."

He turned to face Henry Scott, Eleana's father. The man's eyes were cold and calculating, his mouth twisted in a smirk that barely hid his contempt.

"Yes, sir," Tony replied, his voice low but steady.

"Sir?" Henry chuckled, descending the staircase with deliberate slowness. "You may be married to my daughter, but don't forget your place. You'll never be more than a beggar in my eyes. I don't know what spell you cast on Eleana, but I'm not fooled."

Tony's throat tightened, but he forced himself to meet Henry's gaze. He wanted to say something, anything, to defend himself. But what could he say? The truth was, even Tony didn't understand how Eleana had agreed to marry him. The whole situation felt like a cruel joke, one he was living day by day.

"Leave him alone, Father," a soft voice interrupted.

Eleana appeared, her elegance and beauty as breathtaking as ever. She wore a flowing silk gown, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Her expression, however, was distant, as if she were speaking out of obligation rather than love.

"Eleana," Henry said, his tone softening for his daughter. "I'm just reminding your husband of his responsibilities. He seems to forget them quite often."

Tony felt Eleana's eyes on him, but there was no warmth in her gaze. No love.

"Come, Tony," she said, her voice emotionless. "We have guests to attend to."

He followed her in silence, the weight of her coldness pressing down on him. They entered the grand ballroom, filled with the city's elite. Laughter and conversation flowed around them, but Tony felt like an outsider in his own marriage.