Entangled Hearts in Ravenshire

Chapter 1

After twilight descended, Ravenshire finally slipped into night.

Yet the city's bustle refused to fade; the streets were alive with the sounds of chatter and honking horns. It wasn't until Eleanor Grayson stepped inside the Blackthorn Guild that the cacophony began to quiet, the ruckus of the outside world receding into the background.

The flickering streetlights outside offered a sense of calm, hinting at the solitude she sought. However, as she entered the private elevator heading to the top floor of Blackthorn Hall, an inexplicable wave of anxiety washed over her.

This wasn’t her first visit to Blackthorn Hall; she’d been to the Guild and even to William Night’s office more times than she could count. Yet, this was the first time she would step through those doors as his fiancée. She was bringing dinner to him — her childhood friend, William, the heir to the illustrious Blackthorne House and the current acting president, who had carved a prestigious path in the corporate world.

Eleanor carefully cradled the food box like a treasure chest, pride swelling in her heart. Inside were three dishes and a soup, all hand-picked and lovingly prepared just for him. William had a sensitive stomach and rarely ate outside meals; Henry Night, his father, ensured he dined at home every night, except on rare evenings when work consumed him, leaving Eleanor or family staff to deliver his dinner.

The soft ding of the elevator signaled her arrival at the top floor. She took a deep breath as the doors slid open, steeling herself as she walked towards the familiar office door. As she approached, the bustling atmosphere of the office was eerily absent. Most employees had long since left, creating a quiet corridor that made the ticking clock echo in her ears.

Heart racing, she thought of William just a few steps away. She quickened her pace, ready to knock on his door. But as her hand lifted, she froze. The door wasn’t fully closed. A strange sound floated out — was that… a woman’s voice?

“Ah… don’t… William… be gentle… please…”

Eleanor's heart dropped at the sound, a jarring contrast to the anticipation she had just felt. She pushed the door open cautiously, holding her breath. The office was empty aside from the towering stacks of papers and documents strewn about.

“Did I mishear?” she wondered, tension creeping in.

Just then, a sultry voice drifted from the lounge area of the office, sending chills down her spine. “You’re so irresistible, William. Every time I see you, I lose control. After all this time… darling, I love you.”

William’s voice followed, unmistakable and intimate. “You’re the only one for me. Just remember… soon enough, you’ll be mine completely.”

Her mind raced, twisting with disbelief and betrayal. Could William really be…? No, he couldn’t. They were getting married in just three days. He wouldn’t dare betray her like this.

Yet, it felt as if the ground beneath her was crumbling away. She had spent over a decade with William, their friendship blossoming into something deeper. Her family had revered her as the chosen daughter-in-law of the Blackthorn dynasty. Her heart ached with disbelief.

She should have burst in, should have yelled and cried. The image of them together felt larger than life. But instead, her heart simply cracked. Tears blurred her vision as she let the food box slip from her fingers, silently crashing to the carpet.

In that moment, it didn’t matter what she thought she knew about love or loyalty. All she grasped was the weight of loss, sprawled within the unseen space of betrayal, her world irretrievably altered.

Chapter 2

The moment Eleanor Grayson pushed open the door to the lounge, her gaze was locked onto the two entangled figures before her. A cold laugh escaped her lips. “William Night, don’t even pretend you want to marry me. I’m not exactly itching to tie the knot with you. Who do you think you are? Just because you’re the prince of Blackthorne House doesn’t make you special. At the end of the day, you’re just a heartless jerk, totally unworthy of me.”

With her taunts, the sultry murmurs that had echoed around the room dwindled to awkward silence, replaced by the frantic fumbling of two people caught in their indiscretions.

But Eleanor wasn’t going to let them off the hook that easily. She whipped out her phone, snapping pictures of them with reckless abandon as they scrambled to cover themselves and get dressed, hurling curses in her direction.

“What are you doing, Eleanor Grayson?” William demanded, scrambling to pull on his pants.

“Give me the phone, Eleanor. Whatever you want, I’ll get it for you,” he stammered, a sense of panic creeping into his voice.

“I don’t want anything from you. I just want what’s rightfully mine.” Eleanor fought back tears, her heart aching. Thirteen years had passed, and she struggled to convince herself that she had never loved this man.

But what did it matter now?

A cheating man? No way would she allow herself to fall for him again.

“I will never marry you. Stop hoping for something that will never happen. Eleanor Grayson, if you play nice, I can let you stay at Blackthorne House and live the life of luxury you deserve. But if you pull stunts like this, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

His usually gentle eyes flashed dangerously, and Eleanor felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach.

Despair washed over her, and she managed a bitter chuckle. “William Night, you’ve never loved me, have you? The only reason you didn’t oppose our marriage is that you haven’t truly secured a position at Ironwood Consortium yet, am I right?”

“Yes,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Coward. Vile. Selfish. You’re pathetic.” As her anger boiled over, she raised her hand and delivered a stinging slap to his face.

Yet still, the tears wouldn’t fall.

She stared at William, the man she once thought was everything. “William Night, it’s been thirteen years. Thirteen! If I was just a pawn to you, why didn’t you say so sooner? Is it fun to toy with a woman like this, to feel accomplished by using her?”

“Eleanor, please… just take a breath.”

“How can I breathe? If I’d known you were just using me as a stepping stone, I would’ve walked away ages ago! But you kept lying to me. We’re getting married in three days! How the hell am I supposed to deal with that? How do I face the judgment of everyone around me?”

“Eleanor, you’re destroying me, aren’t you? Fine! Then let’s both suffer. I’m all alone anyway, without a care in the world. But you, if those photos get to my grandfather, I can’t wait to see how he handles you.”

Eleanor grasped William’s shirt, unleashing a strength he’d never seen before. His expression hardened, and he softened his tone. “Eleanor, please, just calm down. Let’s talk this through.”

“Hey, Eleanor Grayson, you really don’t get it, do you? William said he doesn’t want you. Why are you still clinging to him?” Alice Greenwood, clad in nothing but a loose shirt, sauntered into the scene with a smug smile.

Striding toward Eleanor, she crossed her arms, delighting in Eleanor's pain.

Eleanor, not one to usually lose her cool, slapped Alice so hard it echoed in the room. “Shut up. You have no right to lecture me, you shameless woman.”

“Alice didn’t do anything wrong!” Alice squeaked, covering her face, looking at William with faux distress. “William, she hit me! I-I’m in pain!”

“You’ve crossed a line, Eleanor. Alice is pregnant!” William finally spoke out against her, a warning in his tone.

“She’s pregnant, and she’s still doing things like this? Are you serious, William?” Eleanor retorted, rolling her eyes. She turned to leave.

But William wouldn’t let her go; he was still after those incriminating photos.

He grabbed her arm, his demeanor shifting to icy seriousness. “Eleanor Grayson, one more time: give me the phone. Don’t push me to take drastic measures.”

“Do your worst. I’m not afraid. William Night, you think just because you’ve messed with me, I won’t fight back? Think again.”

“You’re only digging your own grave.”

“Let’s find out.”

“Eleanor Grayson, you asked for this, so don’t blame me…” The ferocity in William’s eyes flared to life as he reached for her neck.

Chapter 3

“Let her go.” A voice as cold as ice echoed through the room.

William Night froze like a deer in headlights. This couldn’t be happening—he knew that voice all too well.

At the same time, Alice Greenwood, who had been happily flirting, was startled into silence. Her soft body stiffened, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Edward, is that really you?”

Edward Night. Damn it, it was his girlfriend's boyfriend—and William's uncle.

Eleanor Grayson sat in turmoil, caught between anger and heartbreak. That thunderous command felt like a physical blow, rattling her to the core.

She turned her head towards the sound and saw, to her surprise, a man leaning heavily on a cane, standing in William's office.

It was Edward Night, the family’s infamous elder, ten years William's senior. She recognized him from her years in the family.

Despite the generational divide, she should have addressed him as Uncle Edward.

Once a figure of fear in Ravenshire, Edward now bore the scars of whatever had cost him a leg, reduced to the man before her.

Beside him stood a young man who provided support, steadying Edward’s stance.

Edward was strikingly handsome; even more so than William, with features that were sharp and refined. His short hair framed a strong jaw, and the intensity of his dark eyes held a flicker of fury as he surveyed the chaotic scene.

“Uncle… you, uh, what are you doing here?” William stammered, his tongue twisted in knots from fear and embarrassment.

He stood awkwardly, caught in a snare of shame and guilt, clearly terrified of his uncle’s presence.

Eleanor knew all too well that William harbored a deep-seated fear of Edward. The fact that his uncle had discovered him in bed with Eleanor left him too ashamed to meet Edward's gaze.

Edward’s icy glare swept over William before landing on Alice, dressed inappropriately for their surroundings. He then allowed his eyes to roam across the room, taking in the undeniable implications of the scene. Finally, his gaze settled on Eleanor, still in William's grasp.

“You,” he directed coolly, “come with me.”

Eleanor blinked in disbelief. “Why?”

“Do you really want to stay here and watch these two disgrace themselves?” Edward replied bluntly.

William and Alice both simmered with resentment, yet neither dared to speak.

Eleanor found herself momentarily speechless by Edward's straightforwardness.

“Go, Thomas, take Miss Eleanor away,” Edward instructed his assistant.

“Yes, sir,” Thomas nodded before walking toward Eleanor, prying William’s hand from her neck and guiding her away.

“I can manage on my own,” Eleanor said, sadly pushing away from Thomas before turning her back on William, moving quietly out of the office.

As Thomas helped Edward follow behind, the once-bustling room fell silent, leaving only William and Alice, exchanging dumbfounded glances.

Outside, Eleanor felt as if her very spirit had been drained. Leaning against the wall for support, she shuffled toward the elevator with vacant eyes.

Her mind was on the brink of collapse, having held it together for too long.

Thirteen years.

Thirteen years of deluding herself had led to this moment, a cruel joke—a cosmic punchline that left her reeling.

The elevator chimed and doors slid open. Eleanor entered like a somnambulist, her body sagging against the cold metal wall, staring blankly ahead.

Just behind her, Thomas ushered Edward into the elevator, pressing the button to close the doors.

Edward wore an impassive expression, inadvertently glancing at Eleanor before quickly shifting his gaze elsewhere.

Moments later, the elevator came to a stop on the first floor, doors opening slowly.

Eleanor stepped out, weighed down by invisible chains, wandering aimlessly as she exited the building.

Thomas assisted Edward out, guiding him towards the lavish Bentley parked out front.

Once Edward was settled in the backseat, Thomas wasted no time starting the engine, positioning the car right in Eleanor’s path as she emerged from the family estate.

“Get in,” Edward said, his tone matching the chill of his demeanor as Thomas pushed the door open for her.

“No thanks. I don’t want anything to do with your family anymore…” Eleanor tried to slip past, but Edward's hand shot out, gripping her wrist firmly.

She struggled to break free but found her strength lacking against his grasp.

“Miss Eleanor, it’s late, and you’re in Ravenshire all alone. Where do you expect to go?” Thomas interjected with genuine concern.

“I’ll be fine. I won’t starve out here,” she snapped back.

“Eleanor Grayson, is that really all you’ve got? Just crawling away like a wounded rabbit while the world laughs at you? You’ve let William hurt you, and you don’t want revenge?” Edward’s words were sharp, piercing through her defenses.

“I…”

“If you think you can accept the scorn of others and just walk away, be my guest.” Edward let go of her wrist, relinquishing control.

But Eleanor found herself frozen in place, the weight of choice heavy in the air.

With a faint shake of her head and a glance back at the imposing family estate, painful memories of William flooded her consciousness like a storm.

But instead of walking away, she looked at Edward, silently stepping into the car, taking the seat beside him.

Thomas closed the door and started the drive to a different part of town—Sunnybrook Harbor.

“What are we doing here?” Eleanor asked, her voice barely escaping her lips.

“Getting married. Partnering up. Building a life,” Edward replied matter-of-factly.

“What?” Eleanor stopped dead in her tracks, disbelief etched across her features.

“Eleanor Grayson, is this all the courage you've got? In three days, you’re set to marry William. Have you thought about how you’ll handle that?”

“I…” Eleanor hesitated.

“William’s your fiancé, Alice is with me. If they can betray their commitments, why can’t we do the same? Don’t you want to see the look on William’s face when he sees you standing next to me?”

Edward moved deeper into the apartment, leaving Eleanor at the threshold still processing his proposition.

What would that look be? Elation, perhaps? Freedom? But beneath that was a bitter sadness; William and Alice could stoop so low against the backdrop of their family's legacy.

“Eleanor Grayson, your family is well-respected in Ravenshire. Your engagement is already public knowledge. Whether you accept it or not, you’ll become a laughingstock. The only way to spare yourself that humiliation is to align with me. After all, in this town, I’m the one who can make William acknowledge my superiority beyond just physical shortcomings,” Edward’s voice echoed around the room, still absent from sight.

Eleanor felt her heart race at his words, her embarrassment simmering just beneath the surface.

“Eleanor, rest assured, I’m no threat. All I can offer you is this: I can’t betray someone I can’t have. I just refuse to allow them to have the last laugh,” Edward concluded, reappearing with a fierce look in his eyes.

“Look, I’m offering you a deal. You don’t have to say yes, but remember—there are plenty of women out there who would leap at the chance to cling to my name.”

Edward hobbled back, glancing back at Thomas, whom he instructed to give Eleanor some cash, “Just enough to keep her warm tonight, at least.”

“Sure thing, sir.” Thomas nodded, reaching into his pockets.

But Eleanor spoke up suddenly, “Wait. Uncle, I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.”

A wave of conviction washed over her; challenging William knowing he’d see her with Edward felt like sweet revenge. Plus, without any family to lean on, it was time to carve out a new path.

Chapter 4

Eleanor Grayson didn’t know what had gotten into her. Not only had she agreed to Edward Night’s insane proposal, but she had also ended up at the courthouse with him, accepting a bright red book that symbolized their marriage.

Standing there with the marriage certificate clutched in her hands, she stared blankly. Edward, ever the pragmatist, cocked an eyebrow and asked, “Regretting it yet?”

“I…”

Regret? Absolutely.

This wasn’t a game; she had made this life-altering decision on a whim.

“Regret won’t change anything, Eleanor. I didn’t twist your arm to do this. You said yes. Now we’re in it, and there’s no backing out,” Edward replied coldly. Turning to his assistant, Thomas, he commanded, “Go to the supermarket.”

“Yes, sir,” Thomas acknowledged.

“What do I need to go to the supermarket for? I’m exhausted and just want to go home,” Eleanor protested wearily.

“Rest later. First, you’re accompanying me to shop. Remember, Eleanor, you’re my wife now, and that means you have responsibilities,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Responsibilities?” she scoffed, but a glance at his serious expression had her reluctantly climbing into the car.

Once inside, she sat next to Edward like a marionette with its strings cut, peering out the window at the world that sped by.

The city looked the same as ever.

Yet to Eleanor, everything felt foreign and unsettling.

In the tense silence, she could feel Edward’s fleeting glances, each one like a weight pressing into her skin.

Just then, a melancholy tune played on the radio, pulling her distracted gaze back to reality.

She looked down at her phone as it chimed insistently. Without thinking, she swiped to ignore the call. But it rang again almost immediately.

Just as she was about to silence it a second time, Edward broke the silence. “Aren’t you curious about who’s calling? What they want from you?”

“I…”

His nonchalant tone made her hesitate.

After a moment of internal debate, she answered. “William, where are you?” His voice, usually so cold, was laced with urgency.

“Eleanor! Where are you?” His concern was palpable, but she knew it wasn't for her well-being; it was driven by fear of what she might do.

“Wow, is that really what this is about?” she shot back, her words sharp. “Where I am shouldn’t matter to you.”

“Eleanor, I… I’m sorry,” he stammered.

“‘Sorry’ is just a word, William. It means nothing. Spare me,” she replied evenly.

“I know,” he rushed on, desperation creeping into his voice. “But I still need to say it. I’ve always seen you as a sister. I just can’t love you the way you want. I can’t marry you.”

“I get it. Thanks for clarifying, William.”

“Don’t just brush me off! I can give you everything… except the marriage.”

“Oh, really? Everything?” Eleanor questioned with a hint of sarcasm.

“Yes, anything you want. Just say it, and I’ll do my best to make it happen.”

Eleanor’s smile was brittle. “Could you bring my dad back to me?”

“Eleanor…” He was at a loss for words, stumbling over his own apology.

“You’re afraid I’ll go to Grandpa, aren’t you? Don’t worry; I plan to,” she said, the bitterness clear in her voice. Seeing that unspeakable moment had fractured everything.

Slamming her phone shut felt liberating. But before she could even tuck it away, a large hand snatched it from her.

“Edward, what the hell are you doing?” she snapped, irritation boiling over.

His glare was icy. “You had the audacity to call me by my first name.”

“Fine, I should’ve said ‘Uncle Edward,’ right?” she corrected sarcastically, extending her hand for her phone.

His face darkened at her insolence.

“Look, we signed the paperwork. That title should change by now.”

“Change how? To ‘Your Grace’?” Eleanor retorted, catching the undertone in his words but staying defiant.

“You really think you can just…”

He grumbled, finally relenting as he unlocked her phone, tapping in some numbers before handing it back. “Here’s my number. It’s saved in your phone now.”

“Really? I didn’t even ask for your number,” she muttered, rolling her eyes at his arrogance.

“Supermarket. We need groceries. I’m starving. Let’s go.”

Chapter 5

Eleanor Grayson leaned against the car window, staring blankly at the passing scenery, feeling the weight of silence that filled the vehicle. The man beside her—William Night, a figure she had once found charming—sat as still as a statue, his demeanor that of a brooding deity, entirely aloof.

When the car finally wheezed to a stop at the supermarket, Eleanor delayed her exit. She watched Thomas Strong, a man of sturdy build and reliable presence, help William, who moved gingerly with a cane. Eleanor offered no assistance; she merely observed, her heart tangled in a web of conflicting emotions.

“Eleanor Grayson,” William grumbled, an edge of indignation in his voice, “we may not be able to act like a real husband and wife, but at least you could show some compassion for your limping husband. Is it gonna kill you to help me?”

Eleanor flushed at the accusation, fumbling for a response. “Come on, Uncle, don’t be mad! You’re tall and strong, and I’m just… me. Thomas is better suited for this.”

“Who’s Thomas? You mean ‘Little Thomas’ or ‘Thomas Strong?’” William shot back, irritation clear on his face. He may have been her uncle, but his pride was a different beast altogether.

Realizing that William was displeased, Thomas quickly interjected, “Miss Grayson, just call me Thomas. He insists on that.”

“Miss Grayson? It’s Mrs. Three, actually,” William snapped, the irritation radiating like heat waves. Thomas nearly staggered back, bewildered by the outburst. What was he supposed to do with this sulky, temperamental lord of the manor?

“Yes, Mrs. Three, my mistake!” Thomas hastily amended, shaking his head at his boss’s antics.

Eleanor, meanwhile, had no interest in playing the role of a dutiful wife. Revenge against William was on her mind, and with a forced laugh, she dashed forward, leaving him to grumble in her wake.

With a sigh of resignation, William urged Thomas to catch up.

Eleanor had always assumed that men like William, born with a silver spoon in their mouths, lived in blissful ignorance—much like Edward Night, who knew nothing beyond the luxurious pampering of his lifestyle. Yet, to her astonishment, she found William deep in thought, selecting fresh produce with the care of a seasoned chef.

“Holy moly, who knew he had this side?” she muttered under her breath, not quite believing the transformation.

William glanced over, his brow furrowing. “What was that, Eleanor? Who’re you calling a penny-pincher?” he asked, the amusement in his eyes an invitation for trouble.

“I didn’t say anything about being cheap,” she retorted, waving her hand dismissively, even though she’d definitely meant it.

William tossed his vegetables into Thomas’s basket with a dramatic flair before swiping the shopping basket and thrusting it into Eleanor’s arms. “Well, since you seem so loaded and generous, why don’t you go ahead and weigh those? You can pay for them too.”

“Wait, what?” Eleanor sputtered, momentarily stunned. Before she could gather her thoughts, William had turned on his heel and walked away with Thomas, leaving her to grasp the situation.

“William Night, you bully! I didn’t even bring my wallet!” she shouted after them, but the two had already disappeared into the store.

“Eleanor Grayson,” William called back from a distance, his voice almost mocking. “Now do you understand why it’s hard for broke folks to get by?”

Defeated, Eleanor looked down at the basket of veggies, frustration bubbling inside her. With no cash in her pocket, she did the only pragmatic thing left and abandoned the goods, racing away from the supermarket in defeat.

“Eleanor Grayson, think back on what you called me—‘penny-pincher’ or not? Was that really clever?” William’s cool, smug tone finally broke the silence in the car as they all sat inside.

Eleanor merely nodded, her pride bruised.

“Good. And here—” he rummaged through his jacket pocket and pulled out a sleek card. “Here’s a hundred grand, more than enough for whatever you want. The code is your birthday. Use it.”

“William Night, you can’t just—” She stopped when she noticed his irritated expression. “I mean, Uncle…”

“Quit dragging your feet. You’re my wife. I’ve got your expenses covered. Spend it wisely. And for heaven’s sake, don’t go embarrassing yourself in front of William Night and his gal pal, Alice Greenwood.”

“Okay,” she replied, caught off guard yet feeling a newfound spark of rebellion against his arrogance. He didn’t think she’d accept this just to flaunt it in front of his enemies, did he?

“Look, if you’re not going to shop for us, I’m left starving here—thanks to you. My stomach is delicate, and guess what? You’re on cooking duty from now on.”

“Wait, what?” Eleanor clamped her mouth shut to keep from cursing, bewildered by his audacity. Was he really pulling this on her? A penny-pinching tyrant turned tyrannical chef overseer? It was infuriating and utterly ridiculous.

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