Ren's Pov...
I expected to spend my wedding night awkwardly sitting in the corner of a five-star suite, maybe even pretending to be asleep so I could avoid Evan entirely.
What I didn't expect was to be personally escorted to Evan's private mansion by his mother.
"You'll love the house, Ren!" Clarisse Vallen chirped, sitting beside me in the sleek black car. "The staff already prepared everything. Evan's father and I thought you two needed some privacy, so we'll be staying at the old Vallen estate for a while".
Wait. Privacy?
We literally just met today in front of the priest!
I pressed my lips together, watching the city lights blur outside the window as I clutched the seatbelt like it was the only thing grounding me.
When we arrived, I was not ready for what I saw.
Evan's house.....or more like a miniature castle....was tucked away on a hill, wrapped in tall stone walls and ancient ivy, like something pulled out of a European romance novel.
The grand entrance greeted me with golden chandeliers, high archways, and a long crimson carpet that made me feel like a prince about to be sacrificed.
"Come along, dear" Clarisse smiled sweetly as she led me inside.
The air smelled faintly of old wood and lavender. Everything was too perfect, too polished. Too quiet.
But the moment she opened the door to Evan's bedroom, my heart almost stopped.
The room wasn't just big....it was enormous. Like three hotel rooms stitched together.
One side had soft pastel décor, delicate curtains, floral bed sheets...a room fit for a gentle, poetic soul.
The other side was military sharp....a perfectly made bed with black and silver covers, swords mounted on the wall, boots lined up in neat rows like a soldier lived here.
Near the corner, I spotted a full leather biker jacket, dark jeans, sunglasses, and chains hanging on a chair like someone casually dropped them after a street fight.
Across the hall, I glimpsed a butler's uniform.....crisply ironed, complete with gloves and a silver pocket watch.
I frowned. "This looks like….multiple people live here".
Clarisse laughed a little too quickly. "Oh, that? Don't mind it! Evan is an actor, after all! He keeps costumes from his roles. You know, memories from his past characters. A little hobby of his".
Costumes? Hobby?
Why did it feel like each part of the room belonged to a different man?
"He's very… attached to his roles, isn't he?" I mumbled, still eyeing the wide variety of shoes....military boots, dress shoes, sneakers, house slippers, and wait… pirate boots?
Clarisse patted my shoulder gently. "Oh yes, very. He's very passionate. Don't think too much of it, sweetie".
When she smiled, I realized she wasn't going to say anything more.
The Vallen family had no intention of telling me whatever secret they were clearly hiding.
"Well, I'll leave you here. Evan should be home soon!" She squeezed my hands warmly before turning to leave.
The door clicked shut behind her.
I was finally alone.
I walked slowly to the wardrobe and pulled it open.
Rows and rows of outfits greeted me.
A tax officer's badge.
A pirate's coat.
A butler's suit.
A biker's gloves.
A soldier's jacket.
A casual barista's apron.
A mafia boss's black gloves.
A king's red velvet cape.
Even a simple gardener's hat.
I ran my fingers over the fabrics.
Why did it all feel too….lived in? As if they weren't just costumes but real personalities?
A cold shiver ran down my spine.
Then I noticed the drawer.
Inside, dozens of wallets, all with Evan's face… but different names.
Each one labeled in his handwriting.
Each one tied to a specific identity.
Each one….lovingly well-kept.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.
Something was wrong.
And the worst part?
I was already married to it.