Chapter 1: The Bear He Brought Home

My husband, Adrian Blackwood, hated plush toys.

He hated childish decorations, bright colors, sentimental gifts, and anything that made a luxury mansion look less like a museum. When we first got married, I once placed a small rabbit plush on our bed because it reminded me of my childhood. Adrian picked it up with two fingers, looked at it as if it carried disease, and said, 'Lena, we are adults.'

The rabbit disappeared the next day.

So when Adrian came home one rainy Thursday evening holding an oversized teddy bear in his arms, I thought I was hallucinating.

I stood at the top of the staircase, one hand resting on the polished railing, watching him enter the foyer. His black suit was damp from the rain. His dark hair was messy, and his expression was colder than usual.

But the strangest part was the teddy bear.

It was almost as large as a child, with faded brown fur, glassy black eyes, and a dark ribbon tied around its neck. It looked old, expensive, and oddly unsettling.

'Adrian?' I asked slowly.

He looked up.

For half a second, something like panic flashed across his face.

Then it vanished.

'Go back to sleep, Lena.'

'It's only nine.'

'Then go read something.'

He walked past me without explanation.

I turned and followed him with my eyes as he carried the teddy bear toward his private study.

The study door closed.

The lock clicked.

A strange silence filled the house.

That was the first night my husband chose a teddy bear over me.

At first, I told myself there had to be a reasonable explanation. Maybe it was a charity item. Maybe someone important had given it to him. Maybe it belonged to a child from one of the Blackwood Foundation events.

But Adrian did not mention charity.

He did not mention a child.

He did not mention anything.

The next morning, the bear was sitting in his study chair.

I knew because I entered while he was in the shower.

I had never snooped through Adrian's things before. Not because I trusted him completely, but because he gave me very little access to his world. His phone had passwords. His office had locks. His schedule was handled by assistants. His heart had walls I had spent two years failing to climb.

Still, something about that bear pulled me inside.

It sat upright behind his desk like a silent visitor.

Its fur was worn near the left ear. One button eye seemed slightly newer than the other. The ribbon around its neck carried a tiny silver charm shaped like a rose.

I reached out.

My fingers had barely touched the ribbon when Adrian's voice cut through the room.

'Don't touch it.'

I jerked back.

He stood in the doorway wearing a white shirt, his hair still wet, his eyes sharp with anger.

'I was just looking.'

'I said don't touch it.'

His tone made my cheeks burn.

'It's a teddy bear, Adrian.'

'It's mine.'

Mine.

One word.

Possessive.

Defensive.

Almost intimate.

I stared at him, waiting for him to soften, to explain, to laugh and tell me I was being silly.

He did none of those things.

'Leave,' he said.

Something inside me cracked a little.

Not loudly.

Just enough to hurt.

I walked out of the study with my pride barely intact.

By evening, the bear had moved into our bedroom.

I found it sitting on Adrian's side of the bed.

For several seconds, I simply stared.

Then I laughed.

A small, nervous laugh.

Because what else could I do?

My billionaire husband, a man who negotiated hostile takeovers without blinking, had brought home a giant teddy bear and placed it where a wife should have been.

When Adrian entered the room, I folded my arms.

'Is it sleeping with us too?'

He removed his cufflinks calmly.

'Don't start.'

'I'm asking a fair question.'

'No, you're looking for a fight.'

'You brought a teddy bear into our bedroom.'

'And that offends you?'

'Your attitude offends me.'

His jaw tightened.

'I'm tired.'

'So am I.'

He looked at me then, really looked at me, but not with love. With irritation.

'Then sleep in the guest room.'

The sentence landed like a slap.

I wanted to ask if he meant it.

But the answer was already in his eyes.

So I picked up my pillow and left.

That night, I lay awake in the guest room, staring at the ceiling while rain struck the windows. I thought about our marriage.

Adrian and I had not married for love.

At least, he hadn't.

Our families had merged businesses. The Blackwoods needed my father's shipping connections. My father needed Adrian's money to save his company. I was the ribbon tied around the deal.

Still, I had tried.

I learned Adrian's habits.

I memorized his coffee order.

I attended boring events beside him.

I defended him when tabloids called him heartless.

I convinced myself that patience could become love.

But lately, Adrian had grown colder.

Late nights.

Secret calls.

Locked doors.

And now the bear.

At midnight, I heard footsteps in the hallway.

Soft.

Careful.

I opened the guest room door a crack.

Adrian stood outside our bedroom holding the teddy bear against his chest.

His face was turned away from me.

But I heard him whisper.

'I'm sorry.'

My breath caught.

Sorry?

To a toy?

The next morning, I decided I was done pretending everything was normal.

At breakfast, Adrian sat at the long marble table reading financial reports. The teddy bear sat on the chair beside him.

Beside him.

Not across from him.

Not in the corner.

Beside him.

I looked from the bear to my husband.

'Adrian, who does it belong to?'

'Drop it.'

'No.'

His eyes lifted slowly.

'Excuse me?'

'I said no. You don't get to bring something strange into this house, sleep beside it, apologize to it in the hallway, and then tell me to drop it.'

For the first time, his controlled expression slipped.

'You were spying on me.'

'You were whispering to a teddy bear.'

Silence.

The housekeeper froze near the doorway.

Adrian closed the folder in front of him.

'Everyone out.'

The staff disappeared immediately.

When we were alone, he stood.

'Listen carefully, Lena. That bear is none of your concern.'

'Everything in this marriage is apparently none of my concern.'

'Don't be dramatic.'

'I'm your wife.'

'Then act like one.'

I went still.

'What does that mean?'

'It means stop digging into things you don't understand.'

'Then help me understand.'

His eyes darkened.

'No.'

That single refusal told me more than any confession could have.

There was a secret inside that bear.

A secret Adrian feared.

A secret he protected more fiercely than he had ever protected me.

That afternoon, Adrian left for the office.

For the first time in two years, he took the teddy bear with him.

I watched from the window as his driver opened the car door. Adrian placed the bear carefully on the seat beside him before getting in.

Not in the trunk.

Not on the floor.

Beside him.

Like a passenger.

Like someone precious.

My hands tightened around the curtain.

By sunset, curiosity had become suspicion.

By night, suspicion had become fear.

And when Adrian returned home after midnight, I was waiting in the hallway.

He entered quietly, carrying the bear.

Only this time, I noticed something I had missed before.

A faint sound came from inside it.

Not music.

Not a mechanical toy sound.

A phone vibration.

My eyes dropped to the bear's stitched belly.

Adrian saw where I was looking.

His face changed.

'Lena.'

'What's inside it?'

'Move.'

'What's inside the teddy bear, Adrian?'

He stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous.

'Do not ask me that again.'

But it was too late.

Because I had already heard it.

A second vibration.

Then a tiny blue light blinked beneath the seam near the bear's chest.

Something was hidden inside.

Something alive with messages.

Something my husband was desperate to protect.

I looked at Adrian and finally understood.

This was not about a toy.

This was about a woman.

And whoever she was, she had been sleeping between us long before the teddy bear ever came home.