The soft chime of a bell rang through the hallway, signaling that dinner was ready. Olivia had been sitting on her bed for the past hour, stewing over what had happened earlier. Her encounter with Nicholas outside the locked door had left her rattled, and the way he had spoken to her still echoed in her mind.
This is my house, my rules. His words replayed over and over, grating on her nerves.
She took a deep breath and straightened her dress. It wasn't like she had much of a choice—dinner was expected, and the last thing she wanted was to seem weak in front of him. She needed to prove, even if just to herself, that Nicholas King wasn't going to intimidate her.
As Olivia descended the grand staircase, her heels clicking against the marble, she could already hear the faint clinking of silverware coming from the dining room. She walked with purpose, trying to channel the strength she had in her painting, the part of her that knew no limits. But as she neared the large dining room, the pit in her stomach returned. The house felt larger than ever, like it was swallowing her whole, and her place in it seemed...insignificant.
When she entered the room, Nicholas was already seated at the far end of the impossibly long dining table. The sight of him, calmly cutting into his food, made her blood boil. How could he sit there, so composed and unaffected, after what had happened earlier? He hadn't even waited for her to arrive before starting dinner, as if she was nothing more than a passing thought.
Maids lined the walls, their expressions blank, hands folded neatly in front of them. The atmosphere was thick with an uncomfortable silence.
Without acknowledging Nicholas, Olivia took her seat at the opposite end of the table, far enough that they might as well have been in different rooms. She glanced down at her plate—pan-seared salmon, asparagus, and a delicate serving of risotto. The food looked perfect, but she had no appetite.
For the first few minutes, the only sounds were the clatter of forks against plates and the occasional soft shuffle of the maids. Nicholas didn't even glance in her direction. He just continued eating, his every move precise and calculated.
Olivia's chest tightened with frustration. She stabbed at her food, barely tasting it as she chewed. Her mind raced, replaying their earlier confrontation. She couldn't take this silence, this tension that simmered beneath the surface.
Finally, she couldn't hold it in any longer.
"Is this how it's going to be?" Olivia's voice sliced through the quiet, sharp and demanding. She didn't look up from her plate, but she could feel Nicholas's gaze on her now. "We just sit at opposite ends of the table, pretending like we're strangers?"
Nicholas didn't respond immediately, taking his time to finish chewing. When he finally spoke, his tone was cold and dismissive. "You prefer small talk, Olivia? I didn't peg you as the type."
Her grip tightened on her fork. "I didn't peg you as the type to keep secrets either, but here we are."
Nicholas's jaw clenched, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. He set down his fork and wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin, as though preparing for battle. "You're overstepping."
"Overstepping?" Olivia shot back, finally meeting his gaze. Her eyes burned with defiance. "In case you forgot, I live here now. I have a right to know what's going on in this house."
Nicholas leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable, but the tension in his body was obvious. "You live here because of a contract. Don't confuse your position with having any real power."
Olivia's chest tightened. His words were like a slap in the face, but she wouldn't let him see how much they hurt. She had been thrown into this marriage to save her father's company, but that didn't mean she was going to let Nicholas walk all over her.
"You think you can control everything, don't you?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly with emotion. "That this marriage is just another piece in your little power game."
Nicholas's eyes darkened. "You don't know anything about me."
"And whose fault is that?" Olivia shot back. "You keep everyone at arm's length, you hide things, and then you act like you're the only one who's allowed to have any control. It's suffocating, Nicholas."
For a brief moment, something flickered in Nicholas's expression—anger, frustration, maybe even pain—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. He stood abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it back.
"I didn't ask for this marriage any more than you did," Nicholas said, his voice low and dangerous. "But unlike you, I know how to play my part."
Olivia's heart pounded in her chest. His words were laced with venom, but there was something else beneath them, something raw. She stood as well, matching his intensity.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, her hands trembling slightly as they rested on the table.
Nicholas's lips curled into a bitter smile. "It means that while you're here prying into things that don't concern you, I have bigger things to deal with. Like keeping your father's failing company afloat."
His words were a dagger straight to her chest. Olivia's hands gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white. "You're keeping it afloat?" she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don't pretend like you're doing it out of the kindness of your heart."
Nicholas's gaze locked onto hers, cold and unyielding. "You think I'm the villain here, don't you? That I'm just using you, using this marriage for some twisted revenge."
Olivia swallowed hard, but she didn't look away. "Aren't you?"
The silence that followed was thick, the air in the room almost suffocating. The maids stood frozen in the background, their eyes carefully averted from the confrontation playing out before them.
Nicholas's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Believe what you want, Olivia. But don't ever forget that I hold all the cards in this game."
Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to stand tall. "You're wrong," she said softly. "I'm not just another pawn in your game. I'm going to find out what you're hiding, and when I do, this whole charade will come crashing down."
Nicholas's expression remained unreadable, but his eyes burned with intensity. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the dining room, leaving Olivia standing there, her heart pounding in her chest and her mind racing with a thousand unanswered questions.
The door to the dining room closed with a soft click, but the tension in the air remained thick, suffocating.
Olivia sank back into her chair, her hands trembling as she picked up her fork once more. But the food on her plate looked unappealing now, tasteless. She pushed it away, her mind swirling with thoughts of what had just happened.
Nicholas was hiding something—something big. And whatever it was, it had the power to destroy everything.