Benjamin's features were alluring. His eyebrows were sharply arched. His dark, bead-like eyes were cold and beautiful—emotionless, yet sharp. His lips were thin, with a faint notch, their color pale against his already bloodless complexion.
One glance at him was enough to send chills down anyone's spine.
It was as if he weren't human at all, but rather the Deathlord himself, crawling out from the netherworld.
Olivia clenched her fists in fear, not daring to move closer.
Benjamin's brows knit with impatience. "I told you to come here," he said curtly.
His deep voice echoed in the chamber, making it sound even more frightening.
Trembling, she took a few hesitant steps forward when suddenly, his hand shot out and grasped her. Olivia lost her balance and fell onto the bed.
In shock, she scrambled, trying to push herself up, but her palms only pressed against the hard muscles of the man's chest.
Benjamin stared down at her, then flipped her over as though she were nothing more than a helpless turtle.
Her snow-pale cheeks flushed crimson, and tears pooled in her eyes. She was already a delicate, lovely girl, but now her teary face made her look even more pitiful.
Still, Olivia did not dare to cry. Her throat tightened as she held back the tears, watching Benjamin warily. She was terrified he might find her noise irritating... and kill her. After all he wasn't named the Lord of death for nothing at all, one wrong move and her head could be rolling on the floor.
She absolutely didn't want to die!
Planting his hand firmly on the bed, he fixed her with a hard stare.
"How old are you?" he asked.
Her heart pounded wildly, his breath warm on her skin. Closing her eyes as though resigning herself to death, she whispered, "I'm twenty one."
Benjamin's expression remained stoic. His beautiful eyes were as cold and distant as ever. Suddenly, he let out a soft scoff.
"So Madam really did buy me a little girl."
Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, trembling slightly, too afraid to reply.
If she hadn't been too scared to reply, she would have told him to his face that she wasn't a little girl but a grown young woman. Her frontal lobe was already well on its way to fully developing, how could she still be called a little girl?
But if course she didn't dare to voice those words, keeping her lips zipped tightly.
At last, he sat up, the emptiness of his broad body covering her down have her a sudden sense of freedom.
"Get up." He muttered lazily.
Following the Donovan family rules, he already knew she was a pure and untouched young woman. If she hadn't been untouched, she wouldn't have been allowed to even walk past the gates.
Olivia slowly sat up, still on the bed, and saw him seated directly in front of her. Her legs refused to cooperate, so she remained frozen, guilt and fear weighing her down.
Suddenly, Benjamin coughed harshly, raising a hand to cover his mouth. When he lowered it, there was blood on his palm.
Olivia's eyes widened. So it was true, Master Donovan really was at death's door.
Seeing her horrified expression, a faint, mocking smile flickered in his eyes.
"This... scares you?" he teased, before rising to his feet and strolling into the bathroom to wash his hands.
Only then did Olivia realize just how tall and slender he was. With his pallor, he looked frail, but she couldn't shake the memory of the powerful muscles she had glimpsed earlier. Her cheeks instantly tinged pink.
While Benjamin remained in the bathroom, Olivia scrambled off the bed and stood obediently by its side, looking utterly lost.
Olivia had no idea how she was supposed to act, was she expected to be a traditional household wife or since she has been bought should she act like a servant instead of a wife?
Worse, her partner was none other than the infamous Master Donovan, a man whose cruelty and brutality were legendary. Just being in his presence made her tremble, how was she supposed to be his wife?
When Benjamin returned, he saw her standing stiffly, like a helpless little animal. Her slender frame, skin white as snow, and delicate face gave her an almost fragile beauty.
He sat on the bed and said blandly, "No matter what relationship you have with my grandmother, you'd better behave yourself. I won't harm you, but if you do anything reckless..."
He paused. Originally, he had meant to say he would kill her. Instead, the words left his lips as,
"Then you'll be buried together with me." For some reason, ruffling the feathers of a green child like bride seemed interesting in his otherwise lackluster life where he was recuperating every day.
Olivia's eyes flew wide. "...Buried together?"
What did he mean by buried together?
Did the Donovan have a twisted tradition of laws that made them bury brides with their husbands upon the man's death?
"Didn't the elderly Mrs. Donovan tell you this?" he asked coolly, a small smirk playing on his lips.
Yesterday, when she had been told she would be sold to Benjamin, no one had explained anything beyond that. Surely the details had been discussed privately with her father. She was sure even if her father was told that she would be hung by the neck after the marriage, he wouldn't feel a thing.
Quietly, she murmured, "I see."
Her soft, gentle voice was so sweet that even in its quietness, it seemed to melt the air around it.
Benjamin regarded her emotionlessly.
When he'd been told he'd get a bride, he hadn't expected a sweet little thing that looked like a meek yet adorable little animal.
Something about her was intriguing the more he looked at her.
"As my bride, you are supposed to sleep with me." He said these words with a teasing smile on his handsome lips. Only the people who knew him would have felt absolutely flabbergasted by seeing such an expression on his face.
Olivia's entire face flamed, her ears burning red as if soaked in blood.
Her lips parted in shock, and she stumbled back a step or two.
What did he just say?
Why hadn't she stopped to think about that this whole time?
As a bride, she was obligated to sleep with her husband.
"It's getting dark," he said simply, then stretched his arm to beckon her over, "Come."
She let out a small whimper of alarm, understanding all too well what he meant. Goosebumps prickled along her back, but she dared not disobey him.
Reluctantly, she edged closer and sat down beside him on the bed.
Benjamin said nothing, only watching her intently.
He had taken countless lives—men, women, young, old. Yet he had rarely bothered to truly observe them. Even those who showed no fear before death had failed to catch his interest.
But this twenty one-year-old girl... She intrigued him.
Frailty clung to her every feature: her delicate brows, button nose, and lips still marked from where she had bitten them earlier.
Her skin was so fair and delicate it looked as though the faintest touch could bruise it. Her neck was slender as carved marble, her waist so soft and thin that a man's hand could span it with ease.
Suddenly, Benjamin reached out and grabbed her wrist, she was suddenly yanked forward and next thing she knew she was sitting on his lap.
Olivia gasped, eyes going wide. His grip around her waist was firm, almost painful, but she dared not complain. She only stared at him with pitiful eyes.
"What's wrong?" He queried in a low voice that tickled her ears being this close to him.
"I...I wasn't told that tonight I'd have to...to..." Her flustered expression and faltering words truly did amuse him, but he suddenly released her a second later.
Like a man suffering from mood swings, his expression suddenly changed, he coldly declared, "You'll sleep on the floor tonight."
Her eyes lit up with relief. Forgetting her earlier nervousness she rejoiced silently. Sleeping on the floor meant she wouldn't have to fulfil nuptial duties of a wife tonight.
Thank heavens!
Benjamin lay back on his bed, ignoring her visible relief. It was a shock to meet a woman who didn't want to jump into his bed, she was the very first.
Not daring to disturb him, she scurried about the room like a cautious little hamster until she found a quilt in the cabinet.
It was February, the air still chilly. Fortunately, the floor heater kept the room warm enough to accommodate Benjamin's illness.
Olivia carefully laid out the quilt on the ground and lay down. Comfortable at last, she breathed a sigh of relief.
She had been born prematurely, and her grandfather had fought hard to keep her alive. As a result, her body had always been weak.
Where others shook off a cold in days, she might be bedridden for weeks.
The last thing she wanted was to fall ill here, because if she did, and if Benjamin grew annoyed, she feared he might simply cast her aside.