If she were returned by the Donovan family and taken back home, Olivia worried most about her grandfather.
He would be the one to suffer.
She was not a weak, spineless girl despite her delicate appearance. If it had been anyone else mistreating her, she would have fought back at the first chance, no matter the cost. But this time...
Her gaze drifted blankly to the ceiling.
It was her own father who had sold her.
If the Donovans drove her out, not only would the promise be broken, but her grandfather's medical treatment would be cut off.
Death would come for him sooner rather than later.
That was the very reason the Shaw family had forced her into the Donovan household.
Olivia let out a soft sigh and tried to comfort herself. At least... Master Donovan wasn't as monstrous as the rumors had painted him.
She had survived their first meeting, and now she was even lying under a warm quilt. That in itself was almost a small blessing.
If she endured and quietly earned money, she could one day bring her grandfather out of the hospital and away from all of this.
Just as she was lost in her thoughts, a cold voice broke the silence.
"Don't make a sound."
Startled, Olivia quickly clutched the blanket tighter.
She hadn't spoken aloud—had it been the small sigh she'd let out? Heart hammering, she immediately covered her mouth and didn't dare make another sound.
Even so, Benjamin seemed unable to fall back asleep. His icy tone, like snow weighing heavily on bare branches, slid through the darkness.
"We're you brought into the Donovan residence today?"
Olivia nodded instinctively, then froze. He couldn't see her in the dark. Trembling, she whispered softly, "Yes."
"Did you go through the body examination?" His question was clipped, his voice so low it was almost a growl.
He knew the family's rules. Every bride who entered their household was to be examined to ensure she was pure. There were no exceptions.
But for some reason, the thought left a sour taste in his chest.
He didn't care about the girl, not really. And yet, from the moment she was sent here, something about her felt like it belonged to him. The idea of another person laying a hand on her, even for something routine, was intolerable.
Olivia blushed deeply at the question. After a long silence, she whispered, "No... someone interrupted before it could begin."
Benjamin's frown eased slightly, a strange flicker of relief settling in his expression.
Then, without warning, he sat up. The shift of the mattress made Olivia's breath catch as she felt his gaze press down on her.
"It did not begin?" His voice was calm, but beneath it lay a hidden weight. "Then I'll have to do it personally."
Olivia's entire body stiffened. His sudden movement made her jump, and his words nearly stopped her heart.
Her face flamed crimson, and every instinct screamed at her to wrap herself in the blanket like a cocoon, to hide away until morning.
Benjamin's tone remained flat, merciless. "Are you going to take off your clothes yourself, or shall I do it for you?"
Her teeth sank into her lower lip. This was not the time to lose her temper, not when her grandfather's wellbeing was at stake. Here, there was no one to defend her. All she could do was endure.
Even so, her almond-shaped eyes welled with tears. Slowly, she sat up, lowering her head so as not to meet his gaze.
In the dim light, her pale fingers trembled as they moved to the buttons of her shirt.
Before leaving home that morning, she had deliberately chosen plain, old-fashioned clothes, an unflattering black plaid shirt, her hair tied into two stiff braids. She had wanted to make herself as unappealing as possible, so Master Donovan would find no interest in her.
But now, as her delicate fingers fumbled at the black buttons, her skin peeked out little by little—smooth, creamy, soft as porcelain.
Her collarbones rose and fell with her nervous breaths, sharp and elegant like butterfly wings poised to flutter.
Benjamin's eyes darkened. He had seen countless women, admirers who had thrown themselves at him in desperation, but they had only ever disgusted him. Never once had he felt a flicker of temptation.
Until now.
He had never expected that the sight of one frightened young girl could stir his blood.
Olivia's fingers slipped past the third button, exposing the pale pink camisole beneath. She was about to force herself to undo the fourth when, suddenly, a sound echoed in the silence.
Grrrrrr.
Her stomach growled loudly in the silence of the bedroom.
She froze, mortified.
Benjamin arched a brow, and the corner of his mouth curved faintly. "Are you hungry?"
Her stomach had betrayed her.
Olivia ducked her head lower, voice as tiny as a mosquito's buzz. "Yes..."
She hadn't eaten all day. No one had offered her breakfast before she left the Shaw house, and the Donovan servants had ignored her completely. To them, she was nothing more than a disposable offering, hardly worth the effort of preparing a meal.
Benjamin's voice was almost casual. "Do you want something to eat?"
She glanced up at him nervously and nodded.
His eyes narrowed. "Don't just nod. Speak."
Olivia clutched at the quilt, gathering courage. In a timid voice, she whispered, "Master Donovan, I... I'm hungry."
His gaze sharpened. "What did you just call me?"
Her eyes widened in panic. If not Master Donovan, then what? Young Master? Husband?
The word husband made her shudder. She could never bring herself to call him that.
"Master Donovan?" She replied softly.
Suddenly, Benjamin's hand caught her chin, his thumb brushing lightly across her trembling lips. He smirked slowly, "Master Donovan will do, but remember what that name means, I'm your master from this moment on. Understood?"
"Yes." The word slipped out, soft and sweet, her cheeks burning with shame.
His eyes narrowed slightly, satisfied. Releasing her, he pressed a metallic button by the bedside.
Within a minute, someone knocked. "Master Donovan."
Benjamin turned to Olivia. "What do you want to eat?"
She froze.
No one, aside from her grandfather had ever asked her that question. Since her grandfather had been hospitalized, she hadn't heard it once.
That it came now, from this infamous devil, made her throat tighten.
Her lips curved faintly, then flattened again. She didn't want to trouble anyone late at night. "Anything is fine," she murmured.
Benjamin's voice carried, cold as steel. "Did you hear that?"
The servant outside hesitated, then answered respectfully, "Yes, Master."
Half an hour later, steaming seafood stew was delivered.
The aroma filled the room, rich broth mingling with the briny fragrance of shellfish. Olivia's stomach growled again as she cupped the bowl in her hands.
She ate quickly, like a little hamster, cheeks puffing as she stuffed down spoonfuls.
Benjamin watched her with unreadable eyes. "Is it delicious?"
She swallowed and answered carefully, "Yes... it's super delicious."
"Let me try."
Before she could react, he had already leaned in, taken the spoon from her hand, and lifted it to his lips.
Her eyes widened in shock.
He tasted it, then narrowed his gaze. "It's not that great."
Olivia's breath caught. He was so close she could see the shadow of his lashes, the faint pallor beneath his skin. His breath carried the bitter scent of medicine, laced with a faint woody fragrance that was strangely intoxicating.
Her cheeks burned hotter.
"Are you full?" Benjamin asked when he noticed her stiffening.
She hurriedly scooped another spoonful into her mouth, only to realize a second too late, it was the very same spoon he had used.
Her blush deepened, her face nearly scalding.
But Benjamin seemed tired. He reclined on the bed, closing his eyes, and said nothing more about the examination.
Relieved, Olivia finished her stew in silence, then slipped away to the bathroom for a simple wash.
Finally, wrapped in her warm quilt kept for her on the floor, she let out a long, quiet breath.
Master Donovan isn't as terrifying as everyone says... He even gave me food.
And with that thought, her eyes drifted shut.