The stranger in the mansion

Chapter 1

The Sinclair mansion was really quiet.

Olivia Hart stood at the iron gates. Looked up. The house was all glass and white stone sitting on a hill like it was the best. She had seen pictures online.. Pictures didn't prepare her for how cold the house felt.

Her hands got tighter around the bag she carried. Inside was a folder with her dads company reports. The numbers were bad. Again.

"Mrs. Sinclair, " the guard said through the gate speaker. "Your name is not on the list of visitors.”

"I know, " Olivia said softly. "My dad is coming later. I just... I wanted to come. To speak to Mr. Sinclair first. Alone."

The guard hesitated. Then the gate clicked open.

She had three months left on the marriage contract. In three months she would be free. No more Mrs. Sinclair. No more pretending she had a husband. For three years she had been married to a man she never met. Mark Sinclair. The name felt like a stone in her mouth.

Her dad needed money. Again. The Hart business was. The only people who could help were the Sinclairs. So Olivia came before her dad did. Maybe she could beg. Maybe she could keep her family's pride.

She walked up the driveway. The air smelled like roses and money. A maid opened the front door before she knocked.

"Miss Hart?" the maid asked, surprised. "Mr. Sinclair is not expecting guests."

"I understand, " Olivia said. "I can wait in the study. My dad will be here soon."

The maid led her through halls that looked like a museum. Everything was clean, expensive and empty. No family photos. No laughter. Just silence.

"Wait here " the maid said, leaving her in a room with dark wood walls and a fireplace. Books lined every shelf. On the desk was a glass of whiskey.

Olivia sat down. Her heart was beating fast. She hated asking for help. Three years ago she agreed to the marriage to save her parents. She never complained. She never asked Mark for anything. She lived in an apartment across town and worked as a bookkeeper. To the world she was Mrs. Sinclair. In truth she was a ghost.

A sound made her turn. Footsteps.

Mark Sinclair walked into the room.

He was taller than she expected. Dark suit, no tie. Dark hair was messy like he was in a hurry. His eyes were black and sharp. They cut through her without warmth.

Olivia stood up fast. "Mr. Sinclair. I'm sorry I didn't know you were home. I was waiting for my dad."

Mark stopped. He looked at her at the glass on the desk. His pupils were too wide. Sweat ran down his temple. Something was wrong.

He had been drugged. One of his rivals put something in his drink at a business dinner an hour ago. The assistant was looking for a doctor.. Mark came here instead, angry and burning from the inside.

"You " he said. His voice was low and rough.

Olivia took a step back. "I can leave. I didn't mean to intrude."

Mark wasn't listening anymore. The drug made the room spin. It made his skin feel like fire. He saw a woman. Soft. Scared. Beautiful in a way that had nothing to do with makeup or designer dresses. Her hazel eyes were wide. Her lips were parted like she wanted to say something.

He moved before he could think.

Olivia gasped when his hand caught her wrist. "Mr. Sinclair, stop—"

He pulled her close. He smelled like whiskey and a storm. "Don't talk, " he said. "Just stay."

"Please " she whispered. "You don't know who I am."

"I don't care," he said. The words broke her.

He kissed her. It wasn't gentle. It was desperate like a man drowning. Olivia tried to push him but her body betrayed her. She had been alone for long. No one ever touched her like she mattered. For a moment she forgot about contracts and debt and shame.

He carried her upstairs. The world became heat and whispers and hands that didn't know her name. Mark called her "you" and "mine". He didn't say Olivia. He didn't know.

When it was over he fell asleep beside her his breathing heavy. The drug finally let him go.

Olivia lay awake in the dark. Tears ran down her face. She made no sound. She was Mrs. Sinclair. This man was her husband on paper.. He just took her like she was a stranger.. Worse, he spoke to her like she was nothing.

A door opened downstairs. Voices.

"Mr. Sinclair was drugged, " Daniel Reed, his assistant, was saying. "He came home angry. He probably found some woman. These families they think they can use him—"

"About the Harts, " another voice said. "If his father hears Richard Hart is coming again he'll lose his mind. That family is a mess. Always begging. Mr. Sinclair said he can't wait for that contract to end. He calls Mrs. Sinclair a ghost who married him for money."

The words hit Olivia like ice water.

A ghost. Married for money.

She closed her eyes. Her chest hurt. She never asked Mark for money. She never even asked to meet him. She stayed away to give him freedom.. This was what he thought of her.

She dressed quickly, her hands shaking. She left a note on the nightstand: I'm sorry. No name. She couldn't say it. Not now.

She slipped out of the room and down the stairs. The maid was busy in the kitchen. No one saw her leave.

When Mark woke up hours later the room was empty. The note was the proof she was real.

He sat up, his head pounding. He remembered the woman's hair. Dark brown, soft on his hands. He remembered her eyes. Hazel with tears she refused to let fall. He remembered her smell.. Warm, like summer.

"Who are you?" he whispered to the room.

For three years he counted down to the end of his contract marriage. He wanted his freedom.. Now with this stranger gone something in his chest felt empty. He needed to find her.

He didn't know her name. He didn't know her face in the light. He only knew that he couldn't let her go.

Downstairs Olivia stepped into the air outside the mansion. She pressed a hand to her stomach. It was too early to know anything.. Fear bloomed in her chest.

She was Mark Sinclair's wife.. After tonight she might be carrying his child.

She walked away from the gates without looking. Three months left on the contract. That was all.