The morning light crept softly through the curtains, gently waking Racheal. Her eyelids fluttered open, but for a moment, she didn’t know where she was. The unfamiliar ceiling above her slowly came into focus, and then everything hit her like a wave... last night. She had finally been with Christopher, the man she had dreamed about for so long. A warm flush spread across her cheeks as she realized she was lying there naked. Her heart beat a little faster, and a small smile tugged at her lips. Sophia would be proud of her. Now all that mattered was waiting to see if she was pregnant, the plan was working. But then, she turned her head, and her smile froze. It wasn’t Christopher beside her. It was Alex. Panic surged through her veins. Her breath caught in her throat. How could this be? Her body trembled as if the blood had suddenly drained from her face. “Alex?” she whispered, disbelief thick in her voice. He was fast asleep, peaceful and unaware. Memories started to come
After they shared bits and pieces of their pasts, silence settled between them. Not the awkward kind, but the kind that spoke louder than words. They both sat there, lost in thought, when Christopher felt something soft fall against him. He looked down. It was Olivia. She had fallen asleep, her head gently resting on his lap. His entire body froze for a moment. His breath hitched. Her long lashes touched her cheeks, her lips slightly parted as she breathed steadily, and a loose strand of hair fell over her face. She looked... peaceful. Soft. Innocent. Completely unaware of the chaos she was stirring inside him. Christopher had never felt this before, not for anyone. He swallowed hard, unsure what to do. His gaze moved to her lips. They were pink. Full. Tempting. And God, the way they parted with each quiet breath.. it was enough to drive a man mad. He tore his eyes away, looking up at the sky as if it could help him gain control of his thoughts. But it didn’t.
The room fell silent, so quiet that Olivia could hear her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. Every pair of eyes had turned to her. She stood at the center, frozen under the weight of their attention. Her palms grew clammy, and her legs felt like they might give way at any second. She tried to breathe, but her chest tightened. "Why are you still standing?" a cold voice snapped. It came from the woman beside the grandmother. "You were told to leave." Olivia took a shaky step back, her instincts screaming at her to run, but then she felt a hand slip into hers. Christopher. She turned, eyes wide, and found him standing beside her, holding her hand tightly. His jaw was tense, his eyes locked on his grandmother. “She’s part of this family, for now,” he said calmly, though Olivia could hear the strain in his voice. “She won’t be—” “Leave too, Christopher,” the grandmother interrupted, her voice as sharp as a blade. A collective gasp filled the hall. The tension thickene
An hour passed, and Christopher still hadn’t returned. Olivia tried to keep herself busy, hoping to distract the nerves building inside her. She chose one of the dresses she’d brought, a red sleeveless gown that stopped just above her knees. Simple, elegant, and bold enough to make a statement without drawing too much attention. She brushed her hair out, letting it fall freely over her shoulders. Her fingers trembled slightly as she applied her lipstick, but she managed to keep her hand steady. Just as she finished, the door creaked open behind her. Christopher stepped into the room. His gaze flickered to her, lingering for a brief second. "Already dressed?" he asked casually, walking toward her. "I forgot to tell you about the evening party. It’s tradition." Olivia nodded. "I know. Diane mentioned it when I met her earlier. She seemed… kind." He pressed his lips into a thin line, his expression stoic. "She is," he replied shortly. "I’ll go get ready. Just wait here."
As Christopher turned the key and opened the door, Olivia followed him in. The room smelled faintly of polished wood and fresh linen.. cleaned in advance, no doubt. It wasn’t large, but it wasn’t small either. A single bed sat neatly in the middle, the sheets tucked perfectly, the corners sharp. Her gaze swept around. It was simple, almost too simple. Dark walls, minimal décor, not a single touch of warmth. The furniture was old but expensive. Masculine. Cold. It felt like a room meant for someone who didn’t care much for comfort. It gave her goosebumps. She stared at the bed for a moment longer, her thoughts betraying her. Were they really going to share that bed? Christopher’s deep voice cut into her thoughts. “Familiarize yourself with the room,” he said, turning to her. “The servants will be here soon to help with the bags. For now, I need to see my grandmother.” She nodded once, but couldn’t stop herself from asking, “How many people will be here?” He glanced at her
Sophia and Racheal traveled together in the same car, both dressed elegantly for the annual Brooks family gathering. The mansion they were heading to was deep in the heart of the city, an old but grand estate passed down through generations. Although the event was strictly for immediate family, Racheal had always been an exception. She’d been Sophia’s closest friend since they were kids, practically raised alongside her. Meanwhile, in the second car, Olivia sat quietly beside Christopher. The silence between them was deafening. Christopher hadn’t said much during the ride, and Olivia didn’t want to push him. He seemed calm, almost too calm. One hand rested on his lap, the other on the door. She shifted slightly in her seat, sneaking a glance at him. His eyes were closed now, like he was either resting or pretending to sleep. Either way, he wasn’t in the mood for conversation. She looked away. This was one of the longest times she’d ever spent in such close proximity with him