Chapter 4: Testing Boundaries

Victor wasted no time after sealing their agreement. The very next day, he sent a car to collect Olivia’s bringing and her to his house that would now be her home. The building tower over the city like a cold glass façade reflecting the world outside, a world she was beginning to feel increasingly disconnected from. Olivia sat in the backseat, staring out of the window as her old neighborhood slowly disappears behind her. The life she had known was now over, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead filled her with a mixture of fear.

The house was as stylish as she remembered, but now it felt more like a cage than a luxurious home. The living room’s open space seemed to swallow her as she walked in, her footsteps echoed against the marble floor. Victor was waiting for her, dressed as always, his posture relaxed yet commanding as he leaned against the piano by the window.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, his voice was smooth and casual, as though she were merely a guest. “I’ll have the staff bring your things up shortly.”

Olivia dropped her bag onto one of the plush armchairs, feeling the weight of the situation heavily on her shoulders. “I didn’t expect to move in so soon,” she admitted, glancing around the room with an uneasy expression. “I still have somethings to tie up.”

“You’re here now,” Victor replied, dismissing her concerns with a wave of his hand. “Anything you need can be taken care of for you. You don’t need to worry about the details. That’s what I’m here for.”

She frowned at his tone. “I’m capable of handling my own affairs, Victor.”

He approached her, his eyes on hers. “Of course you are,” he said, his voice was dropping to a low murmur. “But things are different now. You’re no longer just Olivia. the struggling artist. You’re Mrs. Husley. And that comes with certain expectations.”

Olivia stiffened at the way he said her new title, as though it was a claim that left no room for argue. She had agreed to his terms, but she wasn’t going to let him dictate every aspect of her life. “I may be Mrs. Husley, but I’m still my own person,” she said confidently.

Victor’s lips curved into a smirk. “We’ll see how long that lasts,” he whispered, before turning away to pour himself a drink. “There’s an event tonight. A business dinner I need you to attend with me.”

“A business dinner?” Olivia asked, caught off guard. “And you didn’t think to ask me first?”

“This isn’t the kind of arrangement where I ask,” he replied, glancing over his shoulder. “You’ll be by my side when I need you to be. Consider it your first duty as my wife.”

The casual way he spoke about her new role made Olivia flush. It was too early to start picking fights, and she needed to choose her battles wisely. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll go. But I’m not some accessory you can show around to impress your business associates.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Victor said as he took a sip of his drink. “You’re far more than just an accessory. You’ll find that being Mrs. Husley comes with its own pearls.”

Olivia didn’t have a chance to respond before the doorbell rang, and a member of the staff entered with a garment bag. “Your dress for the evening, ma’am,” the young woman said, setting the bag down carefully before going out of the room.

Olivia sees the bag warily, as if it contained a snake. She wasn’t used to being dressed up like a doll, and the thought of wearing something Victor had chosen for her felt like an interference on her personal space. Still, she unzipped the bag and pulled out the dress, a sleek, black gown that shimmered with shine in the light. It was undeniably beautiful, but it also looked expensive, too expensive for someone like her, who had spent most of her life wearing thrift store finds.

“Go ahead and try it on,” Victor encourage, watching her with a keen gaze.

Olivia took the dress into the bedroom. She slipped into it, and as she looked at herself in the mirror, she hardly recognized the woman staring back. The gown fit her like a glove, hugging her curves and showing her figure in ways she hadn’t thought it was possible. It made her feel like someone else, someone who belonged in Victor’s world.

When she stepped back into the living room, Victor’s eyes travel over her appreciatively. “Perfect,” he said, setting his glass down on the piano. “Now, let’s go. We don’t want to be late.”

The dinner was held at a lavish restaurant, where the city’s elite gathered to discuss deals and show their wealth. As they entered, Olivia felt all eyes turns toward them, the whispers beginning to surround through the room. She was aware of the curious glances and envious stares, but none of it mattered as much as the firm grip of Victor’s hand on her lower back, guiding her forward.

They were seated at a private table, joined by several of Victor’s business people. The conversation was simple at first, discussions of the market, recent mergers, and upcoming projects. Olivia did her best to appear engaged, even though most of the topics were far outside of her interest. Victor, on the other hand, seemed to thrive in this environment. His charm was effortless.

As the evening goes on, Olivia found herself being drawn into the discussions despite herself. She spoke up a few times, sharing her thoughts on topics that she was familiar with, and to her surprise, some of the men at the table listened. She caught Victor glancing at her, with an unreadable expression in his eyes. There was a flicker of approval with something darker and possessive.

Just when she thought the evening would pass uneventfully, one of the men, a silver-haired guy with a lecherous smile, leaned in closer to her. “So, Mrs. Husley,” he said, his tone fills with amusement. “How did Victor manage to find such a beautiful wife? He usually has a hard time keeping them around.”

Olivia feels a flash of anger at the way he spoke, as though she was some kind of ornament to be displayed. “I’m not sure that’s any of your business,” she replied coldly.

The guy chuckled, glancing at Victor as if expecting him to join in on the joke. But Victor’s expression got hardened, his gaze was fixed on him with a warning. “Careful, Tom,” he said, his voice was calm. “You’re walking on thin ice.”

Tom raised his hands in a joke, but there was a light grin on his face. “Just making conversation,” he said. “No need to be so protective.”

Olivia felt Victor’s hand tightens on her shoulder, and she realized that her response had been more than just answer, it had been a test. A test of boundaries, of how far Victor would go to have control over her. And though she had held her own, she could feel the shift in the atmosphere, as though Victor’s grip on her was tightening, binding her even closer.

As they drove back to the house, the silence between them was unreadable. Olivia could feel the tension, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of the incident at the restaurant or because she had dared to challenge Victor’s control. When they arrived, she half-expected him to demand obedience or make some other show of his dominance. But instead, he simply poured himself another drink and sat down, staring at her with dark gaze that made her pulse fasten.

“Don’t ever let another man speak to you like that again,” he said, his tone was low and controlled.

Olivia said at his tone. “I can handle myself,” she replied, meeting his gaze. “I don’t need you to fight for me.”

“You’re my wife,” Victor said, his voice was deepening with a dangerous edge. “And you will be treated with respect. If anyone forgets that, I’ll make sure they remember.”

There it was again, the possessiveness and the claim in his voice that was slowly wrapping around her like a tightening rope. But as much as she wanted to resist and push back, she can't. It was twisted and wrong, but she couldn’t deny that the idea of being fiercely and overly protected, even if it came with price attached to her.

Olivia turned away, unable to face him as her emotions caught in her chest. She felt herself being pulled deeper into his world, into his grasp. And with each step she took, the line between captivity and obsession was fading.

To be continued.