Dinner

Kate's POV

He looked calmer than I expected, dressed sharply in a dark shirt and trousers, with a watch that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.

"That’s enough, Lydia," he said firmly, his eyes on his stepmother. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried weight.

Lydia turned slightly. "I was just welcoming your bride."

"By insulting her?" Calvin’s tone sharpened. "She’s my wife now. Show some respect."

She scoffed, clearly annoyed but not daring to push further. She glanced at me with a fake smile before walking away.

I was still frozen, unsure what to say or do.

"Hey," Calvin said, looking at me now. His voice was softer. "You okay?"

I nodded. "I… yes. Just a little overwhelmed."

"Figured." He motioned toward the hallway. "Come. Let’s get out of here."

I followed as one of the guards pushed his chair ahead of me. The house was quiet, and I could still feel Lydia’s eyes burning into my back.

Calvin looked back slightly. "Sorry about her. She hates everyone."

"She made that pretty clear."

He smiled a little. "You handled her well. Most people either cry or snap."

"I almost did both," I admitted, letting out a short laugh.

We reached a quiet room, a study, I think, and he waved the guard away. It was just the two of us now.

He looked at me, more seriously this time. "You didn’t expect all that, did you?"

"Honestly? No," I said. "I thought I’d just come here, sign some papers, fake a few smiles, and be done."

"Sorry to disappoint." He leaned back. "This family doesn’t do quiet arrangements."

I sat down across from him. "Are they all like that?"

"Worse," he said flatly. Then after a pause, "You really signed the contract?"

I nodded.

He studied my face for a second. "Even though you don’t want to be here?"

I didn’t reply.

"It’s okay," he said. "I know why you’re here. You didn’t choose me. Your father did."

"Do you blame me?"

"No. But let’s be clear, I don’t do pity. If you’re here, you play the role. I won’t stop you from leaving, but if you stay," He paused. "You stand beside me. Not behind me."

I stared at him, unsure of what to say. This man wasn’t what I expected. Not weak. Not bitter. He was sharp, composed, and surprisingly direct.

"I’ll do my part," I said quietly.

"Good." He gave a small nod. "Then welcome to the madness, Mrs. Johnson."

Calvin’s eyes lingered on mine after that bold welcome.

“Come on,” he said, turning his chair toward the hallway. “You should see your room.”

I followed him down a long corridor lit with soft gold sconces. The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable, just… cautious. Like we were both studying each other in the corner of our eyes.

He stopped in front of a tall, white door. One of the staff opened it ahead of us.

“This one’s yours,” he said simply.

I stepped in slowly. The room was… beautiful. Classy, warm-toned, and surprisingly cozy for a mansion. A king-sized bed, a chandelier that sparkled softly overhead, thick pink curtains, and a giant mirror on one side.

I turned to him. “It’s beautiful.”

“I told them not to make it feel like a prison,” he said. “You’ve already been forced into enough.”

I blinked. That wasn’t what I expected.

He wheeled himself closer, resting a hand lightly on the armrest. “Kate,” he said, “I know this situation is far from ideal.”

I folded my arms, unsure if he was about to guilt-trip me or ask for something.

He didn’t. He just looked at me and added, “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

That threw me off.

“You think I’m pretending?” I asked, raising a brow.

“I think you’re overwhelmed, cornered, and probably wish you were anywhere else.”

I opened my mouth to respond. Then shut it.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

“I didn’t expect you to be this…” I trailed off, searching for the word. “Blunt.”

He smirked a little. “Well, I didn’t expect someone who had refused to marry me for some years to just suddenly agree.”

Heat crept up my neck. I didn’t know if I was embarrassed, annoyed, or both.

“I didn’t think it mattered,” I muttered.

He looked at me for a long second. “It doesn’t. I’m not judging you, Kate.”

The way he said my name made my chest tighten just a little.

He turned slightly toward the hallway. “Get some rest. The family dinner’s tonight. You’ll want your energy.”

“Will it be like earlier?” I asked, not hiding the worry in my voice.

He paused, looked at me over his shoulder.

“No,” he said. “It’ll be worse.”

And with that, he rolled away, leaving me standing in a room that suddenly didn’t feel so warm anymore.

Later that night, I dressed up, picked clothes from the wardrobe. It seems he had prepared my arrival, gotten my clothe size, and even shoe size when I tried some of the shoes on.

I went out of my room in time to see it was time for dinner.

The dining hall looked like something out of a movie, long table, candles flickering, silver plates shining too much for comfort.

I sat beside Calvin at the far end, feeling every single eye in the room on me.

They didn’t even try to hide it.

Across from me was a beautiful woman with cold eyes. She gave me a tight smile.

“So, you’re the new wife,” she said. “Interesting choice.”

Calvin didn’t look at her, just said, “Vanessa.”

That one word was enough to shut her up. She raised her wine glass and sipped like I wasn’t even worth the argument.

I glanced around the table. Strangers. All of them. And none of them looked like they were happy to see me.

Lydia sat a few seats down, swirling her wine slowly, lips curved like she knew something I didn’t.

“You’re quite composed,” she said. “Most new brides tremble on their first day. You? You almost look comfortable.”

I kept my face still. “Thank you for the compliment, I wish I could say the same of you, ma'am.”

That got the table’s attention. Forks froze. Glasses paused midair. Even Calvin turned to glance at me.

He smirked. “She learns fast.”

Then came a deep voice from the other end. Calvin’s father, I assumed.

“Let’s hope you stay longer than the others.”

I frowned. “Others?”

Vanessa leaned back in her chair, smiling like she was enjoying a private joke. “No one told her?”

“Told me what?” I asked.

A younger guy, maybe a cousin, tapped his knife against his plate, grinning.

“You’re not the first, sweetheart. Calvin’s had, what, three wives?”

“Four,” Lydia said calmly, not even blinking. “If we count the one who died before the wedding night.”

My stomach dropped.

I looked at Calvin, waiting for him to deny it. Explain. Laugh. Something.

But he just stared down at his plate.

“What happened to them?” I asked, my voice barely steady.

Silence.

Then Lydia smiled, slow and sharp.

“They died,” she said. “Different ways. Same end.”

I felt my breath hitch. “You’re joking.”

“No, dear,” Vanessa said. “One drowned. Another had an accident. One fell from the balcony, or was it the stairs?”

“She had a heart attack,” someone added. “At twenty-five.”

Laughter. Soft, twisted laughter.

I stared at them all. Faces with perfect makeup. Fancy clothes. Wine in their hands. Talking about dead wives like it was part of the dessert menu.

And Calvin? Still silent.

That was the part that scared me most.

Lydia raised her glass. “We’re all just curious, Kate. That’s all.”

I blinked at her, my mouth dry.

“Curious about what?”

She met my gaze, eyes cold as ice. “How long you’ll last before you die too.”

I swallowed hard, my breath hitching.