Chapter 6

The First Battle

​Ethan’s POV

I was cooped up in the study all damn day. Buried under this new project and trying to wrap up the final signing on the company's new contracts.

THUD! THUD!

I nonchalantly asked who it was.

“Came to let you know… our new madam’s here, sir,” the maid mumbled through the door.

"Fine," I replied, staying exactly where I was. I had no intention of rushing down to see her like some desperate, lovesick fool.

By the time I finally headed to my wing, I was tired as hell and all I wanted was a shower and some good sleep. Then I saw it. A thin line of light under my bedroom door. “What took them so long to get the room tidy?” I grumbled, figuring the maids were still in there tidying up.

I shoved the door open and nearly lost it. There she was, lying on the bed, shoes on the rug, and hair all messed up on my pillows.

Felt like she’d broken into my space and taken over. Her perfume was already filling up every corner of the room.

“Why the hell is she in my room?” I snarled.

The two maids by the wardrobe practically jumped out of their skins. “Sir,” one stuttered, “you never told us where to put her. We just thought…”

I turned on her with a look that could cut steel. “You thought you could make decisions for me? Pack her stuff and get out. All of you are fired.”

“No…..”

“They didn’t do anything wrong,” she said in a hard voice, stepping up to me. “I picked this room because I was worn out. If you wanna be harsh, take it out on me. Don’t mess up their lives because of what I did.”

“Get out. Now,” I told the staff.

They scrambled out fast, shutting the door behind them and leaving us alone. I moved right into her space until she had to tilt her head way back just to look me in the eye.

“This marriage is just a contract. Nothing else. Don’t ask for any kindness, and don’t you ever think there’ll be anything intimate between us. This room’s off-limits to you.”

“Believe me,” she whispered, her eyes as hard as stone. “The last place I wanna be is anywhere near you.”

She walked off without another word, leaving me there with my blood boiling. But as the quiet settled in again, a cold little twinge of guilt hit me. Shouting like that was way too much, I should’ve just told the maids to put her in the guest room.

I squashed that feeling before it could take hold. She shouldn’t be waiting around for me to be nice to her. She’s the one who signed those papers. She’s the one who ought to feel guilty for agreeing to this contract in the first place.

Serena's POV

I woke at five.

The room felt cold and too large, like it didn’t belong to me. Sleep would not return, so I got up.

When I stepped into the hallway, the first maid who saw me flinched.

“Good morning, Madam,” she said quickly.

“It’s okay. Call me Serena.”

She blinked in surprise.

“I’m here to clean your room,” she added.

“I already did,” I said.

She peeked inside and froze.

I walked past her. “Is there anything else to do?”

“Oh no, Madam, we have staff for that.”

“Then let me help.” I left before she could say anymore word.

I followed the smell of butter and toasted bread into the kitchen.

​The maid hurried after me, looking worried. ‘Oh, no! We have staff for that,’ she said but

​I didn't stop. ‘Let me go help them then,’ I called back.

“Good morning, everyone,” I chirped, as they all turned to look at me, exchanging panicked glances with each other.

“I'd like to join you all in cooking as well,” I began rolling up my sleeve, “What does Mr. Ethan usually like for breakfast,”

After a moment of silence, an older maid with a warm smile spoke up. “ He usually loves some Poached eggs and smoked salmon on toasted English muffins, topped with a rich, buttery Hollandaise sauce.

​"Perfect," I said, reaching for an apron. “Then let's get started.”

The next few hours passed quickly as we experimented with various ingredients, tasting each one to ensure the dishes were perfect.

A rich aroma filled the room as the final plates were ready.

I cut a small piece of the sausage and offered it to the head maid.

​"Please, tell me if it’s missing anything," I said, holding my breath.

​She took a bite, her eyes widening in genuine surprise. "Oh, Madam... this is incredible. It’s even better than the five-star catering we usually order." She looked at me with a soft, respectful smile. "You’re a good wife to him, Serena, he’s lucky to have someone who cares this much.”

​I felt a warm flush creep up my neck. "Thank you," I whispered. If only Ethan saw it the same way. To him, I was just a contract and a ghost in his hallways.

I helped the staff set the table, rushing to my seat as his heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway. Ethan entered, adjusting his silk tie.

He didn't even look at me as he sat down, his mind clearly on the briefcase beside him.

​He took a large bite of the sausage, chewing slowly.

I held my breath, waiting for a smile, or a nod, or any reaction at all.

​"Did we hire a new chef this morning?" he asked, his voice lacking its usual bite. He took another bite, almost appearing to enjoy it.

"The seasoning is... good."

​The maid beside me couldn't help herself. She beamed with pride, gesturing toward me. "No, sir. Mrs. Serena prepared everything herself."

​The silver fork clattered against the porcelain plate and the air in the room suddenly turned cold.

Ethan’s expression shifted from mild satisfaction to a mask of pure, unadulterated rage. He looked at the half-eaten food as if I had served him venom.

​"Throw it all away," he commanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

​"Ethan, what's wrong..," I stated, my heart sinking.

​"I don't eat 'charity' and I certainly didn't marry you to have a servant," he snapped, pushing the chair back so hard it nearly toppled. "Don't ever step foot in that kitchen again. Do you understand? You are a wife in name only. Act like one."​He turned on his heel and stormed out, while ​I stood there, feeling humiliated,

The maids began to clear the plates in funereal silence. I felt a hand on my shoulder, it was the older maid, “Please don't be angry at Mr. Ethan, he's a sweet person if you get to know him better, just take your time with him, he's only like this because he feels like his personal space is being invaded.

"His space?" I whispered, my grip tightening on the table until my knuckles turned white. He hadn't given a single thought to mine or the fact that I never chose this gilded cage.

He wanted a wife in name only? Fine. But if he was declaring war on my presence in this house, I was going to make sure he lost.