Chapter 3: Welcome Dinner

Mabel's POV

I squinted, taking a closer look. And that's when I recognized it, It's the one the lady had given me at the wedding. I had forgotten about it.

My fingers carefully spread it open, displaying a beautiful handwritten note: "Please look after my son and keep him safe, just as you would yourself.”.

A frown crept on my face. Was she mocking me? Who needed protection, he or I? I squeezed it with a huff and let it drop to the floor. “It's nothing important,” I said dismissively, brushing what I had just read to the back of my mind.

***************

Standing in front of the huge mansion, my fingers clenched tightly on my purse, my mind spiraling with a million reasons why I shouldn't be here. I should be getting ready for work. Not out here pretending to be a good daughter-in-law. This wasn't a role I wanted to play.

“It's okay to be nervous, most first times are like that.” Nora nudged me, a small smile forming on her face.

Nervous? Who was nervous? I watched her blankly without saying a word. We had just met, so it was understandable to assume things. I didn't feel even the slightest bit of nervousness, if anything, I was trying to keep my anger in check. At least, just for tonight.

“Lead the way,” I said curtly, leaving no room for further discussion. She got the hint and started moving toward the main entrance with me trailing behind.

She already told me that she was familiar with the place because her mother had worked for the Fergusons ever since she was a kid. And Now, due to a situation she got caught up in, she found herself in the same position. She didn't delve into details and I couldn't care less.

My eyes roamed the building and I found myself admiring the interiors absentmindedly.

‘Stop acting like a novice!’ my pride scolded inwardly and I instantly refocused my gaze ahead. That's what I should've done in the first place.

Soon, we entered a room that had a long dining table that looked like one that could be found in a boardroom. The table was so big, yet only 3 people were present. The groom, the mother, and the grandfather.

“Over here!” The woman exclaimed as soon as she set her eyes on me. She pulled a seat close to her and signaled for me to sit.

“Call me if you need anything,” Nora said in a tone only audible for me to hear. Before I could say, ‘Jack”, she was gone. I sighed, feeling defeated. Now the real challenge begins.

My body lowered onto my seat with me muffling a “Thank you, ma'am,”

“Oh please, just call me Emily.” She waved her hand in the air with a small laugh and returned to her seat. I found her behavior too cheesy and quite uncomfortable but there's not much I could do about it.

“Oh, okay.” I forced a tight-lipped smile, and I was sure I looked ridiculous at the moment. I could feel it.

“You have no regard for your elders.” came the devil's voice. Our eyes locked momentarily and all I could see was pure hatred, making me wonder if I had wronged him in the past without knowing. So much hatred for a person you just met.

‘I won't let him get to me,’ The words repeated in my mind, all in an attempt to keep my shit together. Because I know myself, I could lose it and things will end badly.

If anyone should be mad, that should be me. I'm the one who got married to a stunt double or whatever you call it. He has no right whatsoever to hold a grudge against me. I'm the one who was wronged. Violated. Humiliated!

Instead of responding to him, I sat up with my shoulders held high and my expression unreadable amidst the rising tension.

Sensing that I wasn't moved, he leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “You also have no sense of responsibility.” His voice had a faint, almost undetectable taunt in it.

“I'm right on time.” I countered, my voice steady and purposive. I didn't care if they'd been seated for about an hour or more; I got here exactly in time. I made it in time. I didn't tell anyone to be earlier than the arranged time.

“Cut her some slack. It's barely 12 hours and you're already stressing your wife.” Old Mr. Ferguson reprimanded, his wrinkled face squeezing in displeasure.

Then he turned to me, staring intently,

“I see you like your present.”

He's really serious. Gifting a human to another human like in the days of slavery. So laughable.

“I didn't have much of a choice,” I responded with my voice barely above a whisper.

The servants began trooping in with trays of a variety of dishes. In no time, the long table was occupied without different kinds of meals making me wonder if more people were joining us.

One of the servants made to serve me but Emily stopped her. “I'll do it”

Her voice dripped with unmistakable excitement, as though it's a once in a lifetime opportunity.

“I hope the meals are to your liking; I put a lot of effort into this,” As she spoke, her eyes twinkled with delight; carefully, she took a little portion from each dish and placed them before me.

There's something about the way that she treats me, something about the look on her face that I couldn't understand. It's almost as if she's known me for ages.

“I appreciate the effort, Emily.”

What followed was boredom. No music, no entertainment, just some dumbass business talks that I didn't care to pay attention to.

Nora offered to show me around, but I was already tired; nothing else interested me. There's nothing I wanted more than to leave here.

The clicking sound of heels carried through the hall, rudely interrupting Landon who was in the middle of a sentence. Intrigued, my neck twisted in the direction of the sound before I could stop myself. A woman, old enough to be Landon's grandmother, emerged from the dimly lit hallway, in a fitted red gown that clung onto her body like a second skin.

She walked with elegance and precision, her energy filling the room with unspoken tension. Her ability to walk in such high heels at her age is something worth commending.

Her fingers were decorated with expensive stones, all in red. I wondered what her obsession with red was about.

There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere due to her presence. The tension was palpable; through the corner of my eyes, I could see Landon's expression darkening.

“Why is she here?” His question was directed at his grandfather who looked quite taken aback.

“Did I miss the party?” She kissed the old man gently on his cheek, and with a gentle rub on his head, she grabbed a glass of water. “God! I'm so thirsty.”

“Why are you here, Olivia?” the old man asked, his voice holding a hint of anger even though he tried to mask it.

I sensed something off in their moods, and somehow, it excited me because I was about to be entertained for real this time.

Finally! Some drama!

Leaning back in my chair with my arms folded over my chest, I watched enthusiastically as everything unfolded.

“What do you mean?” She placed the empty glass back on the table, pouting. I must admit, despite her age, she was a beauty.

“My grandson got married and you didn't think I was worthy of an invite? How could you treat me like an outcast?” She placed her palm on her chest dramatically feigning hurt.

A stifled laughter escaped my throat earning a deadly glare from Landon.

I quickly gulped down a glass of water; I needed the energy; it's not every day you get to see a wealthy family fighting.

In a split second, she appeared behind me, pretty swift for her age.

“She's so pretty..“ she gasped, squeezing my shoulders, “You sure have eyes for good things, just like your grandfather.” She smiled, almost blushing at her own words.

“But you look oddly familiar.” Her eyes squinted, her gaze so intense that it could pierce one's spirit.

Landon's gaze on her grew colder with each passing second. His jaw tightened, his hands gripping tightly on the edge of the table as though trying to restrain himself from doing something stupid. He leaned to his grandfather and whispered something, his eyes on Olivia the entire time. The old man sighed.

I was curious, was there some kind of internal conflict in their home?

“I ask again, why are you here?” The irritation in the old man's voice was evident this time.

“Because I have every right to be here,” Olivia retorted, almost yelling.

“Didn't I tell you that I would let you know when the time’s right?” the old man let out a frustrated hiss. “Why don't you ever listen?” He sounded as though he was holding himself back from yelling.

“We're family, why are you taking sides?

I made all this effort to celebrate an addition to this noble family and you choose to embarrass me in front of everyone… servants included.” Her voice cracked at the last words.

The servants who seemed to have forgotten themselves and become onlookers, scurried away.

The old man sighed in frustration. “You should go back.”

Olivia's eyes widened, disbelief tingling in them. I, myself, was quite taken aback by the old man's persistence.

“Take the jet, that would be less stressful.”

The old man added, his voice dictative and unrelenting.

“Ho.. how do you mean? I just got here, why should I go back?”

“Because you acted on your own accord.” Old Mr. Ferguson clarified, his tone void of any emotion.

“Hurry up and leave.” He stood from his seat as though his mood had just been ruined, “Dinner is over, everyone should get some rest.” With that, he walked to the staircase.

Then he stopped, turning once again “Mabel, Landon will show you to your room.” My stomach churned in disagreement. Your room? Like singular ‘your’ or plural? And why did it have to be Landon?

He turned back to the stairs, and continued,

“Olivia, there's no place for you here today, save your energy and leave,” His voice was etched with finality, one that made it almost impossible to defy.

To say I was confused was an understatement. I sat there, motionless, taking in everything that had just transpired.

Seconds passed and the deafening silence lingered in the atmosphere, increasing the tension.

But it was soon interrupted by a deep masculine voice,

“She is not going anywhere!”