The CEO Who Never Wanted His Plus-Size Wife

The Kitchen Confrontation

Alina’s POV

The sun hadn’t even fully risen when I walked down the grand staircase and headed straight for the kitchen, and the house was perfectly quiet because most of the staff weren't scheduled to arrive for another hour. I put a small pot of water on the stove for oatmeal, and I leaned against the marble counter while waiting for it to boil, thinking about the look in Lucien’s eyes when he looked at me in the cottage, but the sound of sharp heels clicking on the tile brought me back to reality.

Celeste stepped into the kitchen wearing a velvet dressing gown, and she didn't even look at me as she walked over to the coffee machine to start a fresh pot.

"I didn't think the help arrived this early, but I suppose you are used to being up with the staff," she said, her voice dripping with a fake sweetness that was meant to be insulting.

"I am not the help, Celeste, and I am simply making breakfast for myself," I replied, keeping my voice level because I wasn't going to let her ruin my morning.

"Is that what you call it, because I saw you looking at the pantry earlier like you were trying to find something to make, so maybe you should just let the actual chefs handle the food," she said, finally turning to look at me with a smirk.

I didn't answer her, so I just focused on stirring the oats in the pot, but as I turned to grab a bowl from the cupboard, Celeste stepped right into my path. She didn't say anything, but she shifted her weight and pushed the edge of my arm with her shoulder, and the bowl I was holding slipped right out of my hand.

The hot oatmeal hit the floor with a wet thud, and some of it splattered onto my slippers, but Celeste just watched it happen with a look of feigned shock.

"Oh, I am so sorry, I must have lost my balance, but I suppose you should have been more careful," she said, though she didn't offer to help me clean it up at all.

"You pushed my arm, Celeste, so stop pretending that it was an accident," I said, grabbing a paper towel to wipe up the mess while my hands shook with suppressed anger.

"Maybe if you weren't so busy taking up so much space, you wouldn't have this problem, but that is the reality of your situation, isn't it?" she asked, walking over to the refrigerator to grab a carton of juice.

"You can say whatever you want about my size, but it doesn't change the fact that I am the one married to Lucien, and you are just a guest in this house," I said, standing up and throwing the wet paper towels into the trash.

Celeste poured her juice and leaned against the island, her expression turning hard. "You are just a temporary placeholder, so why don't you do us all a favor and pack your bags today, because Lucien is already tired of this act and he will never actually accept a plus-size woman as his wife in this world."

"I am not going anywhere, and I don't care what you think Lucien wants, because we have a contract and I intend to honor it until he tells me otherwise," I said, meeting her gaze without flinching.

"You are so naive, because you actually think this is about a contract, but this is about status and power and beauty, and you have none of those things," she said, setting her glass down with a loud bang. "He is just being polite to you, but the moment he finds an excuse, he will sign the papers and you will be out on the street with nothing but your cooking certificates."

"If he wants me out, he can tell me himself, but until that happens, I am going to keep living my life, so I suggest you stop trying to push me around," I said, walking past her to go back to the stove to start over.

"You are delusional, because you are already a laughingstock in the media, and it only gets worse from here," she said, walking toward the doorway. "But go ahead and keep playing house, because it is only a matter of time before you break."

"I am not going to break, so you can save your advice for someone who actually cares," I said, turning the dial on the stove to start the water boiling again, and I didn't even look at her as she walked out of the room.

I felt my heart hammering against my ribs, but I forced myself to finish the oatmeal while the silence of the mansion returned, and I sat at the small breakfast table and started eating, determined to stay in this house until I found out the truth about the photo I had hidden away.