Chapter Fifteen
715 Words
Olivia’s shift ended at five. The store lights dimmed to their evening glow, and the last customers drifted out through the automatic doors. She packed her things slowly, smoothing her uniform as if pressure could steady her hands. Near the lockers, her coworkers were still chatting when someone suddenly sucked in a breath.
“Look outside.”
“That SUV. Who owns that.”
Another voice whispered, almost reverent. “That is a Jimenez plate.”
The murmurs grew, hushed but electric.
Olivia stepped through the glass doors, clutching her bag close. The sleek black SUV idled at the curb, silent and imposing. Then she saw him.
Simon was in the driver seat, crisp shirt, sleeves folded neatly, posture carved in stone. When her eyes met his, he did not smile. He only lifted a hand, a minimal gesture for her to open the passenger door.
His presence silenced the street. Even the air seemed to pause.
Olivia climbed into the SUV. The door closed gently behind her, sealing her in the cool, leather-scented quiet.
They pulled away from Mart One under the stunned stares of her coworkers.
Olivia kept her hands folded on her lap. “How will this arrangement work,” she asked softly. “Where will we get married. When will this happen.”
Simon did not look at her when he answered. “In two days. Civil ceremony. Afterward, you will move into my house.”
Her breath caught. “So soon.”
“There is no value in delay. Delay invites interference.”
His voice held nothing but fact, spoken with the same weight as a legal ruling.
Olivia hesitated. “It sounds as if I do not have much say in this.”
“You do,” he said. “State your preference.”
The offer startled her. It was unexpected, like finding a window in a wall she thought was solid. “I would prefer a quiet wedding,” she whispered. “This is not a… typical union.”
Simon gave a small nod. Not agreement, but confirmation. As if she had merely spoken the answer he already predicted.
“Have you told your parents?” he asked.
“No,” she admitted. “I told my mom that I would decline. I was afraid of how she would react.”
His jaw tightened with cold displeasure. “You heard everything I said. Yet you still fear them more than me.”
She stiffened.
Simon continued, his tone flat and absolute. “You will go home and inform them you are marrying me. They will not interfere.”
The words fell like law passed down from a court without appeal.
The SUV turned toward the bypass road. City noise faded. The road opened into quiet fields and tall trees. Then the gate appeared, followed by a modern home framed by clean lines, tall windows, and warm lighting.
Not large. Not ostentatious. Private. Guarded. Controlled.
Olivia stepped out with a shallow breath. She had never seen a place like this. Everything seemed intentional. Everything seemed his.
At the door, an older woman bowed slightly. “Good evening, sir. Good evening, ma’am.”
Olivia flushed at the title.
Simon motioned to the living room. “We will talk here.”
She followed him. Her steps felt small against the polished floor.
He sat across from her, posture straight, gaze steady enough to unsettle the air. “You will tell your parents today,” he said. “You will be clear. You will be firm. They will accept it.”
Olivia lowered her eyes. “They never cared enough to ask where I went. They may not care now.”
“That is irrelevant,” he said. “This is not about care. This is about recognition.”
“Recognition of what.”
“That you now fall under my household.”
The words struck the room with quiet finality. A vow disguised as truth. A claim delivered without theatrics.
Olivia felt something shift beneath her feet. The life she had known loosened like sand.
She realized the path she chose was no longer a choice. It was already becoming a world she would have to walk in. A world shaped by a man whose word felt heavier than law itself.
- Writer
