chapter three
1054 Words
“Illusion”
Olivia stood outside the marriage hall, clutching her marriage certificate with a dazed expression. It was surreal barely twenty-four hours after finalizing her divorce, and she was married again. This time, not as a stand-in. This time, it was her choice.
Logan Hall watched his petite bride as the summer sun bathed her in a golden glow. She looked radiant almost unreal. Even now, he struggled to believe she was truly his. He remembered the first time he saw her, back when she had eyes only for someone else. Someone who made her smile unconsciously, blind to the man who had quietly vowed to one day make her his.
“Baby,” Logan called gently.
Olivia Tran blinked up at him, startled by the endearment. To Logan, she looked like a timid little bunny fragile, innocent, and his to protect forever.
“Let’s go home,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the Bentley.
The Hall family was made up of four siblings: Wilson, the eldest; Anastasia, the second; Charlotte, the third; and Logan, the youngest. Old Master Hall had only married once. When his beloved wife, Veronica, died giving birth to Logan, he became a widower and never remarried. Logan was special to him not just because he was the child born in old age, but because he bore an uncanny resemblance to his late mother. Master Hall doted on him, and Logan never gave him reason to regret it. Brilliant and ambitious, Logan made his mark early in life.
In contrast, Wilson Hall was the family’s scandal. A known Casanova, he fathered children with multiple women and paid little mind to the family name. Though uninterested in the family business, Wilson was shrewd his investments funded his lavish lifestyle with ease.
His children, however, were nothing like him. Mason, Penelope, and Gracie Hall each from a different mother were fiercely ambitious and openly vied for control of Hall Properties. Gracie, an A-list actress, mirrored her father’s hedonism. Mason and Penelope, on the other hand, were caught in a constant power struggle, both competent, though Penelope often outpaced her brother. Logan, disinterested in politics, remained on the sidelines watchful, but silent.
The Bentley pulled up in front of a towering penthouse. Olivia’s eyes widened as she took in its sleek, modern architecture a clear reflection of Logan’s refined taste. Yet, the minimalist interior of the living room felt sterile, almost lifeless. She sighed inwardly as they entered the master bedroom, which didn’t improve her impression. She placed a hand over her belly subconsciously, her expression falling.
Unbeknownst to her, Logan watched every gesture. To him, even her small pout was endearing.
“If you don’t like the design,” Logan said gently, “feel free to change it.”
“Definitely,” Olivia replied seriously.
Logan laughed, a warm and carefree sound that stirred something within her. She found his laughter oddly magnetic seductive, even. Her eyes lingered on him a moment longer than she intended.
A strange familiarity crept over her. A hazy memory surfaced—a boy who once smiled at her shyly and looked away when their eyes met. The image was blurry, but as she focused, it began to take the shape of the man before her.
“Mr. Hall,” she asked hesitantly, “have we met before?”
Logan’s eyes lit up, and his gaze softened. He reached out, gently caressing her cheek. Olivia was certain then there was something deeper in his eyes. A quiet affection. A long-held love.
Before he could answer, a knock came at the door.
“Mr. Hall,” the butler, Santos, called from the hallway. “Miss Anastasia is here.”
Olivia stiffened.
She knew exactly who that was. Anastasia Hall had never warmed to her. With her sharp gaze and composed demeanor, the woman made Olivia feel as though she were always being measured and always found lacking.
“Oh,” Logan said, unfazed. “Honey, let’s go meet my sister.”
He brushed aside her worry with a smile, taking her hand and leading her out of the room.
In the living room, Anastasia Hall sat elegantly, dressed in understated designer wear that only emphasized her striking beauty. She resembled Logan, though her vivid green eyes set her apart. There was a quiet power to her a calm but commanding presence that made others uncomfortable. Even now, with Logan and Olivia hand in hand, she showed no reaction. Her eyes merely flicked to their intertwined fingers.
“Sister,” Logan greeted warmly, pulling her into a hug.
“Finally decided to stop hiding from me?” Anastasia said coolly, still barely acknowledging Olivia.
Logan chuckled. His sister hadn’t changed.
“Meet my wife,” he said, glancing at Olivia.
Olivia wished the floor would swallow her. She would have preferred to remain invisible.
Anastasia’s expression darkened at Logan’s words. She knew her brother well he didn’t commit lightly. But why had he married his former niece-in-law?
“Does Father know?” she asked.
“He should,” Logan replied with a shrug.
Right then, his phone rang. He glanced at it, then ignored the call.
Anastasia studied him for a long moment, then rose and picked up her bag. At the door, she turned back and looked at Olivia.
“Please be good to him,” she said, her voice neutral but the meaning unmistakable.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Olivia turned to Logan.
“Did she just... accept me?” she asked softly.
Logan smiled. “Maybe.”
Before he could say more, Reynolds entered.
“Mr. Hall, the Old Master wants to see you,” he announced. “We need to return to the office.”
Logan sighed, clearly displeased. He gave Olivia one last look soft, promising then turned and left.
Olivia smiled at his retreating figure and his figure interlaced with a long forgotten memory of hers. She was stunned and confused.
“why do I keep seeing this” Olivia said with her hands on her head.
She turns around and look at Santos who had a professional expression on his face. “boring” she said not understanding why an handsome man would down all the time . To Olivia, Santos looked like a robot
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