Chapter Two
2413 Words
he morning light at the Carthen Estate was harsh, it invaded with full force and bounced unforgivingly off the pristine white marble and the floor-to-ceiling glass. Olivia had spent the night in the east wing, staring at the ceiling and reliving the silence that had followed sophia’s question the previous night.
“Are you actually planning on sleeping with her?”
William hadn't answered, and his silence was more insulting than any "no" could have been.
Olivia dressed with quick precision. She wore a fitted, cream-colored silk top that matched her hair, a luscious, thick mane of honeyed blonde that spilled over her shoulders in polished, sun-kissed waves. Her reflection in the mirror felt like that of another person. She had a lovely, oval face with a delicate yet clearly defined jawline. Her warm, deep amber-brown eyes were bordered by straight, dark brows and thick lashes, giving her the appearance of constant, peaceful observation.
Her lips were full, naturally flushed and set in a line of calm that concealed the turmoil of anxieties beneath. She was striking in a way that felt both classic and modern, with an effortless beauty that didn't require shouting to be recognized.
The quiet murmur of voices ceased as she walked into the breakfast room. William sat at the head, dressed in a charcoal suit. Eleanor - his mother was by his right, dressed in navy silk that had her looking regal. Veronica sat across from her, and next to eleanor sat Charlotte, who was browsing through her phone with an air of studied disinterest.
"Good morning," Olivia said, her voice steady.
"Oh, Olivia! Morning sweetheart, you look radiant," Veronica chirped, in a beautiful, warm voice. "I was just telling Eleanor how much the lighting in the estate suits your complexion."
With a soft, deliberate click, Eleanor put down her teacup. "Veronica, light can be deceiving. It frequently discloses more than is intended. She gave Olivia a scrutinizing look, noting the way the morning sun caught her dirty-blonde hair. "Though, I must say, your outfit choice is... decent. It exhibits a certain restraint.”
"Thank you, Eleanor," Olivia replied, catching the subtle "backhanded" nature of the compliment.
"William was just mentioning the transition of the West land assets," Veronica continued, leaning forward. "William, we are thrilled to have a man of your vision in charge ofthe legacy. Olivia is quite aware of the significance of this union. She knows what is at stake for the future of our family."
Olivia could feel the fire of humiliation. Her mother was behaving as though she had just sold a prize mare to a trader.
Charlotte finally looked up from her phone, her sharp blue eyes studying Olivia's face. "Mother, please. If Veronica spends any more time going on about land deeds, I'm going to lose my appetite. Olivia isn't a land deed." She paused, her gaze still on Olivia.
"Though she does have the bone structure of a Renaissance painting. Seems like a waste to keep her tucked away in the East Wing, don't you think, William?”
William finally glanced up from his tablet, his blue eyes cold and assessing as he watched how the light fell across Olivia's face.
"Where Olivia stays in the house is for her own privacy and comfort, Charlotte." He slid a black leather folder across the table toward Olivia. "Your schedule for the week. Thursday there's a gallery opening for the Davenport Foundation. We'll be attending together.”
"What about Sophia?" Olivia asked. The name felt bitter in her mouth. "Mother said she's consulting for the gala. Is she going to be involved in this too?”
The table went quiet. Charlotte raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by Olivia’s nerve.
William’s expression didn't change, but his voice cooled. "Sophia's there in a professional capacity. She's an expert and knows how these events work better than anyone. I expect you to maintain decorum and be civil when dealing with her.”
Olivia scoffed, “Of course….why wouldn't I be civil? You know, I might even come to appreciate her expertise in these events”
"Decorum is easy to maintain, William," Olivia continued quietly. "It’s the boundaries that seem to be... blurred. But I guess that's not really important for a business deal, is it?"
Eleanor leaned back, her face giving nothing away. "Decorum is all that matters here, Olivia. You'd do well to remember that." She turned to her son with a warm smile. "William, the gala fittings are for this afternoon. I'll take care of them myself and make sure everything's perfect."
"Thanks, Mother," William said, his voice softer now. "I've got a board meeting, so I really appreciate it.”
He stood up, signaling the end of the meal. After he and Eleanor exited, Veronica’s "doting" act vanished. She leaned across the table.
"Are you trying to ruin this for us?" Veronica's voice was barely above a whisper, but it was harsh.
"You don't provoke a man like that. Not when we're this close to getting everything back. You do what you're supposed to do, or you'll end up right back in that freezing studio with nothing."
"I'm not your puppet, Mother." Olivia said, standing her ground.
Charlotte who had hung back, stood up and slipped her phone into her pocket, then walked past Olivia. She stopped just close enough that only Olivia could hear her. "Don't worry about them. My brother likes things quiet because he's scared of what people might say if they actually spoke up. But here's some advice? Don't let your mother sell you off twice. You're way more interesting than whatever land she's fixated on."
Then Charlotte left, leaving behind Olivia and her mother.
After she heard the front door close behind the Carthens, Olivia stayed put. The room was too quiet now except for the ticking of a clock somewhere down the hall. She didn't head to the library like she was supposed to. Instead, she turned to face her mother.
Veronica was still at the table, gracefully touching up her lipstick like none of the tension had happened just minutes ago.
"Mother." Olivia's voice went flat and cold, the way it did when someone ruined one of her paintings. "We need to talk about your ‘phone charger’."
Veronica didn't look up, but her hand paused for just a second. "I don't know what you mean, darling."
"William does," Olivia said, moving closer to the table. "He knows you were in his father's study yesterday. He knows you were at the safe. Do you realize what you just gave him? He already sees us as some debt he has to deal with. Don't give him a reason to see us as thieves too.”
Veronica slammed the compact shut. When she looked up, her eyes finally had that frantic look. "I was trying to find the land surveys! The ones your father said were ours. If I don't get those papers, all we have is whatever scraps William throws our way."
"You promised." Olivia's palms hit the table. "You said if I went through with this wedding, the scheming would stop. No more going through his things. Stay out of his safes. If you screw this up before I can find out what happened to Dad, I'm leaving. I'll walk out that door and you can deal with the Carthens by yourself."
Veronica's mouth closed. Something in Olivia's expression made her back down for once.
"Alright," she said finally. “I hear you”
Olivia didn't wait for anything else. She left and went straight to the library, her pulse racing. She'd managed to stand up to her mother, but everything about this house felt like it was closing in on her.
She dropped into the chair by the window and tried to steady herself. That's when her phone went off
It was an unknown number with a photo of her sitting at the very table she had just left.
“A house of mirrors, Olivia. They only see the West name. They don’t see the girl holding the brush. Don't let the Carthens bury you as deep as they buried your father.”
A chill ran down her spine, she looked toward the window but she saw no one. The gardens were empty, but the feeling of being watched didn't fade. She was no longer living her normal danger free life any
more, someone was watching her every move. She was the center of a target.
- Writer
