Forced to marry my husband's killer

Chapter Six

Elena felt a surge of anger but kept her expression neutral. “I intend to contribute in any way I can,” she said firmly. “I may not have your experience, but I’m willing to learn and work hard.”

Margaret’s lips twitched, but she said nothing, merely turning her attention back to her plate. The others resumed their conversations, clearly uninterested in what she had to say. Elena felt a pang of loneliness, a sharp reminder that she was very much alone in this new world she had been thrust into.

She turned her gaze to Victor, who had remained silent throughout the exchange. “What do you think, Victor?” she asked, her voice softer, hoping to draw him into the conversation. “Do you think I can contribute?”

Victor looked up, his eyes meeting hers briefly. For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something—regret, perhaps, or uncertainty—but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “We’ll see,” he said simply, his tone giving nothing away.

The conversation continued without her, the family members discussing business deals, social events, and other matters with ease. Elena felt like a stranger in her own life, watching from the sidelines as they carried on as if she wasn’t there.

At the far end of the table, Lily sat quietly, her eyes fixed on her plate. She hadn’t said a word since they sat down, her small hands gripping her fork tightly. Elena caught her eye and offered a small smile, but Lily quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing.

“Lily,” Margaret said sharply, her voice cutting through the chatter. “Sit up straight, dear. You’re not a child anymore.”

Lily obeyed instantly, her back straightening, her eyes lowered. Elena felt a surge of sympathy for the girl. She could see the fear in Lily’s eyes, the way she seemed to shrink under her grandmother’s gaze. It was clear that Lily was as much an outsider in this family as she was.

Elena reached for her glass, taking another sip of wine. She would have to tread carefully here, navigate the minefield of this family’s expectations and prejudices. But one thing was clear: she would not let them break her. She had faced loss, betrayal, and now this forced marriage. She had survived it all, and she would survive this too.

As the meal continued, Elena steeled herself, her resolve hardening. She would find a way to make a place for herself here, to earn their respect—or at least their tolerance. And she would uncover the truth about Victor, about Daniel’s death, and about the secrets that seemed to lurk behind every cold, calculating smile.