CHAPTER TWO
1145 Words
Olivia stood motionless long after Daniel and Lena disappeared into the crowd. The laughter around her sounded distant, like noise from another world. Her fingers slowly unclenched, leaving crescent marks in her palm.
She should have been used to this.
She was used to this.
Yet it still hurt.
Not because she lost Daniel.
But because she had once believed — foolishly — that something could finally belong to her.
Just once.
Her gaze hardened.
That was her mistake.
Hoping.
Expecting.
Trusting.
Her mother’s words echoed faintly in her mind.
"Don’t trust easily… The world is not always kind."
Olivia exhaled slowly.
She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
If she wanted something…
She would take it.
The Sinclair Group.
Even saying the name was enough to make people lower their voices.
Theodore Sinclair — the youngest CEO in the city. Cold, ruthless, untouchable. At just twenty-eight, he controlled an empire that many old businessmen feared.
Rumors surrounded him.
He never smiled.
He hated women.
He rejected every marriage proposal.
He was merciless in business.
And yet—
Every socialite wanted him.
Including Lena.
Olivia had overheard it weeks ago.
She had returned home early that evening and paused outside the living room when she heard Clara’s voice.
“You must try harder, Lena. If you marry Theodore Sinclair, our future is secured.”
Lena laughed softly.
“Don’t worry, Mom. He’s already paying attention to me.”
“And Olivia?” Clara asked.
A brief silence.
Then Lena’s voice turned cold.
“She doesn’t matter. She can never compete with me.”
Olivia had stood there quietly, her expression blank.
She hadn’t walked in.
She hadn’t confronted them.
But she remembered.
Every word.
Back to the present, Olivia pulled out her phone and stared at a number saved without a name.
She had gotten it months ago.
From a senior.
Theodore Sinclair’s assistant.
She had never planned to use it.
Until now.
Her thumb hovered over the screen.
Her heart beat once.
Twice.
Then she pressed call.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Click.
“Yes?”
The voice was calm. Professional.
Olivia spoke steadily.
“I want to meet Mr. Sinclair.”
A pause.
“May I know who is speaking?”
“Olivia Hart.”
Silence.
Then—
“I’ll check his schedule.”
“No,” Olivia interrupted quietly. “Tell him… I’m offering a marriage.”
The other side went completely silent.
Sinclair Group Headquarters — same afternoon.
The office on the top floor was quiet.
Minimal.
Cold.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the entire city. The sunlight barely softened the sharp atmosphere inside.
Theodore Sinclair sat behind his desk, reviewing documents. His expression was indifferent, his dark eyes focused, his posture relaxed yet commanding.
A knock came.
“Come in.”
His assistant entered carefully.
“Sir… there’s something unusual.”
Theodore didn’t look up.
“Speak.”
“A university student called. She requested a meeting.”
“No.”
The assistant hesitated.
“She said… she wants to offer a marriage.”
Theodore’s pen stopped.
The room fell silent.
Slowly, he raised his head.
His eyes were cold.
“What?”
The assistant swallowed.
“She introduced herself as Olivia Hart.”
Theodore leaned back.
His gaze darkened slightly.
“Send her in.”
The next morning.
Olivia stood outside Sinclair Group.
The building towered above her like something unreachable. Employees moved in and out, dressed sharply, their expressions serious.
She didn’t hesitate.
She walked in.
The receptionist looked up politely.
“Yes, miss?”
“I have an appointment with Mr. Sinclair.”
The receptionist checked her system and immediately straightened.
“Yes… please take the private elevator.”
Whispers followed her.
Students didn’t walk into this building.
Especially not ones dressed like her.
Simple.
Calm.
Unbothered.
The elevator doors opened to the top floor.
The assistant greeted her.
“This way.”
Olivia followed silently.
Then—
The door opened.
And she saw him.
Theodore Sinclair.
He sat behind his desk, his presence heavy, overwhelming. His sharp features were emotionless, his dark eyes unreadable.
He looked at her once.
Just once.
But it felt like being stripped bare.
Olivia walked forward calmly and stopped before the desk.
Neither spoke.
Seconds passed.
Then Theodore finally said,
“You want to marry me?”
His voice was low.
Cold.
Direct.
Olivia met his gaze.
“Yes.”
He studied her.
Her calmness.
Her lack of fear.
Her quiet determination.
Most women trembled under his stare.
She didn’t.
“Reason?” he asked.
Olivia answered honestly.
“I need power.”
His eyebrow lifted slightly.
“And I should give it to you?”
“You gain something too.”
“What?”
Olivia’s voice didn’t waver.
“I won’t interfere in your life. I won’t demand affection. I won’t cause scandals. I only need your name.”
Silence filled the room.
Theodore leaned forward slightly.
“You’re honest.”
“Yes.”
“Most women pretend to love me.”
“I don’t.”
A faint flicker passed his eyes.
Interesting.
“Then why me?” he asked.
Olivia’s fingers tightened slightly.
“Because someone wants you.”
His gaze sharpened.
“And you want to take me?”
“Yes.”
Her honesty was ruthless.
He should have been annoyed.
Instead…
He felt amused.
This girl wasn’t chasing love.
She was chasing revenge.
And he understood that language.
“Well,” Theodore said slowly, “What makes you think I’ll agree?”
Olivia held his gaze.
“Because you need a wife too.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“You know about the board pressure.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
“You did your research.”
“Yes.”
Silence again.
Then Theodore asked,
“And if I refuse?”
Olivia answered calmly.
“I’ll find another way.”
No pleading.
No fear.
No desperation.
Just quiet resolve.
Theodore stared at her for a long moment.
Then—
He smiled.
It was faint.
Cold.
But real.
“Fine.”
Olivia blinked slightly.
“I’ll marry you.”
Her heart skipped.
Not from joy.
But from shock.
That… was easier than she expected.
“But,” he continued, “I have conditions.”
“I’m listening.”
“You obey my rules.”
“Yes.”
“No emotional attachment.”
“Yes.”
“Publicly, you are Mrs. Sinclair. Privately, you stay out of my life.”
“Yes.”
“And once I no longer need this marriage… we divorce.”
Olivia nodded.
“Agreed.”
Theodore stood.
He extended his hand.
“Then, Miss Olivia Hart… welcome to your revenge.”
She looked at his hand.
Then placed hers in it.
His grip was warm.
Firm.
Unexpected.
And in that moment—
Neither of them knew…
This marriage would become their greatest weakness.
- Writer
