Jewelry Box

Ch. 4 A Surprised Fiancee

Victoria

I stood before the mirror, my reflection mocking me. The yellow ruffled dress draped to my feet, its white and pink floral patterns making me cringe.

Hideous. Absolutely hideous.

“Take this off,” I ordered, my tone clipped.

The maids exchanged a nervous glance.

“Did you not hear me? Take it off,” I snapped, sharper this time. They rushed to obey, carefully removing the offending garment.

Wrapped in my robe once more, I exhaled and rubbed my temples. My fingers brushed across the row of dresses hanging neatly on the rack—twenty options, yet not a single one spoke to me. Each was more dreadful than the last. And worse, I had to wear one for my special day.

Groaning, I was pulled from my frustration by a knock at the door.

“My lady,” came the butler’s voice.

I gestured for one of the maids to open it.

“Lady Victoria, Duke Graham has arrived.”

I glanced over my shoulder just as the infamous duke entered. My eyes flickered over his imposing figure before I could stop myself. He carried an air of effortless authority, his presence filling the room.

“Victoria,” he greeted smoothly.

My gaze lingered on his suit, crisp white and deep blue colors that only heightened the brilliance of his eyes and the sharp lines of his face.

“Hi,” I murmured, quickly redirecting my attention to the rack of dresses.

“Is something troubling you?” he asked, his voice even, as he came to stand behind me.

I hummed in vague response, continuing to sift through the dresses.

Matching his attire would have been ideal, but nothing here came close.

“Victoria?” His voice brushed against my ear, softer, closer, startling me.

“I don’t like these dresses,” I admitted quickly. “Forgive me, I’m making us late.”

I stepped aside, eyeing another selection brought by the maids, but nothing eased my irritation.

Today we were meeting my father to reveal our plans for marriage, and the thought left me on edge. I knew Father would question my sudden haste. I needed his approval, but even if he refused, I would marry the duke regardless.

Because this wasn’t just a marriage. This was the first step in my revenge.

I pressed my nail between my teeth, fighting the suffocating memories that clawed at me, the flashes of my death. Each time they returned, it felt like drowning.

“Here,” Duke Graham’s voice cut through my storm.

I turned to find him holding a gown before me; a long royal-blue dress with elegant ruffles.

“Oh…” I breathed, awestruck. Where had he found it?

“Help Lady Victoria change,” he instructed the maids before glancing back at me with the faintest smile. “I’ll wait outside.”

Once dressed, hair styled, and jewels fastened, I stepped from behind the divider. His piercing blue eyes locked onto me instantly, and his gaze was so intense I had to look away.

“Perfect,” he whispered, stepping closer.

I forced a small smile, wrapping my arms around myself.

“That color suits you.”

My eyes widened, surprised. Compliments weren’t something I expected from him.

He quickly cleared his throat, averting his gaze as though regretting the slip.

“Shall we?” I said, clutching my small purse and walking past him.

He followed silently, though I could feel his stare on me, heavy and constant. It unsettled me, yet at the same time, the dress he had chosen fit me perfectly, simple, elegant, flattering. Even worse, we now looked as though we matched. The thought alone made me flush.

“Allow me, my lady,” he offered, extending his hand as I climbed into the carriage.

I hesitated, then placed my hand in his.

“You’ve been quiet,” he remarked once we settled inside.

“I know,” I whispered.

My mind was too full. Father’s approval, the risk of exposure, and this man beside me who made me nervous in ways I refused to acknowledge.

Everyone in the capital knew who he was. And yet here I was, bound by a contract with him, willingly.

“Tell me,” I asked, unable to resist, “why did you offer me that contract in the first place?”

His eyes flicked toward me, then away.

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “And call me Alexander.”

“That isn’t an answer,” I retorted, annoyed.

“I have my reasons,” he replied simply, his gaze shifting back to the passing scenery.

I frowned, his evasiveness stifling. But I needed him whether I liked it or not.

“You haven’t shared much about your plans,” he said, his voice dragging me back.

“Neither have you… Duke Graham.”

“Alexander,” he corrected with a smirk, locking his eyes onto mine.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“My name is Alexander. Call me that.”

I blinked before letting out a short laugh.

“We aren’t that close,” I said, fiddling with my rings.

“You are to be my fiancée and my wife,” he countered firmly. “Names are the least we should share, Victoria.”

His Stoic expression left little room for argument. 4

He was not a man known for patience, nor was I willing to yield easily. I was no longer naïve. I would fight, scheme, and endure to take my revenge, even if it meant playing by his rules for now.

I turned away from his gaze, resting my head on my hand as I stared out the window. Alexander said nothing more, and silence carried us the rest of the way.

***

We finally arrived at the restaurant. My gaze lingered on the tall building as I inhaled deeply.

“You seem nervous,” Alexander remarked.

“I’m not!” I snapped, groaning in annoyance.

A faint, smug smile tugged at his lips. Saints above, he was really testing my patience.

“Shall we? The duke must be waiting,” he said lightly, offering his arm. I forced the most natural smile I could manage and took it.

“So, you truly want to marry?” my father asked for what felt like the eighth time as we sat at the table, already overloaded with far too much food.

“Yes,” I said again, this time with a strained smile.

He didn’t believe me. His piercing stare made my throat tighten, and I fought the urge to cry.

“Duke Graham,” my father sighed, “forgive me, but I can’t trust you. My daughter is not some piece to be bargained for. I will not hand her to a man like you.”

Shock struck me.

Did he really think Alexander was forcing me? Was that why he kept rejecting this?

“You’re not the right choice for my daughter,” my father continued firmly. “Forgive me, Victoria, but I cannot accept this.”

He stood as though to leave. I made to rise as well, but Alexander’s firm grip held me in place, guiding me back into my seat.

I shot him a questioning glance, but he didn’t look my way. His sharp eyes were locked onto my father.

“It’s fine,” Alexander murmured softly, squeezing my hand in reassurance.

“Father!” I protested, refusing to sit idly by while Alexander shouldered everything. This was my idea, my plan—I would see it through.

Before I could push further, Alexander slid an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. My cheeks burned at the intimate gesture.

My father paused, glancing back at me. My chest tightened as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

I tried to blink them away, but the memories of betrayal and death clawed up, and anger spilled over with grief.

“Victoria…” My father sighed, stepping forward.

He clasped my hand and drew me into his chest. I let myself crumble against him, muffling sobs into his shoulder.

I had just cried in front of both Alexander and my father. Wonderful.

“May I have some time alone with my daughter?” my father asked.

Alexander’s silence answered for him. His steady footsteps faded, followed by the soft thud of the door shutting behind us.

“Look at me, my dear,” my father said gently, cupping my face until I had no choice but to meet his eyes.

I sniffled.

“Is he threatening you?”

“What? No!” I jerked back, shaking my head. “Alexander isn’t doing anything like that.”

If only he knew the truth.

“Alexander,” my father repeated slowly, the name tasting foreign on his tongue.

“Yes,” I whispered, cheeks warming. “And I’m serious about him. Why can’t you just believe me?”

“I believe you,” he murmured, a sad smile curving his lips.

Relief washed through me, until he added, “But I don’t believe him. I know what kind of man he is. And men like him… they hurt.” His eyes hardened. “He will hurt you.”

The weight of his words made my stomach twist. For a moment, I wondered if he was right.

“Alexander Graham is cold-hearted, Victoria. He’s toying with you. I won’t stand by and watch him destroy my jewels. Not while I live.”

There it was—his refusal.

“I would agree with anything else, but not this.”

I clenched my fists under the table. He still saw me as weak. Fragile. Breakable. If only he knew I wasn’t the same girl anymore.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” I said, raising my chin, “but I want to marry him.”

My voice didn’t waver.

This was my choice, and my only path to revenge. Alexander was the one man with enough power to help me.

My father’s eyes bored into mine, searching for cracks.

“It’s rushed, I admit,” I continued. “And maybe it doesn’t make sense for someone like him to care for someone like me. But I believe him. And I will marry him, with or without your blessing.”

“Victoria!” His voice thundered, shaking the air.

“No, Father,” I snapped back, though my voice trembled. “This is what I want. And if I fail, let it be my mistake. Haven’t you ever thought… Maybe I need to learn by failing?”

The silence that followed stretched, heavy and suffocating. At last, my father exhaled, rubbing his temples.

“Fine,” he said at last. “But under two conditions.”

“Anything,” I said quickly, hope sparking.

“First, you will have a proper wedding. Big. No small ceremonies.”

I groaned but nodded.

“Second, the duke will sign a contract.”

My blood froze.

“What?”

A marriage contract was one thing, but that kind of contract? The kind that bound him legally, making divorce nearly impossible?

“I don’t understand,” I said, my voice rising.

“He signs it, or there will be no wedding,” my father hissed. His jaw was iron. “It’s for your protection.”

Panic coiled inside me. Alexander would never accept this. Yet, when I thought of my father’s stubbornness, I knew there was no way around it.

“Fine,” I muttered. “But don’t expect him to agree.”

“He will,” my father said flatly, grabbing his coat.

He kissed the top of my head before leaving me simmering in frustration.

Moments later, Alexander returned. His expression is unreadable as always.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“I heard everything,” he said simply. “And it’s fine.”

“You… agree?” I asked, blinking.

“What choice do we have? Your father loves you. I respect that,” he replied, gathering our things.

Baffled, I stared. Alexander Graham, the cold duke, wasn’t angry? He almost seemed… understanding.

“Now,” he said smoothly, extending his hand. “Shall we have lunch?”

I glanced at his gloved fingers, spotless and perfect. My stomach growled at the worst possible moment.

Heat rushed to my face as I cursed under my breath.

Alexander chuckled. “Now that is music.”

He pulled me along, and I blinked at him. Was he smiling more than usual? Or was I just imagining it?