Chapter 4 A wife by leverage

He didn't look away even when I hid by covering my body with the curtain.

Lucian Vale was still standing in the garden. But his posture changed just slightly as soon as he noticed I wasn't visible anymore.

"He hadn't even stepped inside yet, and the temperature of the room was this cold? What would happen if he came in"? I asked myself.

I moved away from the window curtain where I was hiding and sat on the single couch close to the bed. My hands were placed on my lap. I didn't know what I was expecting when I saw him. Maybe someone older. Maybe someone colder. But what I saw... was worse.

Lucian wasn't just intimidating; he was unreadable. And his unreadability was what made him dangerous.

Just one knock at the door snapped me out of my thoughts.

Elara entered without waiting for permission. "Mr. Vale will see you now. Follow me."

Without hesitation, I followed. She took me through a part that was made of glass and polished floors. We walked until we reached a private study room. Then she stopped, and I did too. The place looked nothing like I expected. There were no family photos on the walls, no books out of place. Just sleek furniture, dim lighting, and a single decanter holding whiskey on a side table.

Lucian was backing us. Standing facing the window with one hand in his pocket and the other holding his phone.

He didn't turn when we walked in.

"Elara," he said, his voice low and calm. "Give us the room."

"Yes, Mr. Vale."

She quietly moved out and shut the door.

Then Silence.

Lucian finally turned.

Without the sunglasses, his eyes were dark and stormy but cool. They were deliberate and disturbingly calm. He scanned me like I was something expensive on display for sale. Not beautiful. Not desirable. Just acquired.

"Seraphina Cole," he said, as if tasting my name.

I kept mute. I needed not to respond.

Then suddenly, he gestured for me to the chair across from his desk. "Sit."

I remained standing.

His mouth curved, just barely. "Defiant already. That's charming."

"I didn't come here to be charmed," I said.

"No," he agreed. "You came because you were told to."

I stared at him. "Why me?"

"Why not you?" he responded almost immediately.

"That's not an answer," he continued.

He walked to the desk and leaned against it, arms folded. "I hope by now, you must have learnt that your father owed a debt. And your name bought him silence. Your face bought him favor, your compliance keeps your family name from being dragged through headlines and lawsuits."

"You talk like I'm some kind of asset."

"You are."

I blinked.

No apology. No hesitation.

"I never agreed to this," I said quietly.

"That doesn't matter anymore," he said. "Your signature won't be needed until after the wedding. And I don't need a wife who consents. Just one who cooperates."

The words landed like a slap.

"Then why even meet me?" I asked.

"Because this is the part where I make it clearer to you," he said and stepped closer to me, closing up the space between us.

"You're not here to be loved, you're not here to be courted. You're here to be useful. You play your role, I play mine. We both get what we need."

"And what exactly do you need from me?" I asked, my voice a notch above a whisper.

His eyes flicked to mine, sharp and precise. "Obedience. Silence. And the appearance of a wife who knows her place."

I didn't flinch. Not outwardly.

But something inside me cracked.

"You could've chosen anyone," I said. "Why me"?

Lucian didn't blink. "Because marrying you benefits me. And ruining you... benefits me more."

There it was.

Not just indifference but Intent.

I took a step back. "What did I ever do to you?"

He looked almost bored now. "It's not what you did. It's what your family costs mine. This isn't about love or hate, Seraphina. It's about leverage."

He walked past me and opened the study door. "You'll have breakfast with my father tomorrow morning. Wear something understated. Don't speak unless addressed. And do not embarrass me."

I didn't move.

"Do you understand?" he asked.

I swallowed the little saliva remaining in my mouth before responding. "Yes."

"That sounds nice. Don't worry you'll get through this faster if you learn not to care and stick to what you are here for."

He shut the door behind me before I could spill out another word.

I didn't go back to my room immediately. Instead, I wandered the walkway. Numb, furious and exhausted all at once.

His words I could still hear clearly in my ear: "You're not here to be loved."

I should've expected it earlier and prepared my mind for it; at least it wouldn't hurt much. But now I heard it from his mouth with such a calm surgical tone, I am not the same anymore.

I wasn't a person to him. I was a strategy, a punishment. A possession.

And the worst part? He didn't even care enough to hate me properly. I was a tool. Disposable.

I got lost in thought to the extent of not remembering when I got outside barefoot, walking along the cold stone pathway behind the mansion. The wind blew cold on my skin. I welcomed it. Did I even care? After all, it reminded me that I was still alive, still breathing. Still mine if only I were given another chance.

A voice interrupted my thoughts.

"You shouldn't wander alone."

I turned sharply. And discovered that it wasn't Lucian. It was someone else.

Younger. Golden-skinned. Brown hair neatly arranged backwards, shirt collar slightly unbuckled. He leaned against a marble column like someone posing to take a picture.

"I'm Dante," he said with a smile on his face. "Lucian's cousin". He continued. And you must be the new Vale trophy."

I didn't answer.

"Don't worry. We're all actors here. Some of us just happen to be better at pretending than others."

I took a step back.

He raised his hands. "Hey. I'm not here to bite. Just curious. You're different from the last one."

"The last one?" I asked warily.

He chuckled. "The ex. Juliet? Pretty. Cold. And very good at playing the long game. But you... You've got fire. I can see it. Wonder how long you'll last before Lucian snuffs it out."

I turned to leave, not paying attention to what he had said. But his next words made me freeze.

"If you ever want to be out," he said, voice dropping low, "then you'll find me."

I still pretended not to pay attention to what he had said. And returned to my room. I felt so weak and tired.

So I decided to take a glance at what was in the closet, and when I opened its door, I found dozens of new dresses neatly hanging. All my sizes. All tagged with luxury labels.

Now I knew they'd planned this long before the engagement was announced, and my parents never bothered to let me know.

I reached for the plainest one. A dark gray sleeveless shirt, wear it and sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the floor blankly.

Dinner with the Vale patriarch tomorrow.

Juliet's name lingered in the air like perfume.

A cousin who offered me an escape with a smile.

And a fiancé who promised to ruin me.

My phone buzzed in my hand.

It was a blocked number.

I opened the message and read through it.

It said: Tomorrow, 7:00 am. Formal dining room. Do not be late. And do not wear white. That was hers.