Chapter 6 Ice cold

"Hi, Lucien," Aria smiled as she walked past Liana, her hands stretched for an handshake. Lucien's hands remained in his pocket of his razor iron black pants as he stared at her, without an emotion in his dark eyes.

She chuckled awkwardly and pulled her hand back, brushing her straight hair brown hair behind her ear. Then, her eyes moved towards the stairs where Dahlia was still standing,

"Dahlia. Oh my God," she called out and dropped her bag on the chair as she walked towards her, "I didn't expect to meet you here."

Dahlia smiled lightly, her right hand holding the chair by the arm. "Me either," she said.

"Who's she?" This was the first question Eric asked since he came into the house as his eerily black eyes sticked on Dahlia like glue. If Dahlia didn't know better, she'd think Eric was actually Lucien's father cos he looked young for his age and it seemed Lucien took his sharp features.

"Do you work here now as a maid?" Aria asked, almost naturally, like she didn't know Dahlia was from a family that did well. They literally had a company.

"I'm not here as a–"

"Dahlia does not work here as a maid," Lucien cut her off as he walked to the seat opposite his grandparents, "We signed out marriage papers last night."

The sentence pulled Eric's eyes away from Dahlia and back to Lucien. "You did what?"

"We are legally married," Lucien said blankly, emotionlessly.

Aria glanced at Lucien and back at Dahlia before walking to sit behind him. Dahlia walked down the remaining steps slowly and took her seat alone, on the last and largest cushion chair.

"What do you mean you guys are married?" Aria asked with a quiet, calm, voice, "Didn't Dahlia just get released from prison about two days ago?"

"You were a prisoner?" Eric couldn't believe his ears as he stared right back at her. She bit her lips, feeling his eyes bore holes into her skin.

"It's not what you think–"

"You don't know what I think," Eric cut her off, "I'm giving you thirty minutes to pack your things and get out of this house. Lucien will be sending you a divorce papers."

"This is my house and I choose who stays in it," Lucien said calmly. He didn't shout. Infact, none of them were shouting. Not Eric, not Aria, not Lucien.

They seemed to be from the same category, a category of power that showed itself without struggle. You just knew they were 'it' the moment they entered into the room. Dahlia wasn't like that, she'd always had to work hard to be known, to be listened to, to be trusted. The only person who'd ever tried to help without her lifting a finger...was Lucien and even if it came at a price, she was grateful for it. Grateful for a chance to be listened to without having to beg first.

"Lucien, marriage is not something to be taken so lightly," Liana spoke with exuberance, the kind of woman who wielded power. Dahlia was the only person with flat energy in the room. She silently and quietly used her nails on her other hand, making tiny crescents from fear. She should have known they wouldn't like her. She should have known things weren't going to be easy. No one ever loved her purely, no one ever wanted her. It was like a curse and it would follow her wherever she goes. The crescents on her skin multiplied with each passing second, just as her heartbeat increased. Thud. Thud.

"You can't just pick a girl from the streets and decide to marry her," Liana added.

Lucien's jaw ticked as he stared at his Liana, "Nonna, she is not a girl from the streets, she has a name."

(Nonna - grandmother.)

"We don't care. You don't marry without our knowledge and you don't marry a girl we don't want. She leaves this house–right now." Eric said harshly.

"I'll leave," Dahlia said quietly as she suddenly stood up and everyone looked at her, including Lucien. His dark eyes even seemed to darken more as they twitched–dangerously. A storm seemed to brood in them. "You have a fiancee, it doesn't seem right for me to stay,"

"Aww, Dahlia," Aria called sweetly, her tone filled with innocence as she tilted her head, "You know you don't have to leave....right?"

"No, I'm...I'm the one who caused all of this. I'm....I'm sorry," Dahlia breathed out as she turned towards the door. She had no luggage anyways, it wasn't like she brought anything here. She was even glad to he leaving with clean clothes and looking a little bit...human, in Lucien's terms. Her hands touched the door knob and she twisted it,

"Stop."

The word cracked the room, breaking the quiet ice that started to grow after she said she'd leave.

Lucien's voice was deep, dark, almost angry but not...yet. It was laced with command and a silent threat. Her hands froze on the door knob, her heart kicking in her chest.

"Walk through that door," Lucien said, each word with deliberate preciseness, "and I will make sure my guards drag you back in here, kicking or not. In front of everyone."

A chill went over the room.

"You think you can just walk out after our agreement last night?" His voice dropped to something crueler, darker. "You are mine, Dahlia. You don't just leave because someone else says so. You leave when I say you can. And I haven't."