Chapter 3 Chapter 3
Valentina
The first thing that greeted me as I opened my eyes was silence. Not the comforting kind the hush that wraps around you like a warm blanket. No. This silence was cold. Heavy. The kind that settles into your bones and reminds you you're somewhere you don't belong.
The sheets beneath me were soft, too soft. The air smelled of lavender and old money. And the ceiling above me wasn't mine. It was painted ivory, high and distant, with a crystal chandelier that looked like it belonged in a palace.
I wasn't in my room. I wasn't in my house. I wasn't home. I was in the Benedict estate. Ambrose Benedict's wife.
The title made my stomach twist.
I sat up slowly, the silky fabric of the nightgown I changed into last night brushing against my skin. I rubbed my hands over my arms, trying to shake off the strange feeling crawling over my skin. The events of the night before played in my mind like a dream gone wrong. The dinner. The stares. The silence. Him.
Lucian.
I hated how clear his face was in my memory. How easily I could picture the way his eyes raked over me like he was trying not to look but couldn't help himself. And that final look before he shut the door in my face. Cold. Controlled. Dangerous.
I threw the covers off and stepped onto the floor, which was unsurprisingly cold, just like everything else in this house.
A soft knock at the door made me freeze. I walked over and opened it, just slightly.
A maid stood outside. "Mr. Ambrose asked that you join him for breakfast, ma'am."
Mr. Ambrose.
I nodded once. "Tell him I'll be down shortly."
She bowed slightly and left without another word.
I shut the door again and leaned against it. This was my life now.
A stranger's house. A stranger's bed. A stranger's name tied to mine.
And a stepson who looked at me like I was a problem he hadn't figured out how to get rid of yet.
After taking a shower, I slipped into the most neutral dress I could find in the wardrobe something simple, something that didn't invite attention and tied my hair back.
By the time I reached the dining room, the table was already set. But only one man sat at the head.
Ambrose Benedict.
He glanced up when I entered. His eyes trailed over me with mild interest, as if I were a new asset he had recently acquired and was still evaluating.
"You're late," he said, but his tone was flat. Not angry. Just... matter-of-fact.
I was taken aback by his tone. Just last night, he'd been... pleasant. Polished. Almost kind. His smiles polite, even if they didn't quite touch his eyes.
Now, he sounded like a man done pretending. Had he decided there was no need to keep up appearances anymore? Had the mask finally slipped?
"I was getting ready," I said, my voice calm, even though part of me wanted to ask what had changed. I wasn't stupid I knew better than to question a man like Ambrose Benedict, especially not on day one after our marriage.
He gave a slow nod, like my reason barely registered. Like it didn't matter.
"You'll find that punctuality is expected in this house," he said, not looking at me as he buttered his toast with surgical precision. "Especially when you're bearing my name."
His name. Not ours. The distinction wasn't lost on me.
I lowered my gaze, trying not to bristle. "I understand."
Silence followed. Heavy and cold. Breakfast was already laid out, the table perfectly set, but it all felt distant sterile, like a photo in a magazine. Everything in this house felt like that. Polished on the surface, empty underneath.
I forced myself to sit and pick at the food, Eggs, toast, fruit, coffee. All perfect. All too pristine.
He sipped from his cup. "You'll be meeting a few associates later. I expect you to smile and say as little as possible."
I looked up slowly. "Is that why you married me?"
"I'm sure your father explained things to you. He told me his daughter was smart enough to be of use in business."
My jaw tightened as I bit the inside of my cheek, hard unable to believe my father had said that. Did he really think that's all I was good for?
I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth and met his gaze. "Being part of my father's dealings was never my dream."
Ambrose's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't respond immediately. Instead, he let the silence linger as he finished his coffee. Then, finally, he spoke, his tone colder than before. "You're no longer under your father's roof, Valentina. You're my wife now. That means you obey your husband."
My hand tightened around the fork, but I said nothing.
Before the silence could stretch too long, the sound of soft footsteps broke through. A young woman entered the room, moving with casual confidence. She was dressed in a fitted black outfit, a ponytail bouncing as she walked.
She went straight to Ambrose, kissing him on the cheek.
"Good morning, Uncle."
Ambrose acknowledged her with a slight smile. "Mira. What's this? You're heading out this early?"
Mira barely spared me a glance as she took a seat, exhaling as she dropped her bag beside her. "Yeah, I'm going for hiking. I was going to go with Lucian, but the lazy ass wouldn't move his damn body off his chair. He's always working."
Ambrose chuckled softly. "He's doing it all for me. Will you blame him?"
Mira rolled her eyes dramatically. "Whatever. He's still the most pain-in-the-ass cousin I have."
I had noticed Mira last night, but I couldn't say I had really seen her. She'd been quiet during dinner, almost absent-minded, pushing her food around without much interest. But now, seeing her so carefree, I couldn't help but feel a little more unsettled.
"Take care, Mira. Make sure you don't find any trouble today."
Mira shot him a playful grin. "Come on, Uncle. I wouldn't want to stress you over cleaning up my mess."
Her eyes shifted to me, and I froze as she smiled, the expression almost too sweet. "See you later, wife."
The way she said it, with that mockingly sweet tone.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Ambrose turned his attention back to me "Lucian will bring you to the company later," he said, his voice dismissive. "I have things to do."
He stood, and I didn't respond, watching him leave the room with the same impassive expression. It seemed that his world was one of control and indifference.
I had gotten ready early, not because I was excited, but because I didn't want anyone to say I was the one causing delays. My outfit was modest, my makeup light, my hair pinned back neatly. I looked the part, even if I didn't feel it.
Still, something heavy sat on my chest. Not a single message from my mother. No calls. No missed texts. Not even a half-hearted check-in.
It was like I had been erased.
Maybe they told my sisters not to reach out either. My father had that kind of influence. I sighed and made a mental note to try calling them later though I doubted they'd pick up if he was watching.
I glanced at my phone again. I'd been waiting downstairs for over five minutes. Hopefully, Mr. Ambrose had informed Lucian I'd be going with him. The silence only made the wait feel longer.
A pair of identical twins passed by a moment ago, barely sparing me a glance. They waved briefly, then disappeared behind a door. I assumed they were Ambrose's children too. No names. No introductions. Just more strangers under the same roof.
No one here even acknowledged my existence. I was beginning to feel like wallpaper decorative, quiet, and utterly overlooked.
Just as I looked up from my phone, I saw him. Lucian. My breath hitched without warning.
He walked toward the door like I wasn't even there. No greeting. No glance. Not even a pause. Just straight past me like I was invisible.
I was stunned for a second. Was he going to ignore me completely?
I stood, forcing my legs to move even though part of me wanted to just sit back down and pretend I didn't care.
The moment I stepped outside, the sun greeted me with a sharp glare, but it was nothing compared to the cold I was met with a few feet away.
Lucian stood beside a sleek black car, the door already open like he'd been waiting. No words. No eye contact. Just silence and expectation.
I walked up to him slowly, refusing to rush. "You know," I said, pausing by the open door, "A simple 'let's go' wouldn't hurt."
"I don't have to say what you already know," he replied, voice flat, eyes fixed somewhere in the distance.
The nerve of him.
I slid into the car, jaw clenched, and stared ahead as he closed the door behind me. The moment he got in on his side and started the engine, I couldn't keep it in anymore. "Are you always this rude," I asked quietly, "Or do you just naturally hate my guts?"
"Hate takes effort," he said, his voice void of care. "And you're not worth the energy."
And just like that, my first morning as Valentina Benedict reminded me I'd stepped into a world where kindness didn't exist. Only survival.