Chapter 26 A forced rejection
A forced rejection
Olivia's POV
Tristan came to my parents house like he owned the road, the sky, and every breath that dare exist around him.
The black car rolled in, sleek and polished, a silent announcement of his wealth and arrogance. I was at the window with arms crossed and jaw tight, watching him step out as if this was a business meeting and not a forced visit to the home of the woman he was dragging to the altar.
"Your beloved is here," my mother said behind me softly, hopeful in that quiet, dangerous way parents get when they think love can fix everything.
I didn't turn around. "He's not my beloved."
The knock came a few moments later - firm and impatient. Of course. Tristan never waited for a permission.
As my father opened the door, Tristan's voice filled the house, smooth and confident. "Thank you for having me."
I turned then and met his gaze across the room. He was dressed in a dark suit, his eyes were sharp, and that familiar, infuriating calm was on his face as if nothing in the world could throw him off balance, as if he didn't have my life, in pieces.
"Olivia," he said, with a slight curve to his lips. "You look… unchanged."
I despised that my heart responded before my mind closed it down.
"Don't flatter yourself," I coldly said in reply. "I didn't dress for you."
My mother cleared her throat in a nervous manner. "Please, sit. Tea?"
"Yes," Tristan said, and was already moving toward the couch. "That would be lovely."
He sat like a king demanding a throne, one ankle over his knee. My father looked at him with suspicion, but with courtesy.
"So," my father began, "you said you wanted to know about Olivia better."
Tristan glanced at me. "I do. We're getting married. It would be irresponsible not to."
I scoffed. "You have made it sound like a merger."
He didn't deny it. "Marriage is a contract, Olivia." Emotions don't negate that."
My mother frowned. "Marriage is a more than a contract."
"Sometimes," Tristan said in a very calm voice. "But time doesn't permit for romance."
"And whose fault is that?" I snapped. "You set the date. You rushed everything. You didn't even ask if I…"
"You said yes," he cut in sharply, eyes growing cold. "You signed."
I felt my hands curl up into fists. "Under pressure."
He leaned forward slightly; voice low and patronizing. "Pressure reveals character. You didn't walk away."
My father's jaw tightened. "Watch your tone, son."
Tristan straightened up without a care in the world. "Forgive me if it sounds rude to be honest. But the wedding will proceed."
My mother looked between us anxiously. "Olivia… is that what you want?"
I laughed, short and bitter. "Does it matter what I want?"
Tristan's eyes were fixed upon me. "It does. But wanting something doesn't change it from necessity."
I rose from my seat, unable to sit there one more second. "You're unbelievable. You come into my parents' house acting like this is about love, when you couldn't care less about being in control."
He rose too, towering over me. "I care about outcomes. The wedding is in three weeks. The countdown has begun."
"Then count without me," I said. "Because I hate you."
Silence fell.
For the shortest moment, something flashed in his eyes, perhaps anger, perhaps irritation, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
Having hate is acceptable, he said coolly. "As long as you show up."
I looked away before he could see how close I was to breaking.
The minute lunch was over, I stood up from the table.
I could still feel Tristan's presence behind me - heavy and imposing as if the very air bent to his will. Alphas do that. They remind you of their power without touching you. I walked into the garden, spine straight and heart pounding. I pretended to be calm and all inside shook.
The garden was quiet but I knew that I wasn't alone.
“Stop walking,” Tristan said.
His voice was authoritative, sharp, unquestionable. I slowed, then stopped. I turned to face him, bracing myself.
“You don’t give me orders,” I said.
His jaw tightened. He got closer until I could feel his heat and his dominance on my skin. His eyes were cold, calculating, the look of an Alpha that was used to obedience.
"You forget yourself far too often," he said.
I folded my arms together, keeping myself together. he replied. “This is about Ryder.”
My heart dropped fast. I hated that he noticed. I hated that he always did.
"I told you before," I said keeping my voice steady. "Whatever problem you have with him is your problem, not mine."
"Which is where you are wrong," Tristan said. "Anything associated with you is mine."
The words twisted my stomach. “I’m not property.”
"You're my betrothed," he said flat and dangerous. "And you're turning into a liability."
I laughed bitterly. Because I didn't bow my head fast enough for you?"
"Because you let hope exist where there shouldn't be any hope," he snapped. “People are watching. Whispers are spreading. That ends today.”
I took a step back. “What are you saying?”
His eyes darkened. “You will publicly reject him. Evidently, without the space for misunderstanding."
I stepped back, shaking my head. “You are asking me to destroy something good just to make yourself feel secure.”
“I am asking you to prove you belong to me,” Tristan said. “And if you refuse, you will create consequences you will not enjoy.”
My heart pounded against my ribs. “Is that a threat?”
“It is a fact,” he replied. “Situations escalate when left unchecked.”
I looked at him, really looked at him, at the cold certainty in his eyes, and felt a deep sadness settle in my chest. “You don’t care who gets hurt as long as you win.”
"Reject him publicly." he said, his tone cold and deadly.