Chapter 4 Chapter 4

Valentina

We arrived at the company office in silence. The building was just as imposing as the estate, sleek and modern with towering glass windows that reflected the harsh light of the morning. Lucian barely glanced at me as he led the way, his stride purposeful. I followed, unsure of what to expect.

The receptionist didn't even look up from her desk as Lucian passed by. We stopped in front of a large, polished door. Lucian turned to face me, his eyes briefly meeting mine cold, unreadable.

"This is where I leave you,"

Before I could ask any questions, he turned and walked away without another word, leaving me standing in the doorway. I stood there for a moment, taking in the modern office with its furniture. Everything seemed so clinical.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside. The room smelled of fresh paper, coffee, and cold efficiency. There was a man sitting behind the desk, but he didn't look up as I entered. His posture was rigid, his fingers dancing over the keys of his computer with precision.

"You must be Mrs. Benedict," He started. "I'm Evans Luke, the general manager.  Mr. Ambrose has asked me to brief you on the meetings today. Have a seat."

I sat down, my fingers nervously curling around the edge of the chair. The man glanced at me then he handed me a folder filled with documents. I glanced at the papers, unsure of what they were for.

"Today, you'll be expected to make an appearance at a few key meetings," the man continued, his voice monotone. "Mr. Ambrose's associates are expecting you to be present."

For the next few hours, I found myself sitting in meeting after meeting, all while trying to remember how to smile politely and nod at the appropriate moments. The papers in front of me blurred together as I zoned out, my mind wandering back to my current reality a life I never chose, forced into a world where I wasn't wanted, where I was nothing more than a pawn to be used.

Finally, a break came, and I was able to step outside for a moment of peace. I hadn't realized how much I needed it until the fresh air hit me, the sun warm against my skin, providing a brief escape from the suffocating tension of the office.

I stood there for a few moments, breathing in deep, trying to gather my thoughts, when I heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Before I could turn around, a voice I recognized cut through the air.

"Well, well, if it isn't the new Mrs. Benedict."

I spun around to find Mira standing there, her smile wide and mischievous.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

"Oh, you know, business," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'll be heading back to the estate later. I heard my uncle's new wife is around so I figured I'd check in on my new favorite cousin-in-law."

Her gaze flicked over me, and for the briefest second, I saw something mocking in her eyes. It was gone just as quickly, replaced by her usual playful demeanor.

"You know, it's funny," she continued, stepping closer to me, "You look like a woman who's trapped. Like someone who doesn't know what they're walking into."

I straightened up, a surge of anger making my chest tighten. "I'm not trapped."

"Oh, no?" Mira's voice was soft, almost too sweet. "Then why are you here? Just another woman with a name tied to something you don't even know?"

Oh I know a lot. Like the reason why I married Ambrose Benedict. But I said nothing. I wasn't about to admit that to her.

Just as Mira was about to speak again, a man appeared from the door leading into the building's interior. He was dressed in a sharp suit, his face impassive, his demeanor businesslike.

"Miss Benedict," he said, his voice clipped, "Mr. Ambrose is done with his meeting. He's expecting you in his office."

Mira gave me a look, her smile still playful but now with a glimmer of something darker beneath it. "All the best, cousin-in-law," she said, her words dripping with meaning, before she turned on her heel and walked away with a sway in her step.

I watched her go, her presence unsettling in a way I couldn't explain. But I pushed it aside.

The man waiting for me gestured toward the door, and I nodded in response. We reached Ambrose's office, a large, imposing door with dark wood accents and a polished brass nameplate. The man knocked lightly, and after a brief moment, a voice from inside called out.

"Enter."

I stepped inside, my heart pounding in my chest. Ambrose was seated behind his desk, his posture regal, his expression serious. He didn't look up as I entered, but the brief flicker of his gaze as he glanced over me told me everything I needed to know. This was a man who controlled every room he walked into, who expected nothing less than complete obedience from those around him.

"Sit,"

I did as I was told, taking a seat across from him. The silence between us stretched, until Ambrose finally spoke again.

"I've already been briefed by my secretary on your activities today," he said, his tone neutral, yet there was something calculating in his eyes. "It seems you've handled yourself well in the meetings. I'm curious... What do you think about starting work in the company officially?"

I blinked, caught off guard by the question. "I—I don't have any passion in resigning my current job," I replied.

Ambrose's eyes narrowed just slightly, and there was an edge to his voice when he responded. "And you think I haven't discussed this with your father? That I haven't already planned for your role in all of this?"

The surprise hit me like a punch to the gut. My mouth went dry, and for a moment, I struggled to find words. My father had never mentioned anything about Ambrose taking such a step. The idea that they'd already discussed my future in the company behind my back, without even telling me... It felt like a betrayal, like I wasn't even in control of my own life anymore.

Before I could respond, Ambrose waved me off. "You can think on that for now. I'm sure you'll see reason soon enough."

I stood up quickly, eager to get out of the cold, suffocating office, and Ambrose didn't stop me.

Once outside his office, I pulled out my phone, my fingers trembling as I dialed my father's number. The call rang for a few seconds before he picked up, his voice gravelly on the other end.

"What is it now, Valentina?" he asked, sounding distracted.

"Father, I—I need to know. Did you replace me in the company? Have you already decided to take me out of the picture?" My voice wavered, and I hated how weak it sounded, but I couldn't hold it back.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and then my father spoke. "Valentina, you're Ambrose's wife now. You should stop calling me for meaningless talks like this. You have bigger things to focus on now."

His words stung like a slap to the face, the cold finality in his tone leaving no room for argument. Before I could say anything else, he hung up, leaving me standing there.

**

The main entrance doors opened before I could gather my thoughts, and I stepped out into the bright light of the day. My eyes were immediately drawn to the black car parked just outside, its surface reflecting the afternoon sun. Lucian was standing next to it, his posture as controlled and perfect as always.

Something bitter curled in my chest as I watched him, and for a moment, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was just another piece of his cold, calculated world. He moved toward the car and reached for the door handle, ready to open it for me.

I wasn't sure why, but a surge of frustration hit me, a need to assert myself. I wasn't his puppet. Not anyone's.

I stepped forward, stopping him with a sharp motion. As I did, my hand accidentally brushed against his. The moment our skin made contact, something electric shot through me, a pulse that left me momentarily breathless. I quickly pulled my hand back, trying to steady my nerves.

"You don't have to open the door for me like I'm some kind of puppet," I muttered, my voice cold and rougher than I intended.

Lucian didn't react right away, but I saw a flicker of something in his eyes maybe surprise, maybe something darker but before I could figure it out, I got inside the car and shut the door. I thought that was the end of it.

But no.

Lucian opened the door again, his eyes cool, his lips barely moving as he said, "Get out."

I frowned, my heart racing with confusion and annoyance. "Why?"

"Because I don't drive rude women who put on an innocent facade,"

His words sent a flash of irritation straight to my core. Rude? He was the one who had been nothing but rude to me since we met, never once offering a moment of kindness or even a hint of warmth. I was sick of it.

Before I could stop myself, I snapped, "You're the one who's been rude since the moment I met you."

But I didn't give him a chance to respond. I shoved open the car door, stepping out in a rush, slamming it shut behind me with a force that made the metal echo.

"Asshole," I muttered under my breath, my teeth gritted. I turned and walked away fueled by the anger that bubbled up from the pit of my stomach.