Chapter 6 Chapter 6

Valentina

I was still pissed and that was valid considering how my life had been moving right from the moment I took the vow and married Ambrose. If I only had to deal with him, it would have been easy enough. But dealing with his son too? That wasn't something I ever saw coming.

I wonder if anyone had ever told Lucian how rude and arrogant he was. Probably not, because everyone around here acted like he was some untouchable god they had to bow to. I wanted to tell him off last night when I ran into him at the door of his father's study. The way his eyes were undressing me still made my skin heat up in irritation or something dangerously close to it.

I couldn't read minds, but I knew what it meant when a man looked at a woman like that. And that was exactly what he did. His stare wasn't curious or polite it was sharp, slow, and deliberate. The kind that makes you forget where to breathe for a second. And the worst part? My stupid body somehow reacted to it. Just a little.

I blamed it on the pajamas I was wearing. The tight, silky white thing that clung to every inch of my skin. I should've burned it the moment I saw it, but I didn't. My mother must've packed my sisters' clothes by mistake. They always liked wearing things that screamed look at me, while I preferred comfort.

I wanted to take it off and change into something less revealing, but that was when Ambrose called me to his office. I didn't want to get on his nerves again. The last time I came down for breakfast a few minutes late, he looked like he was about to lecture me for an hour.

So I went.

And surprisingly, Ambrose didn't stare at me the way his son did. His gaze was heavy, but not lustful more like he was measuring me for a role I didn't ask for. He told me to get ready to start work the following day, leaving no room for argument. Then, to make matters worse, he handed me a stack of papers and asked me to take them to his room.

That was when it hit me.

The men in this family had something in common rudeness.

Every single one of them.

Ambrose with his cold commands, Lucian with his silent arrogance, his twin brothers who barely acknowledged my presence, and Mira with her constant smirk and mockery. All of them treated me like I was invisible.

I walked to the wardrobe and opened it, letting out a quiet sigh as I scanned through the neatly arranged clothes. My fingers trailed over the fabrics silk, cotton, chiffon things that screamed wealth and perfection. I pulled out a simple cream blouse and a pencil skirt. It looked professional enough for work, and most importantly, it didn't feel too tight or revealing like most of what my mother had packed.

I quickly changed into the outfit, straightened the hem, and brushed my hair out of my face. The reflection staring back at me in the mirror looked composed, but I knew the truth. Inside, I was a mess caught between two men who couldn't be more different, yet somehow both made my life complicated.

I grabbed my phone and sat at the edge of the bed before calling Violeta. She picked up immediately.

"Valentina!" her bright, warm voice filled the room.

I chose to call Violeta because despite the rules we lived by in the family, she still tries her best to cheer up.

"Oh my God, how are you living there? I'm so sorry you have to go through all that."

A small smile tugged at my lips. "I'm surviving, Violeta. One day at a time."

She sighed, a soft sound that carried her frustration. "You won't believe what Father's trying to do now. He wants to change our school because he saw me talking to one of the boys in the hallway yesterday. Can you imagine? I was just asking him for a pen, and suddenly I'm being 'disrespectful.'"

I could picture her pacing in her room, hair loose and wild, eyes flashing with rebellion. "Violeta..." I murmured softly. "You know how he is. He's always been strict."

Despite father's strictness if Violeta wants to do things her way she'd. I think if she was the one in my shoes, she wouldn't have agreed to this marriage no matter what. Violeta is as stubborn as father himself. Meanwhile, I and Viviana are the daughters that obeyed everything without question.

"He's controlling, Val. It's like he doesn't want us to breathe. He treats us like we're little girls locked in a cage."

I wanted to tell her I understood. That my life wasn't any freer than hers. That even here, in this mansion with marble floors and glass chandeliers, I felt caged too. But I swallowed the words. She didn't need more weight on her shoulders.

"Where's Viviana?" I asked instead, changing the topic gently.

Violeta groaned. "Where else? In the library. Reading. As always."

That made me smile. "Tell her I said hi, okay?"

"I will," she replied, her voice softening. "And, Val... take care of yourself. Please."

Before I could respond, a knock sounded at my door. I straightened instantly. "I'll talk to you later, Violeta. Send my regards to Viviana." I didn't bother mentioning my mother it was pointless. She had made her silence loud enough.

I ended the call and went to the door, opening it to find one of the maids standing stiffly. Her eyes were downcast. "Ma'am, Mr. Ambrose requests your presence downstairs."

Even the maids spoke like they were forced to. None of them ever smiled or met my gaze. "Thank you," I said softly, though she was already walking away.

I sighed, grabbed my bag, and closed the door behind me. Well, I might as well do as Ambrose said. After all, my father had wanted me gone, out of his sight and here I was, living in another man's world, pretending it was fine.

When I reached the dining room, the soft clatter of silverware met my ears. Breakfast was already in full swing. The twins were there whose names I still didn't know and honestly didn't care to learn chatting quietly between themselves. Mira sat with her eyes glued to her phone, her fingers tapping rapidly on the screen as usual.

And then there was Lucian. He was seated at the far end of the table, his expression unreadable as he cut through his food. I hadn't seen him at the table before; he was always out or locked in his room, keeping to himself like he was above everyone else. So why was he here today?

Did he show up just to stare at me again?

As if my thoughts summoned him, his eyes lifted from his plate and landed squarely on me. The same dark gaze that had stripped me bare last night now burned into me again and I could feel the heat of it, low in my chest.

I walked to the table and took the empty seat beside Ambrose, my movements careful, almost too composed. "Good morning," I said softly, my voice polite but distant. I didn't care if he replied or not it was a formality that came with being his wife.

Ambrose gave a slight nod without looking at me, his attention fixed on the newspaper in his hand. That was when I felt Lucian's eyes, still heavy on me. I didn't dare look his way, but I could feel the weight of his stare pressing against my skin. When I finally turned my head, his gaze flickered away, as if he hadn't just been watching me.

A maid came forward and quietly served my food, setting the plate neatly before me before stepping back. The room was silent. Everyone seemed focused on their meal, but the air felt thick, like something was bound to happen.

And then it did.

"Lucian," Ambrose's voice broke the silence. "You'll be picking Valentina from the office for the time being until the driver returns back from his vacation."

My head snapped toward him, disbelief flashing in my eyes. "Excuse me?" I almost said it aloud, but I managed to hold it in.

What was he talking about? Why couldn't I go home with him in his car? What was the point of this marriage if he was too ashamed to be seen with me in public?

I waited for Lucian to reject the idea because of course he would. The man could barely stand to look at me. But to my utter shock, he didn't even raise an eyebrow.

He simply nodded, eyes still on his plate. "Alright."

No hesitation. No complaint. Just that one word. And somehow, that single, effortless response made my stomach twist.

Ambrose pushed his chair back with that familiar authority, the one that made everyone at the table go silent instantly. He stood, folding his newspaper. "Meet me in the car," he said flatly before walking off.

As if his departure had broken an invisible spell, the twins immediately got up from their seats. They didn't say a word, just exchanged brief glances before disappearing down the hallway. Sometimes I wondered if they even breathed when their father was around.

Mira stood next, still holding her phone. "Lucian, let me get my bag. You'll drop me off at the mall, please?"

Lucian only gave a noncommittal nod, not even looking up. Mira rolled her eyes and walked away, her perfume trailing behind her like a fading echo.

And then it was just the two of us.

The silence stretched thin. I could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock by the wall and the clinking of Lucian's fork as he lazily dragged it across his plate. He wasn't even eating just tracing invisible circles into the remains of his food.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. The weight of being ignored pressed on my chest until it burned. "Why didn't you turn down the offer?" I finally asked.

His hand stilled mid-motion, fork hanging loosely between his fingers. Slowly, his gaze lifted to meet mine. The look in his eyes was sharp, unreadable like a blade glinting under dim light.

"For what reason?" he said at last, his tone calm but cold. "It's just a drive. Don't flatter yourself thinking I cared enough to refuse."

His words landed like a slap. For a second I tasted bile, the anger hot and ugly in my chest.

"It's not 'just a drive. It's the point. If you won't refuse to be seen with me, then what does that make me? A thing you hide when it's convenient? A problem you pass off to the driver?"

I pushed my plate away as if the food had become poison. "I didn't sign up to be invisible, Lucian. I didn't say yes so I could be shuffled around like some possession. If you think I'm going to pretend that doesn't matter, you're wrong."

I could see the flicker annoyance, maybe amusement but I kept going, because whatever he felt didn't change what had been done.

"You could have said no," I added, leaning forward just enough that my chair creaked. "You could have made one small gesture. But you chose to nod. You chose to make it easy for him. Don't tell me it's 'just a drive' when your choices speak louder than words."