Chapter 6

Ophelia's POV

Sitting down in the lavishly furnished living room of Dominic Blackwood's home I couldn't help but recall my conversation with him at the hospital two days ago.

"Let’s discuss our CONTRACT marriage, shall we?" He had said.

"Contract marriage?" I asked, my brows furrowed in confusion.

"You see, Miss–"

"Ophelia, my name is Ophelia," I corrected. "Aren't you supposed to be in a coma?" I asked, even though I know I sound stupid right now. He was standing in front of me, that's all the answers I should need.

"Yes, but it's complicated," he replied. "And I'm not here to discuss the complicatedness with you," he continued. 

I just stared at him, not knowing what to make of all this.

"I'm fully aware of the financial situation of both you and your family," he continued. "I'll give you twice the amount my mother is offering as dowry to your parents, but I'll need you to do one thing for me."

"And what's that?" I asked, dreading what he might say next.

"Keep quiet about knowing that I'm pretending to be in a coma," he stated, his face void of any form of emotions. "As my wife, you're to convince both mother and family members beyond reasonable doubts that I'm still bedridden," he paused, and his face turned serious. "Having kids like my mother wishes, is completely out of the question."

"So, you want me to lie for you and then play house without any of the responsibilities?"

"That's a much simpler way to put it," he said.

"Okay," I muttered.

"You look deep in thoughts," he said.

I sighed. "Yes. Just trying to make sense of everything," I replied. "Your reason for lying, should I be worried?"

"What do you mean?" He asked with creased brows.

"Are there people after you I should be worried about?"

"Of course not," he replied, but I didn't believe a word he just said.

Listening to Dominic speak two days back, I couldn't help but feel we're more alike in more ways than one.  He needed help for whatever his reasons were, and I was in dire need of money. Even though growing up I never imagined to get married this way, with no wedding, no blessings from family and friends, the thought of how my life is playing entirely different from how I envisioned it to be was quite saddening.

"Ophelia dear," a soft refined voice called out to me, snapping me out of my train of thoughts. 

I looked in the direction of the voice to see an elderly woman, who was elegantly dressed and had a bright smile on her lips walking towards me. She looked awfully familiar as she walked towards me, but I couldn't tell where I had seen her.

"Uhmm– good afternoon," I muttered, unsure of who she was.

"I'm Eleanor, Dominic's mother," she said, the smile on her lips widening.  

Then it suddenly clicked, she was the old lady Hudson's mother was talking with at Hudson's engagement party. How is this even possible? This is too much of a coincidence that the same people who offered to help clear my family's debt also know the Wright's.

"Is everything okay dear?" Madame Eleanor's voice pulled me out of my thoughts, as she touched my shoulder.

"Yes ma'am," I mumbled, bowing slightly. "Good afternoon, Madame Eleanor."

She chuckled. "Oh, don't be silly," she held me up.  "And please, just Eleanor is fine," she said, and wrapped her arms around me. "You're even more pretty than in your pictures," she complimented.

"Thank you," I said softly.

"Sorry, for keeping you waiting," she apologised. "Traffic today was a nightmare," she explained. "Did the maids attend to you?" She asked, her voice laced with worry as she looked around the house.

"Yes they did, Mada… Eleanor," I corrected myself.

"Good, good," she said, nodding slightly. "Now let me give you a tour of the house while we discuss further."

I nodded in understanding and followed her as she led the way. As we walked through the house, I couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between our worlds. Every corner of the house screamed wealth and luxury, from the polished marble floors to the crystal chandeliers. They also had some high end pieces from renowned artists, as well as rare sculptures and antiques.

  

After telling me and showing me all the places she felt I should know about, we stopped in front of a door.

"This is you and Dominic's room," she informed me.

"Okay," I muttered.

"Ophelia, my dear," she held me on my shoulders, her tone turning serious.  "As you know, Dominic's condition requires special care," she continued. "I know it's a lot to ask, but you'll need to be by his side, and ensure he gets the necessary care and attention he needs."

"Yes, I understand," I nodded. "I'll do my absolute best."

"And as he's getting better, we can start thinking of expanding your family," she added.

Dominic's words about not having kids rang in my head.

"We need to focus on Dominic getting better first," I said, stylishly trying to change the topic. "That's my number one priority."

"Of course, dear," she said in agreement. "One step at a time."

"Thank you," I muttered.

"Alright dear, feel at home," she said, and walked away leaving me by myself in front of the door.

I opened the room, and the familiar smell of sandalwood and citrus wafted into my nose, reminding me of the time I bumped into Dominic just outside the venue of Hudson's engagement party. From the little I could tell about Dominic I could tell he was a very stylish man, and his room decor didn't state otherwise.

As I explored the room, my eyes landed on an innocuous drawer. Curiosity got the better of me, and I opened it. There was an old picture inside, and just when I was about getting a better look, the drawer was closed abruptly.

I turned around to see a perturbed Dominic standing beside me. 

"I– I'm sorry," I stammered an apology. I've never seen him look so serious and earnest. Even when he was telling me about our contract he didn't look so serious. "I didn't mean to pry, I was just–"

"Weren't you taught not to touch other people's things?" He asked coldly.