Chapter 3: Crossing Lines

 

The days passed slowly, each one like a reminder of Olivia’s trembling situation. Victor's words haunted her thoughts, whenever she tried to push them away. She went through working her freelance jobs, visiting her father in the hospital, and painting late into the night, hoping that distraction would drive out the unease in her heart. But no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t escape the growing pressure.

Her father’s condition took a sudden turn to the worse, and the doctors were now recommending a high-risk surgery that would give him a fighting chance. But it came with an even higher price. Olivia listened to the doctor as he explained the situation, the numbers going through her eyes. It was more than she could ever hope to come up with on her own.

That night, as she lay on her bed, Olivia found herself reaching out for the letter she had thrown across the room few days ago. She looked it out, staring at the address Victor had provided. Her heart pounded as she it. Every fiber of her being wanted to reject this offer outright, but as the hours ticked by and the sense of helplessness grew even stronger and she began to wonder if she had any other choice.

The next morning, Olivia was standing outside the building in downtown. It was one of Victor’s properties, a luxurious house where he had arranged for them to meet. She hesitated, her fingers trembles as she pressed the button for the elevator. The ride up felt endless, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that once she stepped through those doors, there would be no turning back.

When she finally reached the top floor, the elevator doors open, revealing a spacious, elegant and decorated living room. The scent of leather and expensive cologne filled the air, and the view of the city sky through the floor-to-ceiling windows was breathtaking. Victor was standing by the window, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He turned when he heard her approach, a satisfied smile was on his lips.

"I’m glad you decided to come," he said, his voice carrying of satsfaction.

Olivia clenched her fists. "I haven’t agreed to anything," she replied. "I’m just here to discuss... the terms."

Victor’s smile spread. "Of course. Have a seat," he gestured toward a plush chair. "Let’s talk."

She reluctantly sat down, her posture was stiff and defensive. Victor moved to sit across from her, his gaze was unwavering as he was studying her. There was a predatory glow in his eyes, one that made her feel exposed, as though he could see everything she was trying to hide.

"I’ll be straightforward, Olivia," he began, leaning forward slightly. "You need money, and I need... companionship. A wife, to be exact. Someone who can stand by my side and fulfill the duties that come with being married to a man like me."

She frowned. "And what exactly does that mean?"

"It means you will be mine," Victor said, his voice was dropping to a low in possessive tone. "In every sense of the word. You’ll move in with me, accompany me to social events, and, of course… share my bed."

Olivia’s heart twisted at his words. "So, you’re just looking for a trophy wife," she said bitterly. "Someone to play the part and warm your bed."

"Not just any trophy wife," he corrected. "I want someone who will challenge me, keep me interested. Someone with a spirit that won’t break easily. That’s what drew me to you, Olivia."

The way he said her name, with such familiarity and confidence, made her flushed. "And if I refuse?" she asked, her voice above a whisper.

Victor’s expression hardened. "If you refuse, then you can walk out that door and never look back. But you and I both know that you’ll regret it. Your father’s situation isn’t going to improve without proper treatment, and we both know you can’t afford that on your own."

His words cut deep, hitting the nerve. He was right, of course. She could walk away now, but doing so would take her father to a slow death, and that was something she couldn’t bear to live with. The thought of watching her father suffer, knowing that there was something she could have done to help, was unbearable.

"What do you get out of this?" she asked, desperate to understand his motives. "Why go through all this trouble for a marriage of convenience?"

Victor’s gaze gets intense, his blue eyes glowing with a mixture of hunger and determination. "I want control," he admitted. "And I want you. There’s something about you, Olivia, something that’s different from the rest. You’re not like the women I’m used to, and that attracts me. I don’t just want a wife. I want you to belong to me."

The possessiveness in his voice sent a jolt in her chest, but there was an allure that she couldn’t deny. She hated that part of herself was tempted by his offer.

"If I agree to this," she began slowly, "then there have to be some conditions. I’m not going to be treated like a possession."

Victor arched his eyebrow, clearly amused by her attempt of setting boundaries. "And what conditions do you propose?"

"For starting, I want a timeline," she said firmly. "This arrangement isn’t permanent. One year, no more."

"A year is a reasonable start," Victor nodded. "But let’s be clear, during that year, you will fulfill all your duties as my wife."

Olivia’s jaw tightens. "And after the year is up?"

"After a year," he says with a shrug, "if you want to walk away, I won’t stop you. But I think you’ll find it difficult to leave once you’ve experienced everything I can offer you."

The challenge in his words did not escape her. He was confident, too confident that he could make her stay. But Olivia was determined to keep her independence, even if it is meant to play his game for a while.

"And there will be no force," she added, her voice was calm. "I’m not agreeing to anything physical unless I want to."

Victor’s expression darkened a bit, but he nodded. "Agreed. Consent is important to me, Olivia. But I’ll warn you, I’m a man, and I’m not afraid to use that to my advantage."

She met his gaze, unwilling to back down. "Then it’s settled. One year, and I’m free to go."

Victor reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He opened it to reveal a diamond ring, elegant, yet undoubtedly expensive. "Then let’s make it official," he said, extending the box towards her.

Olivia stared at the ring, her heart pounding in her chest. It was the final step, the point of no return. Once she put that ring on, she would be bound to him for the next twelve months. The weight of this decision makes her heart tightened, but she thought of her father and all the sacrifices she had made to keep him alive.

With a trembling hand, she took the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger. It fit perfectly, and as she looks up, she saw the victorious glow in Victor’s eyes.

"Welcome to your new life, Mrs. Husley," he said with a satisfied smile.

Olivia took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she was stepping into the unknown, with a man who was both her savior and her captor. The lines between love, hate, and obsession were already fading, and she knew that the path ahead would not be easy.

To be continued.