Chapter 4

SELENE

The house was quiet that morning as I scrubbed the kitchen floor, the soapy water stinging my hands, but it was nothing compared to the ache sitting heavy in my chest. I glanced up at the clock, realizing with a sinking feeling that today was the seventh day—the last day of the deadline Margaret and my father had given me. I had to find a husband or be forced to marry Peter Norwood, the man they had chosen for me. The thought alone made my stomach twist.

I wiped a strand of hair from my face, trying to focus on my work, but my mind kept drifting to the strange gifts I’d been receiving. They had started arriving a few days ago, one after the other. Flowers, jewellery, dresses… things I’d never dreamt of having. At first, I thought it was a mistake—maybe someone had the wrong address. But no, they were all addressed to me. And no matter how much I tried to figure out who was sending them, I had no answers. I didn’t even know why.

A shuffling noise pulled me from my thoughts, and I looked up to see Olivia and Margaret, my stepmom walking into the room. I stood quickly, wiping my hands on my apron.

“Good morning,” I greeted them, my voice polite but wary. There was always something sharp in their eyes when they looked at me like they were just waiting for the chance to cut me down.

Olivia smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Still no sign of your mysterious admirer, Selene?” Her voice dripped with false sweetness, but I could hear the taunt underneath. “It’s almost like he doesn’t exist. What a surprise.”

I pressed my lips together, staying silent. There was nothing I could say that wouldn’t fuel her cruel amusement. Olivia lived for moments like this, moments where she could remind me of my place in this family—or rather, my lack of one.

Margaret stepped forward, her eyes cold and calculating as she crossed her arms. “We’ve been patient, Selene. Far more patient than you deserve.” Her words were cutting, and I could feel the weight of them pressing down on me. “We’ve entertained your little charade these past few days. The gifts, the deliveries. As if someone of your standing could ever hope to attract such attention.”

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure. I knew what was coming next. Margaret had made it clear from the start that she didn’t believe anyone would come for me, that these gifts were some sort of fluke. And today was the day I had to face that truth.

“The seven days are up,” Margaret continued, her tone hardening. “It’s time you accept reality. No one is coming for you. It’s time you accept the man we’ve chosen for you.”

I felt a shiver run down my spine at the mention of Peter Norwood. He was an imbecile, plain and simple. But he was rich—rich enough to overlook the fact that I was an illegitimate daughter. That’s all Margaret and my father cared about. Not love, not happiness. Just status and money.

“I won’t marry him,” I said quietly, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

“What did you say?” Margaret’s voice was sharp, her eyes narrowing as she stepped closer.

“I won’t marry Peter Norwood,” I repeated, my voice trembling but firm.

Olivia let out a laugh, the sound was high-pitched and mocking. “Oh, that’s rich. Do you actually think you have a choice? You’re lucky we’ve even found someone willing to marry you. Do you really think anyone else would want you, Selene?”

I clenched my fists at my sides, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew they saw me as nothing more than a burden—a stain on the family’s reputation. But that didn’t mean I was willing to throw my life away, to marry a man I didn’t even know, let alone love.

“I deserve better,” I whispered, more to myself than to them.

Margaret scoffed, her lips curling into a sneer. “Better? You? You’re lucky to even have a roof over your head, Selene. After everything your mother did, after the disgrace she brought to this family, you should be grateful we didn’t throw you out on the street.”

Her words hit me like a slap to the face. The mention of my mother was always a low blow, but Margaret never hesitated to use it against me.

“Grateful?” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve treated me like nothing. I’ve spent my life trying to make up for a sin I didn’t even commit.”

Margaret raised an eyebrow, her expression icy. “You think you’re entitled to some grand life? You’re nothing more than a maid with delusions of grandeur. No one is coming for you, Selene. No one.”

“I’d rather be alone than marry Peter,” I said, my voice trembling. Tears stung the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not in front of them.

Olivia rolled her eyes, her arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe. “You’re pathetic, Selene. All these gifts—who do you think you’re fooling? They’re probably from some desperate shopkeeper trying to clear out old stock.”

I felt my heart sink further. I hadn’t believed that, but Olivia’s words made me question everything. What if she was right? What if the gifts meant nothing? What if no one was coming?

Margaret stepped closer, her gaze hard as steel. “This little fantasy of yours ends today. Peter Norwood is a good match for you. He’s wealthy. He’s willing to overlook your… origins. You should be thanking us.”

“I won’t marry him,” I repeated, though my voice was weaker now, the weight of their words pressing down on me. “I won’t.”

“Then what will you do?” Olivia sneered, stepping forward. “Wait for some imaginary prince to sweep you off your feet? You’re delusional, Selene. No one is coming for you.”

Just as I was about to speak, the sound of a car pulling up outside cut me off. It wasn’t unusual for deliveries to arrive at this time, but something about the rumble of the engine felt different. I glanced toward the window, a knot of unease tightening in my stomach.

Olivia rolled her eyes, her lips twisting into a mocking smile. “Another pointless delivery, no doubt. Maybe this time it’ll be a wedding dress—so you can marry Peter in style.”

But Margaret’s expression changed. She stepped closer to the window, her brow furrowing in confusion. “That’s no delivery wagon,” she said slowly, her eyes narrowing.

Curiosity prickled at my skin, and before I knew it, I was moving toward the window, my heart pounding in my chest. I pulled the curtain aside and froze.

A sleek, black car—a luxury model I’d only ever seen in magazines—was parked in front of the house. The driver, dressed sharply in a black suit, stepped out first and walked around to open the door. My breath caught in my throat as a tall figure emerged, dressed in a tailored suit that looked impossibly expensive. His dark hair caught the sunlight as he adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. Then he looked up toward the house.

Toward me.

I stumbled back from the window, my heart racing. “No…”

“Who is it?” Olivia asked, rushing to the window. “Who could possibly be—”

But her words died on her lips the moment she saw him. Her mouth hung open, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Margaret turned slowly, her voice unsteady. “Who… who is that?”

The question hung in the air as we all stared, frozen in place. The man moved with a confident grace, his eyes sharp as he approached the door. It was as if the world had slowed down, every moment dragging out in agonizing anticipation.

Before I could process what was happening, Margaret rushed to the door, her hands trembling as she pulled it open. The man stepped inside, his presence commanding and undeniable. He was more handsome up close than I could have imagined—his features sharp, his dark eyes focused and intense. He barely glanced at Margaret and Olivia as his gaze swept the room and landed on me.

“I’ve come to claim my wife,” he said, his voice smooth, laced with authority.

Wife?

The word sent a shock through my body. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. All I could do was stare at him, my pulse roaring in my ears.

Margaret was the first to recover, her voice incredulous. “Who—who are you?”

The man didn’t even glance at her. His eyes stayed on me, unwavering, as if no one else in the room mattered. “My name is Adrien Voss,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. “And I’m here for Selene.”

I felt the floor shift beneath me, my mind reeling. Adrien Voss? The name was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. How could I know a man like him? And how could he possibly be here… for me?