Chapter two

Dahlia's POV

It's been three months since I married Ethan Caine, and I haven't seen him once in this house. The last time I saw him was on our wedding day, when I walked in and heard him in his room with another woman. After that, it was as if he disappeared from the face of the earth.

I’ve gotten used to the housemaids here. Mrs. Austin and the others have been welcoming, and I’ve spent most of my free time bonding with them. I need all the company I can get for the next year; it shouldn't be that bad.

I remember the contract Mr. Caine had me sign in the VIP section of the café where I used to work. He told me I wouldn’t have to work for the entire time I was married to his son. He promised me a large sum of money in exchange, and I was grateful for that. 

Since I left the orphanage, I’ve worked nonstop, moving from one café to the next, then from a restaurant to a diner, just to feed and clothe myself. 

My parents decided they didn’t want me and dumped me at some random orphanage, and my husband doesn't value me either. I hear the maids talk about him often, and I eavesdrop all the time.

Maria, a young maid I befriended, told me many things about Ethan, all of them either terrifying or heartless. "He doesn't care about his parents, you know," Maria whispered, wide-eyed as she shared a rumor. "Some say he hates them because his father had an affair, and his mother forgave him."

"Andrew Caine had an affair? Wow," I replied, surprised but not shocked. 

I didn’t believe everything I read in the media, but I didn’t really know Andrew Caine personally. He seemed like a gentleman who wanted the best for his son, someone who loved his children. But you just never know. 

Maria shrugged. "I think it was a mistake, or something like that. Even so, he should cut the old man some slack. His parents adore him."

"I can see that," I agreed, nodding.

"And his sister never visits. She gets along only with Ethan, not with their parents. Can you imagine? What kind of children would do that to their parents? It’s painful seeing the Caines come here, only for Ethan to refuse to see them over and over again." Maria shook her head in disapproval.

"Really? Can’t they talk some sense into him?" I asked, now more curious about the family dynamics.

"It’s so bad, honestly. I can’t wait for someone to solve this mystery about the children. Something’s fishy." Maria narrowed her eyes before smiling sheepishly and continued arranging my clothes. 

"It has to be more than the cheating rumor," I mused.

"It goes deeper than that," Maria insisted. "Why would your own flesh and blood detest you so much that they can’t be in the same room as you? It makes no sense."

Now I was truly curious, but I knew I wouldn't get any answers from them. "There’s no hope when it comes to Ethan."

"He’s a handsome devil, though. Such a waste," Maria sighed.

"A waste," I echoed, leaning my head back against the plush chair in my walk-in closet. "I’d love to know what made him this way."

"He’s not open," Maria warned, turning back to me with serious eyes. "Keep your heart safe from him. He may have the perfect face and a gorgeous body, but his heart? I doubt it even beats."

I should have taken her warning more seriously, but every day I found myself wanting to meet Ethan Caine. I spent my time stalking him online, feeding off anything related to him. He was always on my mind.

This afternoon, I walked down the stairs to get some food, my stomach grumbling as I went. I was almost at the last step when I heard voices coming from the living room. 

I paused, recognizing one as a deep baritone and the other a soft feminine voice. Curious, I peeked around the corner to see who was talking. My breath caught at the sight of Ethan and a slender woman standing before him.

Not wanting to interrupt, I stepped back, using the wall to shield myself.

"How dare he force you to marry someone from the streets? Is he fucking nuts? What the hell is going through that man's head?" the woman snapped, crossing her arms. 

Were they talking about me? I wanted to shout that I wasn't "from the streets," but fear kept my voice stuck in my throat. I’ve always been intimidated by wealthy people because they are unpredictable.

"I have no idea, but I'm going to beat him at his own game. He should watch me," Ethan replied. 

It was the first time I’d heard his voice since the wedding, and the sound sent an unexpected shiver through me. I closed my eyes, savoring his words like a caress. Quickly, I shook myself out of it, remembering where I was.

"And Mother is just sitting there like a good little woman, huh? Not saying a thing while her husband ruins her son's life with his nonsense," the woman continued.

"Like she always does," Ethan growled, the sound low and menacing.

"What’s the point of this whole sham of a marriage?" the woman asked.

"Fuck me if I know. He'll regret it, that’s all I can promise." His tone was laced with a dangerous promise that made me shiver.

Maria was right; Ethan Caine was far more evil than I’d imagined. Would he really go to such lengths against his own father? God, what a mistake it was to be here.

Before I could move, Ethan and the woman were suddenly right in front of me, looking every bit as striking as ever. She is slender and will pass up for a high paid model. 

They looked so similar with their raven hair and olive skin, like two sides of the same coin. But their eyes were different, Ethan’s were a vivid blue that seemed endless, while hers were a deep brown, almost innocent. Almost.

They seemed to be piecing things together, trying to figure out who I was. I straightened my back, but I knew it wouldn't help much. When they noticed I wasn’t in a maid’s uniform, realization dawned on them.

He doesn’t even know my face does he? I had a veil on during the wedding. Why does this hurt? 

"Who are you?" the woman asked, her voice soft but her tone hard.

"I'm Dahlia," I replied, almost adding "Caine," but I wasn’t bold enough. Not when I felt this frightened.

Both siblings sneered at me, identical expressions of disdain. My hands clawed at the wall behind me, my heart racing. Something was very wrong, and I wanted to run.

The woman stepped closer, invading my personal space. "So you’re the whore our father forced into our family? What did you do to him? Why did he choose you?"

Her hostility caught me off guard, and tears stung my eyes. "I did nothing. I swear," I stuttered.

She didn’t seem to believe me and sneered even closer. "Which brothel did he drag you from? You smell cheap, even among whores."

Full tears were streaming down my face now. "I-I’m not a whore. I—" I was cut off when a slap landed hard across my cheek.

I didn’t even know who slapped me.