The silence in the grand dining hall was suffocating. Crystal chandeliers glimmered above, their warm golden light unable to chase away the tension that hovered like a storm cloud over the long mahogany table. Plates of delicacies sat untouched, their aromas wafting up in vain. No one seemed to have the appetite to eat.
Elena sat stiffly, her fingers curled against her lap. She tried to appear calm, but her chest rose and fell with each uneven breath. To her right, Liam's mother—Madam Catherine—watched her with an expression Elena could only describe as icy disapproval. The woman's posture was regal, her spine straight as a blade, her pearls gleaming against her elegant evening gown. She had not spoken much since Elena arrived, but the few words she had uttered earlier still stung like nettles.
"You're not the woman I would have chosen for my son," Catherine had said softly, almost sweetly, though her tone carried more venom than outright cruelty. "But since the marriage is already sealed, I will tolerate your presence—provided you know your place."
Those words echoed in Elena's mind even now, haunting her as she picked at the food before her. She wanted to disappear. Yet, at the same time, her pride whispered for her to lift her chin higher, to prove she wasn't the weak girl Catherine thought she was.
At the head of the table sat Mr. Winston Gray, Liam's father. Unlike Catherine, his demeanor was calm, observant. His sharp eyes, however, betrayed a quiet intelligence that made Elena even more self-conscious. He hadn't condemned her, but he hadn't defended her either. Instead, he studied her as if she were a puzzle he hadn't decided whether to solve or discard.
And then there was Liam. Seated across from her, his expression unreadable, his gaze fixed on his glass of wine as though it contained answers to questions only he knew. He hadn't spoken a word to her since they sat down. Every second of silence between them widened the gulf she already felt in their marriage.
Elena's fork clinked softly against her plate, the sound far too loud in the oppressive quiet. Her throat tightened. She wanted to escape this dinner, this family, this marriage that felt more like a transaction than a union.
"Tell me, Elena," Catherine's voice sliced through the silence, smooth and poised. "Where exactly did you study? I seem to recall Liam mentioning something about you not finishing your degree?"
Elena froze. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Why did Catherine bring that up? Of course she knew. Catherine must have done her research. She knew Elena had dropped out of university halfway through to care for her ailing mother. Yet the way she asked the question—publicly, in front of the whole family—was meant to humiliate.
"I…" Elena swallowed, forcing her voice steady. "I studied literature. But I had to pause when my mother fell ill."
Catherine's lips curved into something that looked like pity but felt like mockery. "How noble of you. But literature? That hardly seems… practical, doesn't it? A CEO's wife is expected to understand business, economics, finance. Don't you agree, Liam?"
All eyes turned to Liam.
He looked up slowly, his gaze flickering between his mother and Elena. His jaw tightened, but his tone remained flat. "Mother, this isn't the time—"
"It's precisely the time," Catherine interrupted smoothly. "This dinner is meant to show us who she is. Don't you think, Winston?"
Mr. Gray exhaled, his voice deep and calm. "Catherine, that's enough. We can't expect Elena to transform overnight. Give her time."
But Elena barely heard his defense. Shame burned her from the inside out. Her lack of a degree. Her lack of refinement. Her lack of… everything that this family seemed to embody. No matter how hard she tried, she didn't belong.
Her fingers trembled under the table. She clasped them together, trying to hold herself together too. But then, out of nowhere, Liam's voice cut through the tension.
"She doesn't need to prove anything to anyone here," he said, sharper this time. "She's my wife. That's all that matters."
Elena's heart stuttered. For the first time since their wedding, Liam had spoken in her defense. The table went quiet. Even Catherine's lips parted slightly in surprise before curling again into a tight smile.
"How touching," Catherine murmured, sipping her wine. "But let's hope love—or whatever this is—will be enough to withstand the real challenges ahead."
Elena bit the inside of her cheek. Love? She wanted to laugh. There was no love between them. Not yet. But somehow Liam's words still lodged themselves deep inside her chest, warming a place that had long felt cold.
The dinner dragged on painfully, each course feeling like a trial Elena had to endure. By the time the last dessert was served, her body ached from sitting so stiffly. When at last she was excused, she nearly bolted from the table. Liam followed shortly after, catching up with her in the hallway.
"You shouldn't let her get to you," he said quietly, his tone more gentle than she expected. "My mother… she has a way of testing people."
Elena stopped, turning to face him. "Testing? That wasn't a test, Liam. That was humiliation. She doesn't want me here. And maybe she's right—I don't belong in this world of yours."
He frowned, his gaze narrowing. "Don't say that."
"Why not?" Elena snapped, surprising even herself with the sharpness of her voice. "It's the truth, isn't it? You didn't even want me as your wife. I was just… convenient. An unwanted bride who got pushed into your life."
The words hung between them like poison. For a moment, Liam said nothing. His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. Then he stepped closer, his voice low, almost dangerous.
"Don't ever call yourself unwanted again," he said. "I may not have chosen this marriage, but you are my wife now. That means something. To me. To this family. And to you."
Elena's breath caught. His words were fierce, protective, but confusing. What did they mean? Was he starting to care? Or was this just his pride speaking?
Before she could respond, a servant appeared at the end of the hall, bowing slightly. "Sir, Madam… your presence is requested in the study. Mr. Gray wishes to speak with you privately."
Elena and Liam exchanged a look. Confusion flickered in her chest. What now?
The study was dimly lit, the scent of old leather and cigars lingering in the air. Mr. Gray stood by the fireplace, hands clasped behind his back. His gaze shifted between the two of them as they entered.
"Sit," he instructed. His tone was calm, but it carried authority. They obeyed, sinking into the leather chairs opposite his desk.
After a long pause, Mr. Gray finally spoke. "I will be blunt. This marriage wasn't what I envisioned for my son. But it's done. What matters now is whether it will strengthen this family—or weaken it."
Elena's pulse quickened. She clasped her hands tightly on her lap, her mind racing.
"I need to know," Mr. Gray continued, his gaze locking on her, "what you truly want, Elena. Do you see yourself as a partner to my son, supporting him in his role, or are you simply surviving in this house, waiting for it all to collapse?"
His words were a knife disguised as a question. Elena's throat felt dry, but she forced herself to speak. "I… I want to make this marriage work," she whispered. "I know I'm not what you expected. But I'm not here to bring shame to your family. I'll learn. I'll fight for my place. Not because I was forced here, but because… because I want to stand beside him. Not behind him."
Liam's head turned sharply toward her, his eyes wide, searching her face. Something unreadable flickered in his expression—something softer than she had ever seen before.
Mr. Gray studied her for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Good. Because you'll need that resolve. This family carries secrets… and burdens. If you're truly willing to fight for your place, then you must be ready for what comes."
Elena swallowed hard. "What do you mean?"
Mr. Gray's gaze shifted to Liam, heavy with meaning. "Tell her, son. She deserves to know."
Liam stiffened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. Elena's stomach dropped. What secret? What was being hidden from her?
Her husband looked at her, his eyes stormy with conflict. For the first time, Elena saw fear in them.
"Elena," he said finally, his voice low. "There's something about this family you don't know. Something that changes everything."
To be continued…