The Wife Nobody Wanted
iversar
on Mansion, Upper Ea
a testament to the wealth and influence of the Harrington family. The mansion was a leftover from the Gilded Age, its curving arched windows, intricate carvings, and wrought-iron gate that whi
time itself lagged, as if the mansion existed in its own timelessness. The grounds were perfect, with hedged gardens trimmed, rose bushes in bloom, and a fountai
e suspended waterfalls, their light refracting off the polished marble floor. The walls were mirrored in gold leaf, reflecting the shimmering gown
ure, the fabric shimmering like a fluid in the lights. The dress was stunning, but it was a costume, one that she had been forced to wear. Her green
attention, as always, his booming voice carrying over the hum of conversation. His icy blue eyes locked with Olivia's, and for a moment,
ers. He moved with the gait of a man who had never been told no, every step commanding notice. The c
ture that looked loving to bystanders. But his hold was firm, his fi
Harrington estate. The Manhattan skyline towered in the distance, its skyscrapers glinting l
and glittering chandeliers, was a stage upon which power and wealth were performed. The mirrors that lined the walls reflected not ju
lowed her everywhere. The guests, all formally attired, mixed in the room like actors
his every word and gesture commanding notice. But Olivia knew the truth-that behind the c
ss, she could not help but feel the mansion closing in on her. It was a gil
digger," a woman whispered
ch better," another murmure
ever be o
t her as though she were an imposter to their world. She glanced across the room, where Victor Harrington had gone to shak
an arm around her waist, the grip firm enough that she caught her breath. "Smi
any onlooker. But his grip on her arm was firm, his voice low and threatening as he
she composed herself, raising her glass to the group
en Power
ainst the railing; her tiny hands wrapped around the cold metal as she struggled to regulate her breathing. The
elena's frigid glare was a mirror of her father's, and Nicholas's sneer was dipped in mo
es carried on the breeze. "She believed she could change her fate," one o
on her heel and ran back indoors, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Vic
ile was razor-sharp. "Enjoying the party, Olivia?" she asked, her tone sweet
nails dug into her palms. "I cou
f us," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And when my
g as authoritative as ever. "Ladies," he said, his voi
uite reach her eyes. "Of course, Father.
via; his expression impassive. "Goo
ispere
rrington Mansio
at the grand staircase, her jade-colored gown shining under the subdued light of the chandelier. She clutche
d on the small of her back, his touch firm and possessive. "You've been quiet to
s icy blue ones. "Just tired," she stated soft
iar, Olivia," he said, his tone light but his grip on her waist tightening. "I've alwa
t her expression neutral. "I'm not ly
whelmed by what, darling? The attention? The whispers? Or p
't. Not here, not in front of everyone. "I belong here
pine. "You're brave, I'll say that. But
of the detective, the attention Victor had been paying her of late. Wa
, Victor?" she breathed,
t him. His eyes were cold, calculating. "I want you to remember your place," he growled
e. He didn't need to. The sh
of the right to see the fear in her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere,
ng humorous about it. "Good. Because I'd hate
d her, his voice once again light. "The guests await." Olivia forced a smile and watched him walk away. She felt
wet, heavy blanket. She remembered the life she'd abandoned, the secrets she'd guarde
's control. Still, as she glanced around the room, at the glittering chandeliers and the o
ed in her mind: "Yo
aising her glass to the bygone guest. Inside, her resolve hardened.
ealiz
The woman looking back at her was a stranger-her mak
p on her life each day. She recalled Helena's toxic words, the
what secrets she held, the life she'd l
could not waste the luxury of tears. Not now. For one thing was cert