Chapter 1
At dawn, Odalys Stone cracked open her eyes, the sunlight pouring through the window making her squint.
For a moment, she stared blankly, her mind groggy, before her gaze fell on the crooked calendar on the wall. A bitter smile tugged at her lips.
She was back.
Back to this godforsaken day-the day her life had been ripped apart. The day she was sold into a marriage from hell, betrayed by the very people she had called family, and ultimately killed.
Hatred boiled in her veins, rising like a tide that threatened to drown her. But just as quickly, she forced it down, letting icy calm take its place. Her past life had already wrung every last drop of emotion out of her.
Not this time. This time, she wasn’t that naive, helpless girl. She was alive. And she was here to make them pay, every single one of them.
The sound of heavy footsteps snapped her out of her thoughts. A sharp knock rattled the door, followed by louder, more impatient banging.
Before Odalys could even move, the door burst open with a deafening crash. A tall figure stormed in, grabbing her arm roughly and yanking her up.
“Odalys Stone, are you fucking deaf?” Henry Bennett barked, his grip bruising, his expression one of pure rage.
Her face turned glacial, her lips curling into a sneer. Without hesitation, she twisted his wrist sharply and shoved him away with enough force to make him stumble.
As he regained his balance, blinking in stunned disbelief, Odalys calmly reached for her phone, pressing the record button without missing a beat.
Henry gawked at her, his jaw slack. This wasn’t the meek, obedient sister he knew-the one who flinched at his every word. She wasn’t cowering or apologizing. She had fought back.
“What the hell’s gotten into you?” he spat, pointing an
accusatory finger at her. “Do you think this is some kind of joke? The Stewarts are coming today, and you’re still lying in bed? Do you want them to take Sophia instead? Is that it?”
Odalys’s gaze hardened, her voice cutting through his tirade like a knife. “Why, Henry? Isn’t she the one engaged to him? Or is it because their son is dying that you want me to take her place? You’re scared she’ll end up a widow, but me? I’m just expendable, right?”
His mouth opened and closed, his face turning an ugly shade of red. “Sophia is different,” he muttered, his eyes darting away. “If people find out she’s been married before, her life will be ruined.”
A bitter laugh escaped her lips, sharp and cold. “Oh, I see. Her reputation is sacred, but mine? That’s disposable? How fucking convenient.”
Henry’s fists clenched at his sides, his face twisting with anger. Before he could lash out, a frail figure appeared at the doorway.
“Henry, stop,” Sophia Bennett said, her voice trembling as tears streamed down her pale cheeks. She looked heartbreakingly pitiful, her wide eyes shimmering with sorrow. “I’ll do it. I’ll marry him, okay? If he dies, then… then I’II…” Her voice broke into sobs, her frail body shaking as though she might collapse.
“Enough!” Hannah Bennett’s voice sliced through the room like a whip.
Odalys turned her gaze to her mother, who stood at the doorway flanked by her two brothers, Caspian and Atlas Bennett. Their faces were etched with fury, their contempt for her palpable.
“Odalys,” Caspian snapped, his fists tightening, “how can you be so heartless? Sophia is your sister. Are you really going to let her face this alone?”
Atlas crossed his arms, his tone dripping with disgust. “We’re not asking you to die. Just marry him for a while. Once he’s gone, you’ll come back safe and sound. What’s the big deal?”
Their audacity was almost laughable.
Before her time travel, this might have broken her. She might have screamed, begged them to see reason, only to be crushed under their blackmail and cruelty.
She had been drugged, stripped of her dignity, and forced into that cursed marriage. And when it became too much, she ended it all in despair.
But not this time.
“Fine,” she said coolly, her tone so steady it was almost unnerving. “I never said I wouldn’t marry him.”
Taking a deep breath, Odalys straightened her shoulders, her lips curling into a calm, almost serene smile. Without a word, she walked to her desk, picking up a pen and paper. Her phone, still recording, caught every calculated move. The room fell silent. They exchanged confused glances, trying to figure out what game she was playing.
A moment later, she turned back to them, holding out a document she’d just written. “Here’s the deal-you’re all signing this agreement to sever any and all family ties with me. I want it airtight, legally binding, and notarized. No bullshit, no loopholes. Once that’s done, I’ll marry the guy. Simple as that.”
Their stunned silence quickly turned to outrage.
Atlas grabbed the document with a sneer, his voice dripping with mockery. “You? Cut ties with us? Who the hell do you think you are? Spit it out-how much do you want?” Henry didn’t even hesitate. He pulled a sleek black card from his wallet and tossed it onto the table with a cold, detached expression. “Thirty thousand dollars. Take it and get out. Stop playing the victim-it’s just a goddamn wedding. You’re acting like we’re sending you to the gallows.”
Sophia’s eyes flickered with a momentary spark of relief when she saw the agreement, but she quickly smothered it with crocodile tears. “No, no, don’t do this, sister!”
Her voice cracked as she shook her head, her tone full of exaggerated despair. “I’ll go. I’ll marry him if that’s what it takes. Please, don’t fight with Mom and the boys because of me. It’s my fault-I should’ve left the house the moment you came back if I’d known you felt this way.”
She spun around dramatically, her frail frame trembling with grief, and collapsed conveniently into Henry’s arms. “Sophia,” Henry murmured, holding her close like she was made of porcelain. He shot Odalys a glare filled with venom. “Is this what you wanted? To tear this family apart?”
Odalys met his fury with icy detachment. “I’m not tearing anything apart. Just sign the damn agreement, get it notarized, and I’ll go play your sacrificial lamb.”
Their angry, incredulous faces only fueled her inner amusement. ‘Why did I waste so many years trying to please these people? Why did I beg for affection from I people who wouldn’t piss on me if I were on fire?”
Once, she’d been their discarded daughter, tossed aside like trash while they paraded around their “replacement,” a shiny new girl they’d adopted to fill her spot.
Meanwhile, Odalys had been left to fend for herself in the streets, barely surviving. If not for her mentor, she’d have been dead long ago.
And yet, despite all that, she’d come back, hoping to earn their love, only to be betrayed in the cruelest way imaginable. But this time? This time, she wasn’t here to beg. “You’ll regret this!” Hannah’s shrill voice snapped through the tension like a whip. She turned to the nearest servant and barked, “Get the lawyer. Now!”
Her desperation was almost laughable-she wasn’t worried about principle, only about Odalys backing out. The brothers exchanged uneasy glances but stayed silent, too afraid to challenge their mother.
“Uh… yes, ma’am,” the servant stammered before scurrying off.
Henry stood frozen, his jaw clenched as he processed what was happening. “Mom, you’re not seriously doing this, are you?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
But before he could get an answer, Sophia’s soft sobs stole the spotlight.
“Mom, let’s not take it this far,” Caspian chimed in, playing the concerned brother. “She’s still family.”
Hannah’s lips curled into a sneer, her eyes flashing with pure disdain. “This ungrateful brat thinks she can just walk away? Fine. Let her try. Without the Bennett name, let’s see how far she gets in this world.”
The lawyer arrived moments later, looking thoroughly confused but professional as ever. Hannah shoved the document at him without hesitation, watching as it was officially notarized.
Odalys took the signed agreement, her face calm and unreadable. She snapped a photo of it with her phone before slipping the papers into her bag. Without a word, she turned and walked toward the door, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor.
“Move,” she said coolly, her voice like a blade. “You’re in my way.”
Hannah stood frozen, her fury simmering beneath the surface. Finally, she grabbed her phone and hurled it toward Odalys’s retreating figure. “You selfish little bitch! Are you trying to kill me?!”
But Odalys didn’t even flinch. Her voice floated up the staircase, steady and sharp. “Are those the wedding gifts from the Stewart family?”
“Yes, ma’am,” a servant replied hesitantly.
Everyone froze, their confusion quickly morphing into curiosity as they followed her downstairs. There, Odalys stood in the entryway, surveying the piles of lavish gifts stacked neatly by the door.
She pulled out her ID and handed it to the nearest servant. Go to the bank. Open a safety deposit box and store everything there.”
The servant blinked, visibly stunned. “Pardon me, ma’am?”
Odalys arched a brow, her lips curving into a smirk. “What’s the problem? Aren’t these gifts for me?”
“Y-yes, ma’am,” he stammered, nodding quickly.
At her command, a team of guards began loading the extravagant gifts back into the trucks. The grand Bennett estate erupted into chaos as workers scrambled to carry out her orders.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Hannah screamed, her voice hoarse with rage.
Chapter 2
The Stewart family-everyone knew their name. They were the pinnacle of power, dripping in wealth, and way out of anyone else’s league.
The wedding gifts they sent weren’t just generous-they were mind-blowing. Even without counting, it was obvious they were worth billions.
For a family like the Bennetts? Getting tied to the Stewarts was nothing short of a miracle. They weren’t even in the same universe. But fate had handed them a golden ticket. William Bennett and Evander Stewart had once fought together, shoulder to shoulder, in life-or-death battles. Somewhere along the way, they’d sealed a promise: a marriage pact between their future children.
Initially, the Bennetts planned to marry off Sophia. It was a straightforward enough plan until bad news hit. The man she was supposed to marry was at death’s door, and the whispers said he didn’t have much time left.
No way were they going to send Sophia into a marriage that’d turn her into a widow before it even began. Luckily- or unluckily, seven months ago, the Bennetts had found their long-lost biological daughter, Odalys Stone.
And just like that, they had a perfect solution: send Odalys instead. She’d secure the Bennetts’ connection to the Stewarts, widow or not. Sophia would be off the hook, and the family would still come out on top. It was a win-win-at least for everyone except Odalys.
“What am I doing here?” Odalys said, her voice calm but laced with a sharp edge as she glanced around. She raised an eyebrow, her smirk growing. “Well, obviously, I’m here to collect what’s mine.”
She didn’t bother hiding the amusement in her eyes. Watching the Bennetts fume while the Stewart family bodyguards loomed nearby was too satisfying.
“What’s wrong? Were you planning to keep it all for yourselves?” Her voice turned mockingly curious, her tone dripping with fake innocence. “Oh, wait-I get it. You’re trying to screw me over because you think I’m just the backup bride, right?”
Her words hit like a grenade. The bodyguards immediately paused their work, sharp eyes locking onto the Bennetts with unspoken suspicion.
Hannah’s face went pale, her heavily made-up features
twisting in barely contained rage. She spat through gritted teeth, “If the Stewarts gave it to you, then fine. Take it. It’s yours.”
“Damn right, it’s mine.” Odalys tilted her head, smirk still firmly in place. “Let’s go, guys. Load it all up.”
The bodyguards didn’t need to be told twice. They began reloading the boxes of gifts onto the waiting trucks.
One of them rattled off the inventory under his breath.” Three boxes with three million dollars each. Two boxes of gold and diamond jewelry, 200 pieces total. One small box containing six property deeds for Crystal Cove villas. One small box with keys to 11 luxury cars.”
Sophia’s fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging so hard into her palms that she almost drew blood.
Those gifts were supposed to be hers. Sure, she didn’t want to marry into the Stewarts, but she’d never said she didn’t want the spoils. And now, she thought Odalys was walking out with everything. Every last thing.
Her chest tightened with rage, her breaths coming quick and sharp. ‘Why? Why does she get to take what should be mine?’
“Odalys Stone, don’t you have any shame?” Hannah
snapped, stepping forward with a trembling hand, pointing at her. Her voice cracked with the effort to keep her anger in check. “Aren’t you afraid people will laugh at you? Taking all this-it’s disgusting.”
“Laugh? At me?” Odalys turned, her expression cool, her voice calm and mocking. “For what? Taking what my husband gave me? No, Mrs. Bennett, people aren’t going to laugh. They’re gonna be jealous as hell.”
Her lips curled into a cold smile, her eyes glinting with something dangerous. “Or is it you who’s jealous?”
Her gaze swept across the room, pausing on each familiar face. To her surprise, she didn’t feel the anger she thought she would. The Bennetts didn’t deserve her rage.
What she felt instead was an eerie calm. She’d been here before, in another timeline. This time, she wasn’t here to please anyone. This time, she was here to cut ties, burn bridges, and take what was hers.
“These gifts belong to me because the Stewarts are marrying me. You got a problem with that?” Her voice was soft but carried an unmistakable edge. Each word hit like a slap.
Her eyes scanned the room, finally settling on Sophia. Slowly, deliberately, she stepped forward.
Sophia froze, her eyes darting nervously to the side as she stumbled back a step. Her gaze flickered to the boxes of gifts, jealousy and frustration swirling in her tear-filled eyes. She’d never wanted this to happen. Sure, she’d agreed to let Odalys take her place in the marriage, but she hadn’t agreed to give her everything. And now, Odalys was walking away with it all. The thought made her stomach churn with rage and humiliation.
“Odalys, how could you do this?” Sophia’s voice wavered, trembling with fake sweetness as she bit her lip, tears streaming down her face. “You’re upsetting Mom. If you take everything, what will the Stewarts think of our family?” Odalys Stone chuckled coldly, her hand gripping Sophia Bennett’s chin with just enough force to make the other woman flinch. Leaning in, she lowered her voice, her tone dripping with venom. “And just who the hell do you think you are? A nobody foster kid, and you’ve got the balls to come at me?”
Her lips twisted into a smirk, her gaze sharp and mocking.” What do the Stewarts think of you? That’s your problem, not mine.” She added with a scoff, “Jealous, huh? Pathetic little bitch.”
Sophia froze, her eyes wide with disbelief. The insult landed like a slap, and for a moment, she couldn’t even process it. She wanted to lash out, but with the Stewarts’ people watching, she bit her tongue.
All she could do was stomp her foot in frustration, her chest heaving as she struggled to keep her composure.
“Odalys Stone, what the fuck is your problem?” Atlas barked as he stormed forward, his expression dark. He pulled Sophia behind him protectively, glaring at Odalys like he wanted to snap her in half.
Odalys raised a brow, her smirk deepening. Without a word, she turned on her heel and strode toward the door. When she reached it, she pulled a key from her pocket and flung it onto the floor. The sharp clink echoed through the room. Pausing in the doorway, she tossed a cold glance over her shoulder, her voice dripping with mockery. “And what are you gonna do about it? Or better yet, maybe she should be the one marrying instead?”
The room fell into stunned silence as she walked out, her ponytail swishing in time with her confident strides. The Bennetts could only stand there, fuming, as the Stewarts’ bodyguards continued hauling out the extravagant betrothal gifts without a care in the world.
Hannah staggered, her face pale as she watched millions- billions of dollars in gifts disappear.
Her instincts screamed at her to do something, to stop them, but before she could act, Sophia grabbed her wrist in a panic.
“Mom, don’t! She’s just trying to piss you off!” Sophia’s voice cracked, panic lacing her words. “Once she calms down, she’ll bring everything back. She’s just throwing a tantrum-nothing more.”
But even as she said it, doubt flickered in Sophia’s eyes.
The truth was, everyone in Crownridge knew the situation with the Stewarts. Their patriarch was already at death’s door, with the hospital issuing what was essentially a countdown to his final moments.
Years ago, the Stewarts and Bennetts had been close, and the marriage was supposed to strengthen their bond. But now the Stewarts were rushing the wedding to bring some semblance of good fortune to a dying man.
There wouldn’t even be a ceremony. They’d sent the wedding gifts today with plans to take the bride immediately.
The Bennetts, unwilling to let Sophia marry into such a grim situation, had shoved Odalys into the role instead. After all, she’d only recently been found after years of being lost and had no real connection to the family.
The plan was simple: send her off, let her deal with the mess, and once the Stewart patriarch passed, bring her back. It was, in their minds, the perfect solution.
Henry snorted, his tone filled with contempt. “She really thinks she can pull this shit? That’s what happens when you let someone think they’re equal to us. Time to remind her where she stands.”
Caspian leaned lazily against the wall, his lips quirking into a cruel smile. “Relax. Let her have her little moment. Once the bridegroom kicks the bucket, we’ll drag her back here and teach her a lesson she won’t forget. Let’s see if she still thinks she’s hot shit after that.”
But as they watched Odalys climb into the waiting car without so much as a glance back, a cold wind swept through the courtyard, sending a shiver down everyone’s spine.
The atmosphere shifted, the air growing heavy and unnervingly still. For the first time, an inexplicable unease settled over the Bennetts.
In the backseat of the car, Odalys sat quietly, her gaze fixed on the rearview mirror. The Bennett mansion shrank in the distance, shrouded in swirling clouds that seemed to darken the skies around it.
The house looked cursed, like it was being swallowed whole by its own greed and malice.
A soft, bitter laugh escaped her lips as she leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. Her mind was flooded with memories from her past life-memories that stung like open wounds.
She could still feel the humiliation, the betrayal. The people she had once trusted-her own family-had stripped her bare, literally and figuratively.
They’d recorded her, used the footage to blackmail her, and forced her to take Sophia’s place. All for their own selfish gain, all to secure their position with the Stewarts.
Chapter 3
After her death, Odalys’s soul drifted aimlessly, trapped in a limbo that felt endless. She couldn’t move on, couldn’t reincarnate-until an unknown, powerful force yanked her back into the living world, slamming her into a reality she wasn’t sure she wanted.
The memory made her fists clench tightly, her nails biting into her palms as her jaw set with cold determination.
The sleek black car rolled to a stop in front of a sprawling courtyard mansion, its grandeur weighed down by an eerie stillness. The house seemed more like a relic than a home, its walls steeped in secrets and shadows.
“Madam, Mr. Stewart is waiting for you upstairs,” the butler, Dorian Huxley, said as he stepped aside, gesturing politely for her to follow. His tone was calm and measured, but it carried a quiet urgency.
Odalys didn’t respond. She stepped out of the car and into the courtyard, the oppressive silence pressing down on her like a physical weight.
As she crossed the threshold, her gaze swept over the carefully arranged antiques in the living room-each piece meticulous, imposing, and completely lifeless.
Her heels clicked against the polished wood floor as she climbed the stairs, each step reverberating in the stillness. At the top, she paused. A tall figure stood inside the room, his back to her, framed by sunlight filtering through the window. The light scattered across his broad shoulders, softening the harsh lines of his frame.
She couldn’t see his face, but his presence was unmistakable-commanding, unyielding, and suffocating. “You’re Percival Stewart?” she asked, her voice steady, but low and cautious.
The man turned slowly, deliberately. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to freeze. Those eyes were cold, bottomless, and completely detached, like looking into a frozen void.
He held her gaze for a beat longer than necessary before shifting his eyes away, the indifference in his expression sharp enough to cut.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and tense, before he finally spoke.
“This marriage? It’s just my grandfather’s dying wish,” he said, his voice deep and rough, every word laced with disdain. “Don’t waste your time thinking it means anything. There won’t be a ceremony, no legal documents, nothing. Once I’m gone, you’re free to leave.”
The bluntness of his words caught her off guard, but she didn’t flinch. She just stared at him, taking in the man who had been a shadow in the past.
In truth, she knew next to nothing about Percival Stewart. Before her time travel, she had died before the marriage ever happened. All she’d heard was that he was twenty- eight, the head of the Stewart family, and dying from some incurable illness.
Beyond that, he was a mystery-a figure hidden behind the impenetrable walls of the Stewart dynasty.
He was like an invisible king, ruling from the shadows, unchallenged but utterly alone.
Before she could respond, a harsh, violent cough broke the silence. Percival’s tall frame trembled slightly, and the sharp, metallic tang of blood filled the air, cutting through the faint scent of a scented candle burning in the corner. “Mrs. Stewart, perhaps it’s best if you retire to your room,” Dorian said, stepping forward quickly. His voice was polite, but the urgency in his movements was impossible to miss.
Odalys didn’t move. Her sharp gaze stayed locked on Percival, ignoring the butler entirely. She took a step forward, her eyes narrowing as the scent of blood grew stronger. It wasn’t just a hint-it was thick, suffocating, and impossible to ignore.
Percival felt her approach and shot her a warning glare, his expression hardening. “Go back to your room,” he said, his voice rough and authoritative.
He turned abruptly, his steps hurried and uneven as if trying to escape her scrutiny. But just as he moved past her, Odalys reached out and grabbed his arm.
He froze instantly, his body tensing under her touch. He made a move to pull away, but she was faster. Twisting her grip, she held him in place, then reached up and grabbed his collar without hesitation.
The sound of fabric tearing cut through the room like a slap. Percival’s shirt split open, revealing a chest sculpted like stone, his bronze skin catching the fractured sunlight pouring in from the window.
The room fell silent. Even the air seemed to hold its breath. Dorian stood frozen, his jaw slack with shock, his gaze darting between his mentor and the woman who had just ripped his shirt like it was nothing.
No one saw it coming. Odalys, without hesitation, tore open Percival’s shirt with a single, fluid motion. No one had ever dared to get this close to him before-let alone touch him. The speed and boldness of her actions left everyone in the room frozen, mouths agape.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Percival growled, his hand shooting up to clamp around her wrist with an iron grip.
Her wrist was locked in his grasp, but Odalys didn’t so much as flinch. Her eyes stayed locked on his chest, unblinking, studying his skin with laser focus.
Beneath the smooth surface, something was moving- twitching, writhing, almost alive. It looked ready to tear through at any second. His veins bulged unnaturally, pushing against his flesh as though ready to explode. The air grew thick, the metallic tang of blood sharp enough to taste.
Percival’s body was a battleground, wracked with excruciating pain. It felt like shards of glass were tearing through him, breaking him apart piece by piece. His skin stretched taut, veins pulsating beneath it as if threatening to burst, and every nerve in his body screamed for relief.
“Shit,” he hissed through gritted teeth, sweat dripping down his temples. His face had gone pale, his jaw tight as he tried to suppress the pain.
With great effort, he turned his icy glare on Dorian, who was frozen in the doorway, and the bodyguards lingering nearby, too stunned to move. “Take her back to her room,” he ordered, his voice rough but unwavering despite the agony gripping him.
“Yes, sir!” Dorian stammered, snapping into action and rushing toward Odalys, his face pale with fear.
But before Dorian could reach her, Odalys made her move. She ignored the butler completely, her free hand lifting to press lightly against Percival’s chest.
The touch was almost playful, her fingertips tracing slow, deliberate patterns on his skin. Then, without warning, she shoved hard.
Percival froze, his entire body locking up. The moment her hand made contact, it sent a shockwave through him, like a current of electricity surging through his veins.
The chaos beneath his skin-veins ready to rupture, blood cells fighting a violent war-suddenly stilled. The energy that had been raging inside him recoiled, like a storm. abruptly silenced.
His blood, moments away from tearing through his flesh, began to reverse its course. Thickened, frozen, and pushed back as though retreating from an unseen force. His heart seized painfully in his chest.
“Ugh!” The sound ripped from his throat as dark blood spewed from his lips, splattering onto the floor.
The black, foul-smelling liquid dripped from the corner of his mouth, its acrid stench filling the room. He staggered back a step, his pupils blown wide, his body trembling like it was ready to break apart. And then, suddenly, everything stopped.
The agony gripping him moments ago faded to a dull ache. The sharp, relentless pressure vanished. His breathing steadied, his chest no longer heaving in pain.
Slowly, cautiously, he glanced down at his body, expecting to see the usual horrors: split skin, torn veins, blood pouring from open wounds.
But his skin was intact. No ruptures. No shredded flesh. No rivers of blood pooling at his feet. Aside from the dark blood he’d coughed up, he was fine. Whole.
The pain, the chaos, the destruction that had always followed these episodes-it was gone.
Percival’s eyes snapped back to Odalys, shock flickering across his normally stoic face.
She stepped back, her hand falling away as she regarded him with a calm, almost clinical detachment. Her gaze swept over him like she was piecing together a puzzle. “So the rumors are true,” she said, her tone flat and disinterested. “You really are knocking on death’s door.” As she spoke, she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and began wiping her fingers clean. “But since you already made it clear this marriage is just your grandfather’s idea to ‘ward off bad luck, and you don’t actually want to marry me, that works out perfectly. I wasn’t planning on getting married anyway.”
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes sharp and calculating as they locked onto his. “Let me guess. Your doctors told you you’ve got less than a month to live, didn’t they?”
His lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t deny it. Odalys smirked faintly, the corner of her mouth curving upward in a way that was both confident and infuriating. “So, here’s the deal. I’ll keep you alive for the next month. In return, you let me walk away when it’s over. No strings attached.”
Percival’s eyes narrowed, suspicion mingling with disbelief. “You’re saying you can keep me alive for a month?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she replied, her tone as steady as her gaze.
She stepped closer, reaching out again. This time, her fingers brushed against the corner of his mouth, wiping away the blood that still lingered there.
She brought her fingers to her nose, sniffing lightly before speaking again. “You’re not dying as fast as they think. You!
re poisoned badly, but it’s not terminal yet. I can stabilize you. Give you some time.”
With that, she wiped her fingers clean on the handkerchief
and tossed it into a nearby trash can, her movements smooth and deliberate. She met his gaze again, her expression unreadable but unshakable. “Clock’s ticking, Stewart. Your move.”
Chapter 4
Odalys didn’t even glance back at Percival Stewart. Not a flicker of hesitation, not a hint of acknowledgment. Instead, she turned with that effortless grace of hers and fixed her gaze on Dorian. The butler looked like someone had just smacked him with a frying pan.
Her voice, calm and detached, cut through his stupor. Where’s my room? Be a darling and show me the way.”
She wasn’t asking; she was commanding. And it didn’t matter that she was deep in Stewart family territory. Odalys carried herself like she owned every inch of it.
Dorian blinked, struggling to process what he’d just witnessed. After a quick, uncertain glance at Percival, who gave the faintest nod, Dorian’s entire demeanor shifted. Gone was the stunned confusion, replaced by cool professionalism.
“This way, ma’am,” he said, gesturing with the practiced precision of someone who knew better than to ask questions.
Percival, on the other hand, stayed rooted to the spot. Hands clasped loosely behind his back, he watched her walk away, his sharp eyes narrowing as if trying to dissect her piece by piece.
Only when she disappeared around the corner did he lower his gaze to the tattered remnants of his shirt-and the skin beneath it.
The sight stopped him cold. The wounds that had ravaged his body for years-open, festering, and bleeding-were gone. The relentless, searing pain that had become a constant companion? Vanished.
His hand drifted to his chest, tracing the spot where her fingers had brushed against him. The second she’d
touched him, his heart had nearly stopped, like it couldn’t decide if it wanted to keep beating.
“The Bennett girl?” he murmured to himself, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “Huh. That’s new.”
“Mr. Stewart.” The voice cut through his thoughts. Callum Hale was striding toward him, his face a mixture of concern and barely contained panic. “Are you okay? What just happened?”
Percival didn’t answer immediately. His eyes flicked toward the hallway where Odalys had disappeared, his mind still spinning.
Finally, his raspy voice broke the silence. “The poison… It’s suppressed.”
Callum froze mid-step, blinking like he’d misheard. “What?” He let out a low whistle, running a hand through his hair as he started pacing. “Hold up. Suppressed? Are you serious right now? That shit’s been ripping you apart for years, and now-what? She waves her hand, touches you, and poof? Just like that?”
He scoffed. “Percival, no offense, but that sounds like a load of bullshit.”
Percival didn’t respond. His hand lingered on his chest, his mind replaying the moment over and over.
For years, his body had been a battlefield, the poison clawing at him from the inside out. Doctors -some of the best money could buy-had tried and failed to cure him.
Every day was the same cycle: pain, blood, wounds that refused to heal, and then scabs that tore open again. Each time, the intervals got shorter, the pain sharper, the decay more brutal.
The verdict had been unanimous. He was living on
borrowed time, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it. Not even the Stewart family, with all their money and power, had been able to fix it.
That was why his grandfather had gone looking for
answers elsewhere. Desperation had led him to mystics, fortune tellers, anyone who might offer some kind of hope.
And hope had come in the form of an arranged marriage-a union between Percival and a woman whose unique fate could balance his own.
“She came for me,” Percival said suddenly, his voice quiet but firm.
Callum stopped pacing and stared at him. “For you? You think she’s here to kill you?”
The second the words left his mouth, Callum winced. ‘Shit. No, that doesn’t make sense. If she wanted him dead, she wouldn’t have just saved his ass. So… what’s her game?’ he wondered.
“Kill me? Nah, I don’t think that’s her angle. But she knew I was poisoned, suppressed it with one simple move, and had the balls to say she could buy me another month. I’ll play along for now. I want to see how she plans to pull that off,” Percival said, his voice steady, his gaze sharp. Callum Hale frowned, nodding slightly as the logic landed, but his worry lingered. “Mr. Stewart, even the top doctors wouldn’t make that kind of promise. What if she’s the one who poisoned you in the first place?”
Percival didn’t respond right away, his eyes distant. “Look into her,” he finally said, his voice cold and steady.
Callum hesitated for just a second before understanding dawned. With a sharp nod, he replied, “Understood. I’ll get on it now.”
He had barely turned to leave when Dorian entered the room with his usual precise movements. He stopped a few steps away from Percival and respectfully began reporting everything that had happened at the Bennett estate.
Percival’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly as he listened, his voice lowering to a cold drawl. “She took all the wedding gifts?”
“Yes, sir,” Dorian replied. “She also gave me her ID and asked me to open a safety deposit box at the bank to store them.” As he spoke, he pulled out Odalys’s ID and handed it to Percival.
Percival took the ID and studied the photo. Her sharp eyes seemed to glare back at him from the card, almost daring him to underestimate her. He stared at it for a long moment, his thumb lightly brushing the edge of the image.
“Fine,” he said eventually, handing it back to Dorian. “Make sure it’s all stored properly.”
“Yes, sir,” Dorian replied. He turned to leave but stopped abruptly, as though something had been weighing on him. “Mr. Stewart,” he said, his voice quieter this time, “there’s something odd. The bride was supposed to be Sophia Bennett, not this ‘newly rediscovered’ eldest daughter.
“Do you think the Bennetts switched her on purpose, knowing we needed this marriage to… resolve certain issues?”
Dorian hesitated, recalling the tension at the Bennetts’ house. The muffled arguments upstairs, the way everyone avoided eye contact-it all added up to something shady. Percival’s lips curled into a humorless smirk. “The Bennetts are shrewd. They wouldn’t risk a bad deal. Who in their right mind would marry their daughter to a dying man?”
His gaze shifted, almost absently, toward the hallway leading to Odalys’s room.
*****
Inside the bedroom, Odalys paced slowly, taking in the luxurious furnishings. The room was opulent, filled with antique pieces that screamed old money.
It was a world apart from the cramped, forgotten corner she’d been shoved into at the Bennett house.
“Well, damn,” she muttered, a smirk tugging at her lips. From the moment she woke up in this second life, every move she made had been deliberate. Becoming a stand-in bride wasn’t an act of desperation; it was a power play. The Bennetts thought they’d pulled a fast one by sending her, but the joke would be on them. If Percival survived, the Stewart family’s wealth and influence would drive Sophia insane with envy.
And the Bennetts? They’d learn what it meant to play with fire.
Her eyes narrowed as her thoughts shifted to Percival’s condition. She murmured, almost to herself, “But seriously, how does a man like him end up poisoned like that?”
This wasn’t some ordinary poison. Hospitals wouldn’t even know where to start with something like this. The symptoms were brutal-first it flared up once a month, then weekly, then every three days.
By the end, it attacked daily, ripping the body apart until blood vessels burst and death came in the most horrific, agonizing way possible.
This wasn’t just murder-it was annihilation. The poison also rendered its victims sterile, ensuring there’d be no heirs. Whoever had done this wasn’t just after Percival’s life -they wanted to destroy the entire Stewart bloodline.
Odalys’s expression hardened, her eyes turning cold as ice.
She hadn’t saved him out of kindness. No, she wanted answers. Who had done this to him? And why?
At the same time, she’d made sure the Stewarts understood her worth. Even if the Bennetts wanted her gone, the Stewarts wouldn’t let anything happen to her now. She wasn’t foolish enough to think she could do everything on her own. Strength wasn’t about refusing help-it was about using the tools and allies at your disposal. Anything else was just stupidity.
Her phone buzzed, dragging her out of her thoughts. She frowned and picked it up, answering without checking the caller ID.
The voice on the other end was sharp and accusatory. ” Odalys, what the hell did you do to Sophia?”
Odalys blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Excuse me?” She glanced at the screen, and her expression darkened when she saw the name: Finnian Lark.
The sound of his voice sent a rush of bitter memories crashing over her. Finnian, the man who’d haunted her past life. Cold, distant, always dangling just enough affection to keep her hooked. He’d broken her piece by piece, twisted her mind until she couldn’t tell up from down.
And when the Bennetts had forced her into marriage, he hadn’t lifted a finger to stop it. She’d resisted, of course. They’d punished her for it-humiliated her, stripped her of her dignity, and recorded the entire thing to control her. Her eventual death? Finnian hadn’t held the knife, but he’d sharpened it.
Chapter 5
At the end of Odalys’s life back then, depression had consumed her like a monster in the dark, robbing her of sleep and hope.
Now, as she gripped her phone, her fingers clenched so tightly it felt like the device might shatter, her mind was a storm of thoughts.
“It’s just one damn month as a stand-in bride! Nobody’s asking you to lay down your life for her! Why the hell did you have to go that far? What-because she’s adopted and got in your way?” Finnian’s voice was sharp, his frustration slicing through the air, completely shattering his usual calm and collected facade.
“I already told you once: you stand in and get this done, and he’s gone, I’ll be your boyfriend. What the hell else do you want?” he snapped, his teeth practically grinding together.
“Pfft.” A derisive laugh escaped her lips.
His words were so ridiculous that it was almost entertaining, like watching a poorly scripted drama. She couldn’t help but wonder how she’d ever fallen for his second-rate charm and manipulative games in the past.
“What the hell are you laughing at?” Finnian barked, clearly pissed.
Odalys didn’t answer right away. She stood slowly, walking to the window. Her gaze swept over the manicured garden below, fingers brushing a potted plant by the sill.
Her tone, when she finally spoke, was cold enough to freeze. “Who do you think you are? What makes you think I stood in for this marriage because of you? Where do you even get the balls to believe that? You’re harassing me right now. Got it?”
“And let me guess,” she continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You thought, after my husband dies, I’d crawl back to you? What kind of delusional world are you living in? Newsflash: I’m the Stewart family’s young madam now.
“You? You’re just a nobody. Or wait, let me guess-you’re hoping I’ll inherit some of my husband’s wealth after he’s gone, and then you can swoop in and mooch off me? Honestly, I have to admire the audacity.”
“You’re so full of shit,” Finnian shot back, his voice shaking with barely contained rage. “Do you really think I’m that shallow? Odalys, you’re out of line. If you keep spewing this garbage, we’re done. No ties. Nothing.”
She smirked, her tone mockingly sweet. “Done? Oh, thank God. Do me a favor and stop calling. Go play white knight for Sophia. Maybe she’ll even agree to marry you. You’re such a pathetic simp.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. Sophia, with her sickly sweet “innocent” act, probably wanted to please. Every man on earth-but a guy like Finnian? Not a chance.
To families like the Stewarts, celebrities like him were nothing more than entertainment, disposable and forgettable.
For a moment, Finnian was silent, clearly stunned by her words. When he finally spoke, his voice was trembling. ” Odalys, I’ll give you one last chance.”
“Don’t bother.” Her tone was icy. “Even if you were gift-wrapped and delivered to my door, I wouldn’t take you. Keep harassing me, and I’ll spill all your dirty little secrets for the world to see.” Without waiting for his response, she ended the call with a sharp click.
She glanced at her phone, checking the recording she’d started at the beginning of the call. Satisfied, she quickly uploaded it to the cloud and backed it up to her email.
“Hah.” A bitter laugh escaped her as she rubbed her temples.
Thinking about how naive and weak she had been before, manipulated by people she should’ve seen through, made her blood boil.
The sound snapped her out of her thoughts. Taking a breath, she composed herself and walked to the door. Standing there was Percival. Fresh from a shower, he’d traded his earlier bloodied look for casual black loungewear, the fabric fitting him in all the right places.
The faint scent of mint lingered around him, masking the memory of blood and pain.
Percival towered over her, his eyes scanning her face with quiet intensity. For a moment, Odalys blinked, surprised to see him there.
Then, tilting her chin up slightly, she met his gaze head-on.” Percival? Do you need something?”
Her voice was calm, her posture steady. She wasn’t intimidated by his presence-if anything, she seemed almost bored.
Percival’s lips curved into the faintest of smirks. Most people stammered, bowed, or outright avoided his gaze. But she stared right back, unapologetic and unafraid. “You took one look at me and knew I was poisoned. How?” His voice was low, gravelly, and unyielding. “And how did you know how to suppress it?”
Odalys tucked her hands behind her back, studying him as she replied. The directness of his question told her he’d already tested the medicine she’d prepared-and probably had someone analyze it, too.
“That’s simple,” she said with a light smile. “I’ve studied traditional medicine.” Her tone was breezy, almost playful, as she stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. Percival hesitated for a moment, his tall frame casting a long shadow into the room. Then, without a word, he stepped inside, his movements slow and deliberate. His presence seemed to fill the space, the air around him thick with an understated but magnetic energy.
Odalys stood there, calm as ever, her every move deliberate. With an almost lazy grace, she tied her long hair back, her tone steady but tinged with quiet confidence.
“My mentor’s one of the best in holistic medicine and alternative therapies,” she said, her tone casual. “A legit mentor of metaphysics and traditional medicine. I’ve been learning from him since I was three- that’s seventeen years in total.”
She didn’t wait for his response before continuing, her voice dropping just slightly. “You reek of blood. Even if your blood vessels haven’t burst yet, it’s written all over you. I can sense it through your skin. And your blood? It’s got an odd, unnatural smell. That’s how I knew you were poisoned.”
There was no hesitation, no need to hide anything. She spoke about her Taoist roots like it was her badge of honor, not something to downplay.
Percival’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, a small crack in his usual impassive mask. Seventeen years? That was unexpected.
“You can treat it?” he asked, turning to fully face her. His sharp gaze locked onto hers, unblinking, demanding answers.
Her eyes met his head-on, calm and unwavering. There was a depth to them, like looking into still water that somehow felt bottomless. No fear, no hesitation-just that same unshakable composure.
“Treat it?” She repeated, her lips curling into a faint smile. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. What I can do is suppress it for now. I can buy you another month, maybe six.”
The casual way she said it made his brow furrow. The best doctors in the world couldn’t even promise him another week.
Yet here she was, tossing out timelines like it was nothing. If he hadn’t seen her suppress the poison earlier with his own eyes, he would’ve walked out right then.
But he had seen it.
Her words landed hard, like the first breath of fresh air after being suffocated. For someone who had already made peace with death, her calm certainty hit him in a way he hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t hope-not yet. But it was close. His hands curled into fists at his sides, the tension so strong his knuckles turned white. But his face stayed calm, his body radiating that same powerful aura that made people think twice before challenging him. If there was any crack in his armor, it wasn’t visible-not yet.
“What’s your price?” he asked, his voice low and steady, cutting straight to the point.
Odalys leaned back, her tall frame resting casually against the edge of a nearby table. She crossed her arms, her sharp gaze never leaving his as she tilted her head slightly, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
“For now? Let’s just say you owe me a favor,” she said, her voice light but laced with something unspoken. “But I’ll need something specific. Herbs. Old ones. At least a hundred years old. The older, the better.”
She turned and walked to her bag, pulling out a small notebook and pen. Sitting down, she began to write quickly, the pen moving with an almost effortless precision. Once done, she tore the page out and handed it to him.
Percival took it, glancing down at the paper. Her
handwriting was bold and precise, every stroke sharp and deliberate. It wasn’t just neat-it had a kind of energy, a power that made it stand out.
“Fine,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse but firm. His grip on the paper tightened, the list feeling heavier than it should have.
She was more than he’d expected. The ease with which she’d rattled off the list, her calm certainty-it all pointed to a level of knowledge far beyond what he had anticipated.
Whether she was the real deal or just an exceptionally good liar, he’d find out soon enough. All he had to do was verify the herbs on her list.
Chapter 6
Everyone said Percival was a goner. Terminal. A man circling the drain, lucky if he saw out the month. But her reaction was cool as a cucumber, like none of it mattered.
And yet, Odalys’s words landed like a punch to the gut, leaving him shaken in a way he hadn’t expected.
His throat moved as he swallowed hard, giving her a small nod. His voice was low, steady. “Settle in. Make yourself comfortable. If you need anything, talk to Dorian. Whatever it is, they’ll sort it out. No fuss.”
With that, Percival turned and strode toward the door, his broad shoulders cutting a path of unshakable authority.
Odalys tilted her head, her gaze following him as he walked away. Surprise flickered in her eyes, quick but
unmistakable.
She’d been ready for him to push back, maybe even scoff at her audacity. Her words, that list-either should’ve sparked questions. But he hadn’t even blinked. He’d taken it all at face value, trusting her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
‘What kind of man does that? Calm under pressure, rock- solid, the picture of maturity,’ she thought. He wasn’t anything like the flashy, spoiled heirs she’d come across before.
But that kind of composure wasn’t just strength-it hinted at something deeper. This was a man with layers, sharp as a knife, and just as dangerous.
In truth, she barely remembered Percival. Back then, she hadn’t even lived long enough to meet him. She’d died before their arranged marriage could take place.
All she knew was what people said: the Stewart family was untouchable, the pinnacle of wealth and power in Crownridge. But their empire had started crumbling under the weight of Percival’s illness.
Had he recovered in the end? She honestly had no clue.
Her gaze lingered on the door for a moment longer before she let out a small breath and dropped onto the bed.
The peace didn’t last. Her phone buzzed-a sharp ding, then another, then another. Notifications poured in like a storm, each one more biting than the last. Every single message was from the Bennetts.
Some demanded explanations. [Why’d you piss off Hannah Bennett? Why’d you take the betrothal gifts?]
Others didn’t even bother with pretense, accusing her outright: [You bullied Sophia to the point of attempting suicide. What kind of monster are you?]
Odalys stared at the screen, her face emotionless. Inside, she felt nothing. Whatever ties she’d once had to the Bennetts had died right along with her.
But these messages? They weren’t just noise. They were a cold reminder: breaking free from the Bennetts wasn’t just about walking away. If she wanted her freedom, she’d have to burn every last bridge.
Without missing a beat, she dialed her assistant. “It’s me. Since joining the Bennett Group, how many contracts have l signed?”
The response was immediate, curt, and dripping with disdain. “Contracts? Oh, you mean those insurance forms? Just a few, nothing major.”
Her chest tightened. Memories surfaced, hazy but
undeniable. She’d signed papers when she first returned to the Bennett family, believing they were standard insurance forms. But now, the truth was glaringly obvious.
“Send me copies of everything I’ve signed,” she said, her voice sharp enough to cut.
The assistant let out an audible sigh before the call ended abruptly. A few minutes later, her inbox pinged with an email.
Odalys opened the file, her fingers trembling. She skimmed through the documents, her heart sinking deeper with every line she read. They erer the high-value accident insurance policies. And the beneficiary was always the same: Sophia Bennett.
Her breath hitched. If something happened to her-an accident, a “tragedy”-Sophia would walk away with a staggering 70 million dollars. She felt cold all over. In her past, she’d gone to her grave without ever knowing any of this.
All those times they’d pushed her, cornered her, and humiliated her? That wasn’t about the wedding. They didn’t want her married. They wanted her dead.
It all made sense now. From the moment she stepped foot back into the Bennett household, they’d never planned on letting her walk out alive.
Her chest tightened, a dull ache that had nothing to do with shock. It was heartbreak, plain and simple. These weren’t strangers; they were her parents. Her real parents.
‘But why? Why the hell would they do this?’ The thought burned in her mind, relentless and bitter. ‘I’m their daughter, their real, flesh-and-blood daughter. The one they spent years searching for. What could possibly justify this kind of betrayal? Is it really all about the damn money?’
Her hand trembled as she opened the final document-the contract she’d signed with Bennett Entertainment. The terms were clear: the agreement was set to expire in two weeks. But if she wanted out early, she’d owe them a jaw- dropping billion in damages.
“Damn it!” Odalys bolted upright from the bed, her blood boiling. The Bennetts’ shamelessness was infuriating enough, but what really stung was how stupid she’d been in the past. Gullible. Naive. A sitting duck for their schemes.
Her phone buzzed, cutting through her rage. She snatched it up, and her assistant’s flat tone greeted her. “We’ve got you signed up for a variety show. You start tomorrow. By the time it’s done, your contract will be up.”
Odalys’s eyes narrowed. The words variety show sent a prickle of unease through her. She wasn’t dumb enough to think this was just a coincidence…
But break the contract? Not a chance. 300 million-dollar penalty was one thing, but she wasn’t giving the Bennetts even a single cent.
Throwing her into a show right after an arranged marriage? The setup was obvious. They were baiting her into a trap. But Odalys’ jump in willingly-then flip the table on them. “Send me the details,” she said, her voice frosty. The assistant barely acknowledged her before hanging up. Minutes later, her inbox pinged. She opened the
attachment, skimming through the information. Her brows arched slightly. This wasn’t just any variety show-it was a survival program.
Celebrities dumped on a deserted island with minimal. supplies, their struggles broadcast live. Basically, a glorified Survivor.
Her gaze caught on an attached document detailing an accident insurance policy. The payout was massive. A cold smile tugged at her lips. She quickly backed up the files to her email, her eyes gleaming with mockery.
“So that’s your plan,” she murmured to herself. “Marry me off, then ship me to an island where I can conveniently’ disappear.’ Nice try, Bennetts.”
The pieces of their plan clicked into place, as clear as day.
For the past seven months, the Bennetts hadn’t treated her as human. They hadn’t supported her, hadn’t cared for her- they’d only seen dollar signs.
Signing her to their company had never been about her career. It was about setting her up to fail, to breach her contract so they could pocket the penalties.
And she’d fallen for it. Like a fool, she’d stayed. She’d even agreed to the marriage. And now this? Signing her up for this show was nothing but a death sentence, with the insurance money as their reward.
The sheer audacity almost made her laugh. They were desperate to get rid of her, but Odalys wasn’t the same naive girl they’d played before.
Oddly enough, her mood lifted. ‘If they want a game, I’ll play. Let’s see who wins.’
Smirking, she lay back down, letting the quiet room soothe her anger. Within minutes, she drifted into a surprisingly peaceful sleep.
*****
Meanwhile, sunlight poured into the side hall of the Stewart estate, streaking the table with golden warmth. The room’s calm, vintage charm was abruptly disrupted by hurried footsteps.
A man stormed in, clutching a stack of papers that trembled in his hand. “What the hell is this prescription? Where’d you get it? I showed it to my grandfather-he says it works.”
“This isn’t something your average quack could come up with,” he continued, his voice laced with urgency. “It won’t cure the poison, but it can suppress it for now.”
He slapped the documents onto the table and leaned forward, his excitement barely contained.
Percival sat across from him, silent. His long fingers tapped a slow rhythm against the surface of the table.
“And another thing,” the man added, his voice rising. “Your blood test results-they show the toxin’s been partially neutralized. No way around it-whoever did this is a fucking genius.
“The poison was already in your bloodstream, and they still managed to knock it back. Do you even know how insane that is?”
Orson Lark’s tone grew louder, his excitement palpable. They said you wouldn’t last the month. But now? Hell, man, you’ve got a shot. You might actually pull through, Percival.”
Percival’s gaze dropped to the test results in his hand, his expression calm but unreadable. After a long moment, he reached for his iPad, handing it over to Orson.
Chapter 7
Orson grabbed the iPad with a confused look, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the screen.
The surveillance footage showed a tall woman striding up to Percival. Without hesitation, she grabbed his shirt, tore it open, and pressed a finger firmly to his chest.
“Wait, is that… acupoint manipulation?” Orson blurted, his eyes going wide as hell. “I’ve read about this in one of my grandpa’s ancient books. No way.”
To anyone else, it might’ve looked like she was pulling some wild stunt to seduce Percival. But Orson’s sharp gaze followed every precise movement of her fingers. The realization hit him like a freight train. He shot up from the sofa, his expression frozen somewhere between shock and disbelief.
“Who the hell still knows this stuff? My grandpa barely even heard of it-said you’d need decades of training, not just flipping through some dusty old books. How does she know it?” Orson shoved the iPad in Percival’s direction, pointing at the screen like it was on fire.
His voice dropped to a low, urgent tone. “She’s targeting four key blood vessels in your chest. This technique forces. The blood to reverse flow.”
“Think back-did your chest feel tight? Like you were gonna cough up a lung full of clotted blood?” Orson’s voice shook slightly as he added, “Her moves probably canceled out the reverse flow, dissolving whatever poison was left in your bloodstream. This is next-level shit.”
Percival sat as still as a statue, his broad frame tense. His fingers drummed lightly on the armrest, but his sharp eyes flickered with surprise.
“Who is she? I need to see her,” Orson demanded, his voice rising with barely contained urgency.
Before Percival could respond, Callum Hale walked in briskly, a stack of documents in hand. “Mr. Stewart, we’ve got something,” he said, placing the papers in front of him.
Percival flipped through them quickly. Orson leaned over, his eyes scanning the name printed at the top. His brows furrowed in confusion. “Odalys Stone? Who the hell is that?”
Callum met his gaze, lowering his voice like he was sharing state secrets. “The bride. For the blessing.”
Orson blinked. “I thought it was supposed to be someone from the Bennett family. This woman doesn’t even have their last name.”
He grabbed the documents for a closer look, then glanced back at the iPad. Replaying the footage, he jabbed a finger at the tall figure on the screen. “Wait a damn minute. That’s her, isn’t it? Your bride?”
Callum nodded, deadpan. “That’s her.”
Orson stared at him like he’d just grown a second head, then collapsed back onto the sofa. “Holy shit.” He grabbed his coffee cup, downed half of it, then muttered, “You’re telling me this actually worked? This blessing crap is real? What kind of black magic is this?”
Callum’s expression darkened slightly. ‘I’ve been looking into her background, but apparently I missed the real story, he thought.
“She went missing when she was three and was found seventeen years later?” Percival’s deep voice broke the silence, his dark eyes scanning the papers intently. “And she’s only been back with the Bennetts for seven months?” “Exactly,” Callum confirmed quickly. “She came back seven months ago and signed a contract with the Bennett Group almost immediately to become an actress.”
“The Bennetts have been keeping it ridiculously low-key, like they don’t want anyone finding out,” Callum added, suspicion lacing his words. “And their company’s circling the drain right now. Maybe they’re hoping to cash in on her success.”
Orson let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Weird as hell. Your old man wanted to marry you off to the Bennetts, right? But they’ve only got one daughter, Sophia Bennett. So why send in this random chick? What’s their game?”
“Seriously, are they just throwing a stand-in at you, hoping you’re too sick to notice?” He leaned forward, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Think about it. If the blessing worked, they’d lock in a deal with your family.
“If it didn’t, nobody would even know she’s their real daughter. No harm, no foul. Fucking ruthless.”
Percival’s expression darkened further. “No wonder she insisted on taking all the wedding gifts with her,” he muttered under his breath.
His words hit like a thunderclap. Orson froze mid-sip, while Callum’s jaw tightened.
Percival’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest, his gaze as sharp as a blade. The oppressive silence in the room was enough to make Callum’s skin crawl. Something serious was coming-he could feel it in his bones.
Callum straightened immediately, the weight of the moment not lost on him. “What’s the mission, Mr. Stewart?” He’d worked for Percival for fifteen years and knew better than to ask unnecessary questions. When Percival gave him that look, it meant he had a job to do.
At just twenty-eight, Percival had cemented his reputation as the unshakable head of the Stewart family. Ruthless, calculating, and decisive, he ruled not just the business world but also carried the weight of the family’s political and military legacy.
He wasn’t just feared-he was respected in a way that left little room for rebellion.
“The Bennetts once had a good relationship with my grandfather,” Percival said, his voice calm but icy. “Now, despite his insistence on this arranged marriage for good fortune, they’ve sent us someone who doesn’t even bear their name. It’s an insult.”
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle before continuing. “Tell them this: if they won’t honor their promise, then the bond between the Stewart and Bennett families ends here. We owe them nothing.”
The finality in his tone was enough to send a chill down Callum’s spine. He exchanged a glance with Orson, who, true to form, couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
With a smirk playing on his lips, Orson leaned forward and asked, “Wait, hold up-you’re stepping in for her? Since when do you play the knight in shining armor?”
Percival had always kept his hands clean of petty family drama. He barely gave a damn about anything outside his own domain.
It wasn’t hard to connect the dots. Percival’s move wasn’t just about severing ties; it was about making sure the Bennetts knew their games wouldn’t fly. If they thought they could use this marriage as leverage or stir up trouble later, they were in for a rude awakening.
“For her?” Percival’s tone was cold enough to freeze the air. Not quite. She neutralized the poison in my system. Whether or not I survive, the Stewart family owes her for that.
“And since the Bennetts clearly don’t value her, and she doesn’t even share their name, there’s no marriage to discuss. They’ve never publicly acknowledged her, have they?”
The Stewarts weren’t in the habit of throwing their weight around unnecessarily, but they sure as hell didn’t take shit from anyone. If the Bennetts thought they could play both sides, Percival was about to shut that down for good.
Orson let out a low whistle, leaning back with a thoughtful nod. “You’ve got a point. The Bennetts are trying to have it both ways. Cutting them off now saves a lot of hassle- keeps them from pulling the ‘old friends’ card when they need a favor later.”
Percival rose without another word, his movements deliberate and unhurried. Orson blinked, then scrambled to his feet. “Whoa, whoa, where are you going? Wait for me, I’m not missing this.”
*****
Odalys had just started to drift off when muffled voices from outside pulled her back to reality. She frowned, tilting her head toward the door, but the soundproofing in the room turned the conversation into indistinct murmurs. Whatever was going on, it didn’t sound peaceful..
Her phone buzzed, the vibration startling in the silence. She glanced at the screen-Hannah Bennett.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she swiped to reject the call and tossed the phone onto the bedside table.
Chapter 8
Odalys’s phone rang again, the tone sharp and grating. She scowled at the screen, her finger hovering over the block button. But after a moment’s hesitation, she answered.
Before she could speak, a shrill, cutting voice burst through the line. “Odalys Stone! Who the hell do you think you are, ignoring my calls? You think just because you married into the Stewart family, you’re suddenly untouchable?” “Don’t forget, without the Bennett family’s help, you’d still be a nobody. We gave you this opportunity, and you should damn well be grateful,” she continued, her words sharp enough to draw blood. “Now, listen up. Your brother has a project that needs funding.
“You’ll get the Stewarts to invest 250 million dollars. Did you hear me?”
Odalys froze for a moment, disbelief flickering across her face. The audacity left her momentarily speechless.
It had barely been four hours since she’d severed ties with the Bennetts, and now they were demanding she squeeze money out of the Stewart family.
250 million. Hannah made it sound like pocket change.
“Mrs. Bennett,” Odalys said finally, her voice cold enough to frost over. “If I remember correctly, we’ve already cut ties. What makes you think I owe you anything, let alone convince the Stewart family to invest in your ridiculous project?”
Her tone sharpened, every word precise and biting. “And let me be clear-I’m with the Stewart family now. If you have any sense, you’ll stay the hell out of my way.”
Normally, Odalys wasn’t one to lash out, but Hannah had pushed her too far.
“You ungrateful little brat!” Hannah screeched, her voice climbing to a pitch that could shatter glass. “You think you can talk back to me just because you’ve grown some wings? Don’t forget, your brother got you that spot on the variety show!
“Do you know how hard it is to get into a program with A-list stars? We gave you that opportunity! If you keep this up, I’ll make sure you’re blacklisted in the industry. Let’s see how far you get without us.”
Odalys let out a short, cold laugh. Her lips curved into a mocking smile, dimples softening her otherwise sharp expression. She turned slightly, letting the breeze from the open window lift her hair, her eyes glinting with amusement.
“Blacklist me?” she said, her tone light, almost amused. “Go ahead. In fact, don’t bother waiting-I’m not going to tomorrow’s taping anyway.”
The silence on the other end was deafening, then came an eruption of furious yelling. Odalys could faintly hear other voices in the background, likely her family scrambling to figure out what went wrong. They’d clearly expected her to fall in line, not flip the entire table.
“You’re going, and that’s final!” Hannah barked, her voice trembling with rage. “And bring back the wedding gifts you took this morning!”
There it was. The real reason for the call. Hannah might’ve pretended the investment was the priority, but it was the wedding gifts that had her truly losing her mind.
After realizing the value of the items Odalys had taken, worth a staggering 300 million dollars-they’d decided they couldn’t let her keep them. Those gifts weren’t just about money-they were leverage.
If the Bennetts could tie those gifts to the Stewarts, they’d gain status and open doors they’d never been able to touch before.
The Stewarts were a global powerhouse, their connections a golden ticket in any circle. The Bennetts wanted that ticket desperately, but they weren’t willing to sacrifice Sophia, their golden child.
“Wedding gifts?” Odalys’s voice turned icy, her smile growing colder. “Sure. Come and get them yourself.”
Before Hannah could respond, Odalys ended the call with a flick of her finger. She stared at the phone for a moment, her face calm but her chest tight.
For all her outward indifference, Hannah’s words had struck a nerve. The betrayal and entitlement of her so-called family left a bitter taste, a reminder that they’d only ever seen her as a pawn.
“If they want a fight, I’ll give them one,” she muttered, her voice firm. Rising to her feet, she quickly got ready, her every movement sharp and deliberate. She wasn’t going to let the Bennetts have the last word.
As she descended the grand staircase, Dorian appeared, his posture straight and professional.
“Mrs. Stewart, are you heading out?” he asked respectfully. His tone held a new layer of caution, born from witnessing her suppress Percival’s poison earlier.
If she could save him, she was no longer just a Stewart by marriage-she was a potential savior for the entire family. “Yes,” Odalys replied, her tone clipped but calm. “I need to visit the Bennett family. Arrange a car for me.” Public transportation wasn’t an option, of course, not for the Stewarts’ young madam.
“Right away, Mrs. Stewart,” Dorian said with a bow. He moved quickly, ensuring that the newest, most luxurious car in the garage was brought around. The Stewart family spared no expense, even for a short trip.
Minutes later, the sleek, limited-edition car pulled up to the estate’s entrance. As soon as Odalys stepped into the car, the driver headed straight for the Bennett residence.
*****
Inside, the house was buzzing with laughter and lighthearted chatter. When Odalys walked in, she was greeted by the sight of Sophia clinging to Atlas’s arm, pouting like a spoiled princess.
“Atlas, I want more!” Sophia whined, drawing out her words like a child angling for candy.
Atlas chuckled indulgently, like her antics were the highlight of his day. He patted her head affectionately and grabbed a tissue to dab at the corner of her mouth.
“Alright, one more,” he said softly, picking up a strawberry and holding it to her lips. He even wiped the juice off her chin with practiced care.
“You’re the best, Atlas,” Sophia said with a wide, sweet smile, her eyes practically sparkling with admiration.
At that moment, Hannah Bennett walked in carrying a plate of steaming pumpkin soup. She beamed at Sophia like she was looking at her pride and joy. “Sophia, sweetheart, come drink this. I made it just for you-it’ll keep your strength up.”
Sophia wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Mom, I don’t want it. What if it makes me fat? I have to keep my figure! After the variety show, I’m going straight into filming,” she said, crossing her arms like a child refusing her vegetables.
Hannah wasn’t about to let her off the hook. She blew gently on the soup and brought the bowl closer. “Don’t be silly. That show must’ve worn you out. If you don’t take care of yourself, where will you get the energy? Just drink it, okay?”
Before Sophia could argue, Hannah’s gaze landed on the doorway. Her smile vanished instantly, replaced by a scowl as her eyes locked on Odalys.
With a loud clunk, she slammed the plate onto the coffee table. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the cheery atmosphere like a knife. “So, you finally decided to come back? Did you bring the wedding gifts?”
Sophia jumped up from the sofa, her bare feet hitting the floor as she rushed outside to check. Her gaze darted around the driveway, but all she saw was the sleek luxury car parked at the entrance-no gifts in sight.
“Odalys, where are the gifts?” she demanded, her voice trembling with barely contained anger. “You didn’t bring them back? Weren’t you just a stand-in bride? How could you keep our family’s wedding gifts for yourself?”
Her eyes reddened as she stared daggers at the car. That car, still unreleased and ridiculously expensive, had Odalys’s name written all over it. ‘Why does she get everything?’ she thought bitterly. ‘It should all be mine!’
“What the hell are you playing at, Odalys?” Hannah snapped from the sofa, her tone dripping with condescension. She straightened her posture, clearly trying to assert some kind of authority, but her words only carried disdain.
Odalys didn’t respond. Her eyes narrowed, cold and calculating, as they locked on Hannah. Without a word, she began walking toward her with measured, deliberate steps, the soft click of her heels echoing in the suddenly tense room.
Hannah instinctively shrank back, her earlier confidence visibly faltering. Atlas, sensing trouble, stepped forward, his face darkening as he moved to block Odalys’s path. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, his voice low and hard.
“Move,” Odalys said, her voice so cold it sent chills down his spine.
When he didn’t move fast enough, she didn’t hesitate. Her knee shot up, slamming into his stomach with a brutal efficiency that left him winded.
Atlas stumbled back, landing heavily on the sofa with a loud grunt, one hand clutching his abdomen in pain. twisted his features.
Odalys didn’t even spare him a glance. Her focus remained locked on Hannah, who was now pale and visibly panicking.
“What are you doing, Odalys?” Hannah stammered, her voice shaky and desperate. “Don’t you dare touch me, or I swear-“
Before she could finish, Odalys reached out, her hand snapping forward to grab the delicate chain around Hannah’s neck. With a sharp tug, the necklace broke, the sound ringing out like a slap.
Chapter 9
The rope bit cruelly into her neck, leaving an angry red mark. The emerald pendant that had once hung there was now ripped away, clenched tightly in Odalys’s hand.
“Odalys! Are you fucking insane? How dare you steal from me?” Hannah’s voice was shrill, her perfectly made-up face contorted with rage. The fury etched every wrinkle onto her forehead like an accusation.
Odalys cast a cold glance at the pendant resting in her palm before shoving it into her bag without a second thought. “Steal from you? Don’t make me laugh.
“This pendant was my mentor’s gift to me-a protective charm. I gave it to you out of kindness, but that doesn’t mean it ever belonged to you. My mistake was thinking you were worth it.”
Her lips curled into a sharp, bitter smirk. “You don’t deserve it now.”
This pendant wasn’t just jewelry-it was blessed, carrying the energy of protection. Her mentor had kept it close for over twenty years to ward off harm.
When Odalys returned to the Bennett family and saw the dark shadow hanging over Hannah’s face, she had handed it over without hesitation. That pendant had saved Hannah’ s life.
And how had Hannah repaid her? By forcing her into a proxy marriage and scheming against her at every turn. Enough was enough. Odalys wasn’t going to let them walk all over her anymore.
“You ungrateful brat!” Hannah shrieked, her chest heaving.” I’m your mother! How dare you talk to me like that? Do you want to be part of this family or not?”
Her glare was sharp and venomous, filled with the kind of hatred that felt colder than ice. Odalys realized then that the chasm between them wasn’t something words could bridge. This wasn’t just family drama-it was war.
“Do you think I care?” Odalys shot back, her voice like steel.
You abandoned me, threw me into a marriage I didn’t want, and now you think I’d crawl back to you? You think you’re worth it?”
Her smirk deepened, a bitter edge to her expression. For the first time, she truly accepted it-this family didn’t love her, never had. The pain she thought she’d feel wasn’t there anymore. Only clarity.
“Odalys, you’ve gone too far!” Atlas stormed into the room, stepping between her and Hannah like some kind of hero. His expression was full of anger, his voice dripping with disdain.
“Odalys,” Sophia chimed in, her voice trembling, her eyes watery as if she were on the verge of tears. “You already took the bride price this morning-wasn’t that enough? Now you’re here to take Mom’s pendant? Why are you doing this to her? She’s always been so good to you.”
But Odalys caught the flicker in Sophia’s eyes-a flash of malice and satisfaction buried beneath the crocodile tears. It was quick, almost imperceptible, but she’d seen it. Once upon a time, she might have fallen for it. Now? Not a chance.
Sophia’s little performance only fanned the flames. “I should’ve strangled you at birth, you ungrateful b!” Hannah spat, her voice cracking with fury.
Odalys stared at her mother, a calm, icy smile tugging at her lips. “Strangled me? For what? Let’s not rewrite history here. I was missing for 17 years, and none of you even bothered to look for me. I’ve been back for seven months, and not once have you treated me like family.
“Seven months of running errands for your precious son, working at your company for free, cleaning up after everyone in this house while your maids sat on their asses -and I didn’t get a single word of thanks.
“When I first came back and you were so sick you couldn’t even remember your own name, who stayed up all night by your side, taking care of you? You’re quick to throw around accusations, but where were you when I needed a mother?” Her voice was calm, but each word hit like a knife. The room fell silent. Even Caspian, who had just walked in, froze at the top of the stairs, his expression unreadable. “You’re right about one thing, though.” Odalys let out a cold, humorless laugh. “I must be ungrateful. Otherwise, why would I have given my mentor’s protective pendant to someone like you? Turns out, you don’t fucking deserve it.” She wasn’t angry anymore. If anything, the whole thing felt absurd. Their so-called family ties? Severed long ago. This wasn’t a confrontation-it was a formality, a moment she’d forget about as soon as she walked out the door.
The only reason she’d even come back for the pendant was because of Hannah’s relentless calls, each one more vicious than the last. That pendant had saved Hannah’s life once, shielding her during her darkest days.
Without it, she might not have survived to stand here, screaming accusations and playing the victim.
“Odalys Stone! Are you out of your mind? I’m your mother! How dare you talk to me like that? Do you even want to come back to the Bennett family?” Hannah’s voice was shrill, her chest rising and falling with fury. For a moment, it seemed like she might keel over.
Odalys watched the tremor in her body, the haze in her eyes, and for some inexplicable reason, she felt a flicker of satisfaction.
‘Life has a twisted sense of humor, doesn’t it? You could fight fate all you want, but in the end, you will only exhaust yourself, she thought.
“Don’t bother showing me the door. From now on, I wouldn’t come back to the Bennett house even if you rolled out a red carpet,” she said, her tone breezy, almost mocking, as she turned to leave.
But her steps were cut short by a towering figure blocking her path-her brother, Henry. His anger was palpable, radiating off him like a thunderstorm. He stood there, his broad shoulders casting a long shadow, his eyes fixed on her with a cold, unwavering fury.
“Move,” she said, her voice like ice. She sidestepped, but his hand shot out, grabbing her arm with a grip so tight it felt like he might snap her bones.
“Apologize,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding.” Apologize to Mom. Right now.”
Odalys turned her head slowly, fixing him with a stare that oozed contempt, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Odalys,” Henry growled, his voice darker now, heavy with warning. “Don’t push me. I’m only saying this once more: apologize to Mom and return the Stewart family’s wedding gifts. Or else-“
Before he could finish, her palm connected with his face in a sharp, echoing slap. His head snapped to the side, and the room went deathly silent.
Henry staggered slightly, his gold-rimmed glasses flying off and landing with a clatter on the floor. A bright red handprint bloomed across his cheek.
The other Bennetts stared at her, their eyes wide with shock. The Odalys they knew would’ve never dared raise her voice, let alone her hand. But the woman standing before them now? She looked untouchable, fierce. “You’re unbelievable, Henry,” Odalys sneered, her voice sharp enough to cut. “Thick-skinned, entitled, and delusional. No wonder you’re next in line to run this circus. Who the hell do you think you are to stand there and bark orders at me? And don’t even get me started on your little fantasy about the Stewart family’s gifts.”
Her gaze locked onto his, cold and unrelenting. “Listen carefully. My name is Odalys Stone. I’m not a Bennett, and I sure as hell don’t belong to this family anymore. So don’t you dare think you can tell me what to do.”
She stepped back and stomped her heel onto the fallen glasses, the satisfying crunch of shattering glass
punctuating her words. Without missing a beat, she turned toward the door.
“And stop fucking calling me,” she threw over her shoulder before striding out.
Just as she reached the foyer, Caspian descended the stairs. He took one look at her defiant posture, her head held high, and something in him snapped. His face darkened, and he stormed toward her, his fist clenched and ready to swing.
Before he could get close, a loud voice boomed from the doorway. “Mrs. Stewart, Mr. Stewart is waiting for you at home. He’s asked you to return for dinner.”
The word Mrs. Stewart cut through the chaos like a knife. Caspian’s raised fist wavered mid-air before he swung it wildly at the nearest object, a decorative vase. The vase shattered on impact, shards scattering across the floor. Odalys smirked, her eyes flicking toward the chauffeur standing in the doorway. His interruption couldn’t have been more perfectly timed.
Clearly, he’d had enough of the drama and decided to step in. She was grateful-if only because Caspian had just dodged a world of pain.
“Let’s go,” she said curtly, brushing past the stunned onlookers as if they didn’t exist. The chauffeur followed, guiding her into the sleek black car waiting outside.
As they sped away, Odalys glanced at the rearview mirror and caught sight of Caspian, who looked ready to storm after her. Henry, however, grabbed his arm and held him back.
“Ma’am,” the chauffeur ventured cautiously, glancing at her through the mirror. “Are you alright?”
Odalys leaned back, closing her eyes with a long sigh. “I’m fine. They’re nothing but background noise.”
Back at the Bennett estate, Caspian wrenched his arm free from Henry’s grip, his face flushed with rage. “Why the hell did you stop me? That bitch deserves to be put in her place!” Henry shot him a sharp look, his voice low and clipped.” That wasn’t just anyone, Caspian. That was the Stewart family’s driver. If you’d hit her, you’d have dragged us all down with you.”
Chapter 10
Atlas held Sophia protectively, his sharp ears catching the heated conversation between his older brothers. Without hesitation, he stepped in.
“Are you serious, Henry? She’s just acting out. A good smack will fix that attitude. And who gives a damn if that chauffeur works for the Stewarts? She just married in. You think they’re gonna throw their weight behind her?” Atlas snapped, his voice filled with irritation.
“And let’s be real,” he continued, his anger bubbling over, that guy is on his last legs. When he’s gone, who’s gonna care about her? Bringing her back here was already a huge favor, and this is how she thanks us? Disrespecting Mom and Sophia? Un-fucking-believable.”
His fists clenched as Odalys’s defiant stare flashed in his mind. That look in her eyes-so unwavering, so sharp-sent a chill down his spine.
She used to hang on his every word, always so pliable, but now she had the gall to fight back and humiliate him in front of everyone.
Henry Bennett, calm and composed as always, cut in before Atlas could rant further. “Enough, Atlas. Even if we’re going to deal with her, today is not the day. If that chauffeur spreads word of what happened, we’ll be the ones in trouble, not her. Even if the Stewarts don’t retaliate, this could blow back on us in other ways.”
His tone was measured, his words heavy with logic. As the heir to the Bennett Group, Henry had learned to think strategically. He didn’t act on impulse; he calculated every move.
“But, Henry!” Sophia’s soft voice trembled as tears welled up in her eyes. She crouched down to pick up Henry’s broken glasses, but her fingers brushed against a shard of glass.
“Ah!” she gasped, quickly pulling her hand back. Blood welled up on her delicate fingertip.
Her tearful gaze turned to her brothers, her lip quivering.” This is all my fault,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “If only I’d married into the Stewart family instead, none of this would’ve happened. She can hate me all she wants, but why does she have to hurt you and Mom?”
Her voice grew softer, her tears falling steadily as she stared helplessly at the blood on her finger, her pale face tinged with vulnerability.
“Don’t cry, Sophia. This has nothing to do with you-it’s all on Odalys,” Atlas muttered, his tone surprisingly soft as he moved closer to her.
“Quick, grab a bandage!” another voice chimed in, as the brothers fussed over her.
Meanwhile, Hannah sat frozen on the sofa, staring blankly at the door where Odalys had stormed out. She looked like a shell of herself, her gaze empty and unfocused.
The memory of Odalys ripping the emerald pendant from her neck replayed in her mind like a broken record. Without it, Hannah felt a cold emptiness creeping through her, leaving her drained and despondent.
“Mom, are you okay?” Henry’s sharp eyes caught her pale face, and he walked over quickly, worry etched across his brow.
Hannah blinked, finally tearing her gaze from the door. “She hates us now, doesn’t she?” she murmured. “She even took the wedding gifts with her. What if she refuses to help us? What if she won’t use her position in the Stewart family to bring us resources?”
Henry frowned deeply, her words tugging at the edges of his already growing headache. Earlier that day, during what should have been a routine business negotiation, everything had fallen apart.
A single phone call to the other party had turned the deal on its head. Henry couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was targeting the Bennett Group, pulling strings to cut them off.
Over the years, the Bennetts had made plenty of enemies, but no one had ever moved so openly against them-until now.
“We can’t let her keep the gifts,” Atlas said, his anger flaring up again. “Three hundred million dollars’ worth of assets, and she thinks she can just walk away with it? Odalys doesn’t deserve any of it! Those gifts were meant for Sophia.”
Caspian, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, his voice cold and razor-sharp. “Didn’t Henry already secure her that spot on the reality show? Once she’s on that island, Atlas, you know what to do.”
His words hung in the air like a dark cloud, heavy with implications. No one protested. Their silence spoke volumes-it was as good as an agreement.
Sophia lowered her gaze, hiding the faint, cruel smile that tugged at her lips. Everything was playing out exactly as she’d planned. The chaos she’d orchestrated was moving forward, one step at a time.
Meanwhile, on the long, winding asphalt road leading to the Stewart estate, a sleek black car cruised under the shade of ancient trees. Their branches, thick and sprawling, seemed to whisper secrets of a bygone era.
At the end of the road stood the Stewart family’s timeless courtyard, its elegant design. Outside, willow branches swayed gently in the breeze, casting long shadows over a bubbling brook that wound its way under arched stone bridges.
The moment the car door swung open, a servant immediately bowed low with a respectful tone.
Odalys nodded lightly, her steps graceful as she entered the courtyard. Every servant she passed greeted her with genuine deference, a stark contrast to the haughty attitude she’d been subjected to at the Bennett family home.
She made her way across the courtyard quickly, spotting Dorian hustling about, but there was no sign of Percival. That was when it hit her-the chauffeur’s earlier comment about the “Mr. Stewart asking you to come back for dinner” was just a clever excuse to get her back here. A wave of relief washed over her.
Leaving the Bennett family felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest. Her mood lightened instantly, and she felt a sense of freedom she hadn’t realized she was missing.
The Stewart mansion, located in the southern part of the city, was surrounded by fresh, clean air. As she was about to head upstairs, she heard the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps approaching behind her.
She turned around quickly to see Percival, tall and imposing, walking toward her from the door. He wore a blue shirt and well-tailored trousers that showed off his broad, muscular frame.
His sleeves were rolled up, revealing arms that were strong and toned, the veins standing out-a clear sign of someone who’d spent years working out.
“Come here.” Percival’s voice was deep, low, and commanding. Odalys raised an eyebrow, falling in step behind him as he led her toward the back garden.
In the garden, Percival opened a suitcase and pulled out a selection of herbs, carefully placing them on a sandalwood table. “These are all rare herbs, over a hundred years old. I found half of what was on your list. The rest might take a few more days to arrive.”
Odalys stepped closer, clearly impressed. She looked over the herbs-some of the rarest, most sought-after materials she could’ve hoped for. She carefully picked up a piece of herb, inhaling its scent with a smile that almost seemed to glow.
“No rush,” she said, closing the suitcase and standing up. “I’ m shooting a variety show tomorrow, and I probably won’t be back for a couple of weeks.”
Percival watched her closely, his gaze lingering on the way she handled the herbs. It stirred something in him, an unspoken emotion he couldn’t quite place. Her casual words broke his train of thought.
“You’re doing a variety show?” he asked, a little incredulous.
“Yeah,” Odalys replied, her voice soft. After a brief pause, she seemed to realize something, quickly adding, “But don’t worry. I’ll mix these herbs for you. Just soak them for half an hour every night, and it’ll slow down the poison for now. “Once I’m back and the rest of the herbs are here, I’ll make the pills.”
She spoke clearly and confidently, without any
boastfulness or showiness. It was simply her way of solving a problem. There was something about her calm assurance that made him trust her more.
“So, this variety show… did the Bennett family set it up for you?” Percival’s voice was laced with suspicion after hearing her explanation.
According to Callum’s investigation, the Bennett family had been treating her like free labor- no salary, no respect. She barely had any real roles, mostly minor parts that no one cared about.
If the Bennett Group was actually trying to promote her, they sure wouldn’t be treating her like this. Even an outsider could see through their scheme.
“Yeah.” Odalys chuckled dryly. “I signed an eight-month contract, and there’s only half a month left. They set up this variety show for me, so I have no choice but to go. If I bail, I’ Il have to pay a penalty.”
Percival’s face hardened at her words, his eyes darkening as he processed what she said. The coldness in his gaze made her pause for a second.
“Do you want me to take care of it for you?” he asked, his voice low, almost dangerous.
お金金
SEND GIFT or GCASH: +63.936.139.8714 or Buy Me Coffee
COMMENT
Subscribe
Daisy Novels 
2 thoughts on “Betrayed, Yet Bound To The Billionaire by Grace Madeline (Chapters 1 to 10)”