Mrs.
Carven murmured, “He’s here now.” Esme’s eyes remained wide with fear and shock.
Rowan glanced at her, then turned toward Eli, who was singing into a microphone as he strolled down the aisle.
Guests watched him with amused smiles.
Making their way to their seats, Mr.
Carven frowned.
“What is this charade?” Eli kept singing as he approached, a bouquet held casually in his hand.
When he reached Rowan and Esme, he acted as if she were a total stranger.
“Hello there, sister-in-law,” he said smoothly, handing her the flowers.
Esme’s hands trembled as she accepted them.
Eli turned to Rowan, extending his hand.
“Brother.” Rowan barely acknowledged the gesture.
The two had never gotten along as children.
As the eldest, Rowan was the heir to the mafia family, raised in a strict, privileged environment to take over from their father.
Eli, on the other hand, loved music, a passion his parents strongly opposed.
He had left home early to pursue it.
Because of their vastly different upbringings and personalities, they had never formed a real sibling bond.
After the ceremony, it was time for Esme’s family to send her off.
Mr.
and Mrs.
Calista held her tight, both crying, but Esme remained dry-eyed, frozen by pure anxiety.
She eventually climbed into the car where Rowan was already waiting.
Inside, Esme sat as far from Rowan as possible.
He remained completely silent, and the drive was heavy with awkwardness.
Two sleek black security cars followed closely behind them.
Rowan stayed occupied with his phone, while Esme stared out the window, tears silently streaming down her cheeks.
“Why does my life have to be like this, Lord?” she thought.
“Am I truly a bad person to be punished so severely?
I’ll never see my parents again…
I didn’t even get to spend time with them before leaving.
And now Eli is my brother-in-law.
I hope I never see him again.” Rowan glanced at her briefly before returning his gaze to his screen.
The car eventually pulled up in front of an expansive, stunning mansion.
Esme looked out, taking in the vast, perfectly manicured grounds.
Rowan stepped out and held the door open for her, reaching out a hand since the vehicle sat high off the ground.
Esme ignored his hand.
“I can get down by myself.” As she tried to step out, her heel slipped and she nearly pitched forward.
Rowan caught her instantly, sliding an arm beneath her to steady her just before her face hit the pavement.
He helped her onto her feet properly, but she immediately yanked herself away.
“I didn’t ask for your help,” she snapped.
Rowan smirked, saying nothing as he turned and walked toward the entrance.
The security detail from the trailing cars stepped out as well.
Esme glanced back at them before following Rowan inside, her expression gloomy.
As the front doors opened, two female staff members greeted him.
“Welcome home, sir.” He gave a slight nod, walking past them.
When Esme reached the entryway, they greeted her too.
“Welcome home, ma’am.” Esme forced a tight smile.
Stepping inside, she was awestruck; the interior was even more breathtaking than the exterior.
It was luxurious and refined without feeling overly sharp or clinical.
Several staff members waited in the main hall, some smiling, others maintaining neutral expressions.
As Rowan headed toward the grand staircase, he stopped and turned back to Esme.
A woman stepped forward, and Rowan said, “She will show you your room and be your personal helper.
Anything you need, you can ask her.” Relieved at the thought of having her own space, Esme let out a quiet, “Okay.” Rowan addressed the gathered staff.
“This is Esme…
Mrs.
Esme Carven, my wife.” He glanced at Esme, who gave him a cold, disdainful glare.
He continued calmly, “Approach her with respect.” With that, he headed upstairs while the staff dispersed.
“Follow me,” the woman said softly, leading Esme up to the second floor.
She stopped down the hall and pointed.
“Over there is Mr.
Rowan’s room, and yours is here.” Esme muttered under her breath, “Not far enough.” The woman opened the door to reveal a beautifully arranged room.
Esme took a soft breath.
“Hmm…
a cocoa butter scent?” The woman smiled.
“Yes, Mr.
Rowan loves that smell.
We diffuse it in all the rooms.” She gestured toward the bath.
“There is hot water ready for your bath, and your nightwear has been laid out on the bed.
Dinner will be served in thirty minutes, and I will come call you.” “Is Rowan going to be there?” Esme asked instantly.
“I’m not sure, ma’am.” Esme nodded.
“Oh…okay then.
Please, what’s your name?” “It’s Silvia,” the woman replied with a warm smile.
“Nice to meet you, Silvia.” “I’m happy you’re here, Mrs.
Esme,” Silvia added before softly closing the door behind her.
The second she was alone, Esme fell onto the bed, burying her face in the pillows and letting out a muffled groan as tears spilled over.
After a few minutes, she forced herself up to shower and change into the fresh clothes.
A knock came at the door soon after.
“Mrs.
Esme, dinner is ready,” Silvia called out.
Esme opened the door slightly.
“Is Rowan going to be down there?” “I’m unsure, ma’am,” Silvia said gently.
“I’m not hungry.” “Are you sure?” “I don’t want to see his face, so I’m not eating,” Esme insisted firmly.
“Okay, ma’am,” Silvia said, bowing her head before heading downstairs.
A few minutes later, Rowan walked down to the dining table.
Seeing it empty, he turned to a staff member.
“Where is she?” Silvia stepped forward.
“Sir, she said she isn’t hungry and doesn’t want to eat.” Rowan looked at her.
“Did she give a reason?” Silvia hesitated, lowering her voice.
“Um…
sir, she said she did not want to see your face.” A slow smirk tugged at Rowan’s lips, his eyes softening slightly.
“Bring my food up to my room.
Tell her I’m not staying downstairs for dinner.” “Yes, sir,” Silvia nodded, quickly following behind him as he walked back upstairs, already checking his phone.
She knocked on Esme’s door again.
“Mrs.
Esme, Mr.
Rowan confirmed that he isn’t coming downstairs for dinner.” Behind Silvia, Rowan stood near his own bedroom door, idly lingering to see if Esme would come out.
The door opened, and Esme stepped into the hallway just as Rowan slipped into his room.
Silvia looked at Esme, noticing the her eyes were slightly red.
“What happened?
Were you crying?” Esme wiped her cheeks, brushing her tears away.
“Nothing…
just missing my parents.” Silvia smiled gently.
“Mr.
Rowan isn’t bad at all.
Don’t worry; in a few days, you won’t miss home so much.” Esme looked skeptical, but before she could speak, her stomach let out a loud rumble.
Silvia chuckled.
“Well, let’s forget all that for now.
Let’s get you something to eat.” They made their way down the stairs together.
Meanwhile, inside his room, Rowan was watching everything unfold on a massive wall-mounted display fed by the house’s security cameras.
He sat back comfortably in his armchair, watching the screens as if it were his own private show.
As Esme sat down at the dining table and began to eat, a faint smile crossed his face.
He zoomed the camera in on her, resting his chin on his hand as he leaned forward to watch.
well i would also be stubborn, if i was forced to marry someone.
But Rowan…
bro is giving obsessed much, right guys?
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