The Watson mansion was silent as rain poured against the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Jay walked into the dining room wearing a simple white shirt and jeans, her hair still damp after a shower.
She pulled out a chair.
Before she could sit—
“Stop.”
Keifer’s cold voice echoed through the room.
Jay slowly looked at him.
He didn’t even raise his eyes from the newspaper in his hands.
“Who gave you permission to sit there?”
She frowned.
“It’s just a chair.”
“It was my mother’s chair.”
Silence filled the room.
Jay quietly pushed it back.
“I didn’t know.”
“You should have.”
His voice carried no emotion.
She chose another chair.
A maid nervously served breakfast.
Jay reached for the coffee pot.
Keifer spoke again.
“Not that one.”
She looked at him.
“That’s mine.”
“So?”
“I don’t share.”
Jay let out a sarcastic laugh.
“You really are impossible.”
He finally looked up.
Those icy eyes locked onto hers.
“I’m not here to make your life comfortable.”
“And I’m not here because I wanted to marry you.”
The room fell silent.
Even the maids stopped moving.
Keifer stood.
Slowly.
Calmly.
He walked around the table until he was standing beside her.
“So remember something.”
He leaned down slightly.
His voice was quiet.
“But everyone in this house will hear it.”
Jay met his gaze without flinching.
“You are my wife…”
He paused.
“…only on paper.”
“You’ll stay in your room.”
“You’ll attend events when I tell you.”
“You’ll smile when I need you to.”
“And you will never mistake this marriage for love.”
Jay folded her arms.
“Finished?”
His eyebrow lifted.
“My turn.”
She stood until they were face to face.
“You may own this mansion.”
“You may scare your employees.”
“You may even scare politicians.”
She stepped closer.
“But you don’t scare me.”
The maids exchanged nervous glances.
Nobody had ever spoken to Keifer like that.
His jaw tightened.
“You think you’re brave.”
“No.”
Jay smiled faintly.
“I just don’t like bullies.”
For a split second, the room felt dangerously still.
Keifer turned to the head maid.
“From today…”
“No one serves Mrs.
Watson unless I approve.”
The maid’s eyes widened.
“Sir…?”
“You heard me.”
Jay stared at him.
“So you’re punishing the staff because of me?”
“I’m reminding you where you stand.”
Without another word, he walked away.
Later that evening…
Jay carried a tray of food to her room herself.
As she reached the staircase, she lost her balance.
The tray slipped.
Crash!
The plate shattered across the marble floor.
The sound echoed through the mansion.
Keifer appeared from his office.
His eyes moved from the broken dishes to Jay.
“You can’t even carry dinner.”
Jay crouched to clean the broken pieces.
“I’ll take care of it.”
One sharp piece nicked her finger.
A drop of blood fell onto the white marble.
She hissed softly.
Keifer watched in silence.
For a moment, it seemed as if he might step forward.
Instead, he simply said,
“Don’t stain my floors.”
He turned and walked away.
Jay looked down at her bleeding finger, then at his retreating back.
“One day,” she whispered to herself, “you’ll realize that treating people like they’re disposable doesn’t make you strong.”
Upstairs, Keifer paused for the briefest second.
He had heard her.
But he kept walking, refusing to look back.