"Are you sure you can stay here?" Calyx asked, his voice laced with hesitation. We were in my room—our house—yet it felt like I was intruding. Jillian had just stepped out to take a call, leaving us in a silence heavier than any argument we could have had.
"Yes. We're married. There's nothing wrong with me staying in my own house, right?" I replied, forcing my voice to stay even.
Calyx sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "But you're not sleeping with me."
I let out a bitter laugh, the absurdity of his words hitting me all at once. Was he serious?
"Are you hearing yourself right now?" I scoffed. "After standing right in front of me and admitting that you're still in love with Jillian, you expect me to sleep next to you? In the same bed? Hell no." I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I've been sleeping here for three months since we got married. I don't see why that should change now."
He exhaled, defeated. "Okay then." Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving me alone in the room.
The moment he was out of sight, I let out a deep sigh, my chest tightening with emotions I refused to acknowledge. What the hell was I doing? Staying here, in this house, while Jillian was still very much in the picture—was this martyrdom or sheer stupidity?
I was hurting. Every second, every breath in this house was a reminder of the battle I was fighting alone. But what choice did I have?
I wanted to fix this marriage. I wanted to believe that it wasn't beyond saving.
But where do I even start?
When Calyx left me alone in my room, I wasted no time. I needed answers.
Jillian's words echoed in my head—claims that my family was drowning in debt. But how? How was that even possible?
I dove into my work, meticulously tracing every financial record, every contract, every transaction linked to my family. Nothing seemed out of place. I even accessed the internal system of Trexler Corporation, combing through our legal business dealings, but there were no signs of any major losses.
Yet, when I examined the external reports, I found something alarming. According to those documents, we had supposedly lost nearly 75% of our stocks—an enormous financial blow. But the problem? There was no verifiable record of this loss. No transactions. No signed agreements. Nothing tangible to prove it had actually happened.
And the most unsettling part? These reports were dated four years ago—when my father was still alive. A year before I returned to Australia. A year before he died.
I was about to close the files when something caught my eye—a folder buried deep in the system, unlike the rest. It didn't belong there. My pulse quickened as I tried to open it, but it was encrypted, locked behind layers of security beyond my usual methods.
I clenched my jaw.
There was no way my father had convinced Calyx to marry me under false pretenses. No way he would fabricate a financial crisis that never existed.
But if he had…
I swallowed hard.
If my father was behind this, then everything I thought I knew was a lie.
And this folder? It might just hold the truth.
But getting to it wouldn't be easy.
Knock. Knock.
The sudden knock startled me, but before I could respond, Calyx pushed the door open and stepped inside like he still had the right.
"Dinner is ready," he said, his tone casual as he walked toward my desk. "Come eat first. You can continue whatever you're doing later."
Without waiting for my response, he reached over and shut my laptop.
I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to stay calm. "Maybe later," I muttered, flipping the laptop open again.
But just as quickly, he closed it once more.
I bit my lip, holding back the frustration rising in my chest. "I said I can eat later, Calyx! You can have dinner with Jillian. You don't need to invite me!" I snapped, my voice sharp with the weight of everything unspoken between us.
He ignored my outburst, stepping closer. For a moment, I thought he was about to say something—something real—but instead, he reached for me like he was actually going to carry me out of the room.
My eyes widened. "Jeez! I can walk! You don't need to do that," I squeaked, wriggling away before he could follow through.
I darted toward the door, my heart hammering from both frustration and something else I refused to name.
Behind me, I heard a low chuckle—soft, familiar. The sound sent a pang through my chest, warm and aching all at once.
I had almost forgotten what his laugh sounded like.
I swallowed hard.
What the hell happened to us?
True enough, dinner was already served—and Calyx had prepared a feast. Buttered shrimp, steaming hot soup, colorful chop suey, and an entire roasted chicken sat on the table, filling the air with a delicious aroma.
I blinked. Are we celebrating something?
I glanced around the dining room, expecting to see Jillian, but she was nowhere in sight. It was just me and Calyx.
Suspicion crept into my voice. "Okay… Why is there so much food? And where's your lover Jillian?" I asked, unable to hide my curiosity.
Because why not? There was nothing to celebrate. If anything, my life had taken a humiliating turn last night, my emotions were in complete disarray, and earlier, Calyx had made it painfully clear that he was still in love with Jillian. So how was I supposed to sit here and enjoy this feast with him?
"She won't be here tonight," he said simply, then pulled out a chair and sat down. "Let's eat, Severa."
I hesitated.
Then, I shook my head. "No. I'm good. Thank you."
I wasn't rejecting the food because I wasn't hungry—I was. But right now, I was just too emotionally drained to sit across from him and pretend everything was fine.
Instead, I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "But I do want to ask you something."
Calyx stared at me, expressionless. He was all cleaned up now—his stubble gone, his features sharper, more composed. For a moment, I saw the old Calyx. The cold one. The serious one. The version of him I could never quite read, the one whose thoughts were always locked away behind an impenetrable wall.
"If you have something to ask, then I suggest you sit," he said, voice steady as he started eating.
I smirked. There he is.
I didn't know what had shifted, but he was back—the Calyx I used to know. And if I wanted answers, I had to play this right.
So, I pulled out the chair and sat across from him, but I didn't touch my food. Instead, I kept my eyes locked on him, studying every shift in his expression.
If I wanted to untangle the mess that had become my life, I had to start with him.
Calyx was the only one who knew what my father had done—to our company, to him, to me. Because I refused to believe Uncle Brian had orchestrated any of this. From the files I had gone through earlier, Uncle Brian hadn't even known the truth—he had no idea that our family had never been in debt, that the company had never been on the brink of collapse.
Which left only one person holding the answers.
I exhaled slowly, then asked the question that had been gnawing at me since the moment Jillian had thrown those accusations in my face.
"How did my father convince you to marry me if you were in love with Jillian?"
The sound of metal hitting porcelain filled the air as Calyx dropped his spoon and fork.
His jaw went slack, his eyes widening just enough to betray his shock.
Like he couldn't believe I had cracked his first secret.
Instead of waiting for his answer—because, really, I didn't need it anymore—his reaction had already confirmed the truth.
I pushed forward.
"I know you're fully aware of how I feel about you, so why are you doing this? Why did you agree to my father?"
Calyx remained silent, exhaling a deep sigh as if gathering his thoughts. I wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily.
"I still haven't figured out what you gained from all of this," I continued, my voice firm. "But I do know one thing—when you married me, you became richer than before."
He finally spoke, but his response only fueled my frustration.
"Do you remember how I reacted when I found out you were close with Kaiser?"
I blinked, momentarily thrown off.
Kaiser? What did he have to do with this?
"What are you trying to do right now, Calyx?" I snapped. "You can't just change the topic like that!"
But the words that left my lips next came out softer, almost desperate.
Here's a refined version with more depth and emotional impact while keeping the dialogue and trajectory intact:
Calyx's jaw tensed, his grip tightening around his utensils, knuckles paling under the weight of his own restraint. The silence between us was deafening, a thick wall of unspoken truths pressing down on me, suffocating in its intensity.
"I didn't ask you questions about your connection with Kaiser and his friends," he said, his voice low, controlled—but brimming with something volatile just beneath the surface. "I stopped myself from being curious about the rumors of you having brothers. Then I met Sebastian and Steven."
A sharp chill ran through me. So he knew. He had pieced things together, but only enough to know there were pieces missing.
"I didn't pry into your life," he continued, his words growing sharper, slicing through the air like a blade. "Even when I was confused as hell—when I found you beaten up."
My breath caught in my throat. That night. The memory hit like a slap, raw and unhealed. The way he had looked at me—like he wanted to demand answers but chose not to.
"Because I wanted you to do the same," he went on, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. "I wanted you to stop being curious about why I'm doing this."
I clenched my fists beneath the table, nails digging into my palms as if the sting would ground me.
"Are you telling me to just let you do whatever you want?" My voice wavered, but the fire in my chest refused to be extinguished. "To what? To protect me from all the secrets you're hiding?"
The air between us crackled, thick with emotions too tangled to name. His eyes darkened, but I held his gaze, unyielding. If he thought I would back down, he was dead wrong.
"Yes, because I am protecting you!" Calyx's voice was raw, desperate. "So please, stop asking me why, because I can't answer you—and I won't."
His words settled between us like a finality I wasn't willing to accept. A heavy disappointment lodged itself in my chest, suffocating me. I had made a vow to him, one I wanted to keep—not just because of obligation, but because I wanted to believe there was more to this marriage than the circumstances that forced us into it. Yet, every instinct in me screamed that something bigger was at play, something I couldn't ignore.
I pushed back my chair, rising to my feet. My gaze drifted downward, meeting Calyx's troubled expression. There was a sadness in his eyes, but I was too tired to decipher it.
"How long are you going to keep shutting me out?" My voice was quiet but firm. "Do you want me to file for divorce already?"
Calyx shot up from his seat so fast the chair nearly toppled over.
"No," he said, urgency laced in every syllable. "You can't do that."
My brows furrowed. "Why can't I?"
His lips parted, but he hesitated. The silence that followed only confirmed my suspicions.
"This marriage—it's just a setup, isn't it?" My words were steady, but my hands trembled at my sides. "I know we don't have any debt. My father claimed we did, but that was just a cover-up for something else—something bigger. I just don't know what yet." I exhaled sharply, eyes locking onto his. "And now, here you are, acting like you don't want to let me go even though you don't love me."
Calyx flinched.
"Oh, you feel something for me," I continued, voice thick with emotion. "But it's not love—it's pity. And I don't need your pity, Calyx. I need your love." I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Yet I know I can't force you to love me back."
He stepped closer, reaching for my hand, but I pulled away before his fingers could graze mine.
"I already told you—I'm protecting you!" His voice broke slightly, filled with something I couldn't quite place. "You can't just leave. You can't file for divorce, Severa. You can't."
My frustration boiled over. "From whom are you protecting me, Calyx?" I demanded. "If someone's threatening my life, tell me! I can handle it myself—I don't need you shielding me like I'm some helpless child!"
Calyx cast his gaze downward, jaw clenched, as if the answer was lodged in his throat, too painful to speak aloud.
Then, without warning, he pulled me into his arms.
"Just don't go, Severa," he whispered, voice barely audible, yet carrying the weight of something far heavier than I could grasp. "Just don't."
The way he clung to me, the way his arms tightened like he was afraid I'd disappear—it sent alarm bells ringing in my mind. I scanned the room, my breath catching as realization sank in.
Calyx had been compromised.
And I had been blind not to see it sooner.
I hesitated, but then I wrapped my arms around him, resting my chin against his shoulder.
"I won't," I murmured, exhaling shakily. "I'm sorry."
But inside, I cursed myself.
Because whatever was happening, whatever trap we had both walked into—Calyx wasn't just keeping secrets.
He was being controlled.