Chapter 6
Eleanor POV
"Eleanor," Jonathan repeated, his voice carrying that practiced warmth reserved for business associates rather than family. "I didn't know you were visiting. Where are you off to in such a hurry?"
The question hung in the air as I felt Catherine's gaze on my back and Derek's studied indifference before me—three Wells family members boxing me in with their collective presence, creating an invisible triangle of power that I could feel closing around me.
"I was just leaving," I managed to say, my voice steadier than I expected. "Catherine and I finished our discussion."
Jonathan's eyebrows rose slightly as he glanced toward his wife. "Discussion? About what?"
Before Catherine could answer, the family's long-time butler, Mr. Winters, appeared at the doorway.
"Dinner is served, Mrs. Wells," he announced with practiced formality.
Catherine rose from her seat with fluid grace. "Perfect timing. Eleanor, you'll join us for dinner, of course."
It wasn't a question. Three years of marriage to Derek had taught me that Wells family invitations were rarely optional. Still, I hesitated.
"I have plans with—"
"I insist," Catherine interrupted, her smile not reaching her eyes. "We have so much to catch up on, especially with Derek home."
Derek, who had been silent since entering the room, finally looked directly at me. His expression was unreadable, but something in his eyes made my protest die on my lips.
"Thank you," I conceded, feeling trapped. "I'd be happy to stay."
Catherine's smile widened with satisfaction. "Wonderful. Jonathan, why don't you show Derek that new acquisition in the library? Eleanor can help me check on dinner arrangements."
I knew this tactic well—Catherine's way of separating us to deliver individual instructions. As Jonathan and Derek disappeared down the hallway, Catherine turned to me with a colder expression.
"I wasn't expecting to have you at dinner tonight," she said, her voice low. "But since you're here, please remember that Derek has just returned from a long stay abroad. Let's keep conversation pleasant and avoid any... contentious topics."
The warning was clear: don't mention the impending divorce, don't challenge Derek, don't be difficult. Be the compliant, grateful Eleanor they expected.
"I understand," I replied, keeping my face neutral.
"Good," Catherine nodded before walking ahead toward the dining room. "Mrs. Hughes would be sorely missed tonight, but I suppose we'll manage without her."
The barb was intentional, reminding me of my earlier transgression. I followed Catherine silently, steeling myself for what promised to be a tense evening.
Catherine directed me to wait in the library while she oversaw final dinner preparations. The Wells family library was imposing—two stories of leather-bound volumes, dark oak shelving, and the lingering scent of old paper and expensive cologne. Jonathan had already left, but Derek remained, standing by the window with his back to me.
For a moment, I considered slipping out quietly, but Derek spoke without turning.
"Why are you here?" His voice was cool, detached. "I don't recall informing you about tonight's family dinner."
I stood straighter. "Your mother called me this afternoon. She wanted to discuss Mrs. Hughes."
Now he turned, one eyebrow raised. "Ah, so that's what this is about. The housekeeper you fired without consulting me."
"I didn't realize I needed your permission to manage our household staff," I replied, keeping my voice even. "Especially since you've been absent for the past two years."
Derek crossed the room, close enough that I could smell his cologne—the same one he'd worn since college, woody with hints of bergamot. "And what exactly did my mother have to say about that?"
"She was displeased. Apparently, Mrs. Hughes called her directly to complain."
Derek laughed without humor. "Of course she did. The Wells family staff has always been more loyal to my parents than to anyone else." His eyes narrowed slightly. "So what terrible offense did Mrs. Hughes commit to warrant dismissal?"
I hesitated, unwilling to admit how much the housekeeper's gossiping had hurt me. "She crossed a line. That's all you need to know."
"Crossed a line," he repeated, his tone mocking. "Well, I doubt it matters now. I'm sure my mother has already reinstated her. I'm sure that when she called you over, Mrs. Hughes had already used the spare key to open the door of our apartment and was already starting to do the cleaning. The Wells family staff has always had remarkably fluid employment status depending on which family member they speak to last."
His words stung with truth. I had no real authority in the Wells household, never had. Even in our own apartment, the staff likely viewed me as temporary—just like my position as Derek's wife.
Derek moved closer, his gaze dropping to my neck. "You're still wearing that?"
My hand instinctively rose to touch the silver star pendant—the wedding gift he'd given me three years ago. The small star hung from a delicate chain, its surface catching the library's warm light.
"Yes," I answered simply, unsure what else to say.
Derek's fingers reached out, lightly touching the pendant where it rested against my skin. He stepped closer, his body nearly pressed against mine as he leaned in. His fingertips brushed across my collarbone, sending an electric current through my body. I could feel his breath warm against my neck as he inhaled deeply.
"You smell different," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky tone I rarely heard. "Is that perfume or flowers?"
I froze, shocked by his sudden intimacy. My heart hammered in my chest as his face hovered inches from my neck, his fingers still resting against my skin.
"F-flowers," I stammered, unnerved by his boldness. "The lilies and jasmine at the shop... the scent clings to everything."
Derek's eyes darkened as they met mine, his fingers still toying with the pendant. "You know I only spent ten minutes choosing this, right?" he said quietly. "Less time than I spend selecting a tie."
The casual cruelty of his words contrasted sharply with the intimate position we were in, making them cut even deeper. I'd treasured this pendant, worn it almost daily for three years, believing it held some special meaning. To learn it had been selected with such indifference was humiliating.
"I like stars," I replied, fighting to keep my voice steady despite his unsettling proximity. "Always have."
Something flickered in Derek's eyes—perhaps regret at his harshness, but it vanished quickly. He remained close, too close, his fingers still grazing my skin.
"Dinner must be ready by now," I said, stepping back from his touch. "We shouldn't keep your parents waiting."
Derek studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "No," he finally agreed. "We shouldn't."
As I turned to leave the library, I felt his eyes following me, and wondered what he was thinking—if he was counting down the days until our contract expired, just as his mother was.