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It was a call from Natalie's father.
With a heavy heart, she answered the phone.
"Dad."
"Natalie, did you give Oliver the gift I prepared for him?" came the voice of Robert Watson, cold and indifferent.
"Remember, you've got to behave over there. Don't upset him."
Natalie's heart sank.
Father didn't call to ask if I was okay… just to make sure I don't anger Oliver?
She remembered how cruel he had been when he forced her to marry Oliver in Hailey's place.
"Natalie, let me tell you something! If you refuse to marry Oliver, I'll throw you and Lucas out!"
Those words had destroyed the last bit of hope she had in him.
"I'll give it to him later," she replied, swallowing her pain and disappointment.
"Dad, please… don't tell Lucas about the marriage. It might be too much for him right now."
Robert's voice turned sharp.
"Too much for him? What's that supposed to mean? You're lucky to be Oliver's wife!"
He paused, impatient. "Forget it. As long as you do what I say, no one will tell him."
After all, Natalie was the only one in the family who still visited Lucas.
The gift was in Natalie's suitcase — a flat, rectangular box about 1.6 feet wide, wrapped in delicate gold-foil kraft paper. It looked noble and luxurious.
She didn't know what was inside.
With the box in her arms, she headed toward Oliver's study.
The door was shut.
This time, she knocked and waited patiently, not daring to enter without permission.
Fortunately, the door opened soon — it was connected to an intelligent system.
The study was surprisingly large, nearly 1,000 square feet.
It was decorated in deep brown tones, with velvet carpets on the floor and bookshelves covering the walls, filled with rare books in many languages.
Oliver sat behind a broad desk made of rare wood, reclined in a leather chair.
Sunlight filtered in through the large glazed window, casting a soft light across his sharp features.
His face, calm and cold in the morning light, looked like something sculpted by a master — too perfect, almost unreal.
It was hard to believe such a man had ever been rumored to be ugly.
He looked up at her with an indifferent gaze, as though silently asking why she had come.
"Oliver, my dad asked me to bring you a gift," Natalie said quietly, holding out the box.
Oliver casually tapped the desk with his long, strong fingers.
"Bring it in."
Being alone with him always made her feel on edge. His natural aura was so overpowering that she had to gather her breath before stepping inside.
He glanced at the exquisite gift box and tilted his chin slightly.
"Open it."
She carefully unwrapped the box.
Inside was an antique gilded saber, its blade engraved with smooth, elegant lines. The handle was decorated with rare gems, and the scabbard bore elaborate carvings.
It was clear at first glance that this was an item of great value.
But Oliver didn't seem the least bit impressed.
He picked it up and turned it in his hand briefly, then was about to set it aside — until he noticed something else at the bottom of the box.
With two fingers, he hooked out a few small pieces of fabric.
He paused, then let out a cold chuckle.
"Natalie," he said mockingly, "is this your new strategy?"
"What?" she blinked, confused.
Without another word, he flicked the pieces toward her — they landed squarely on her head.
Startled, she pulled them off and froze.
It was a set of very thin, kinda transparent — something bold and eye-catching, completely inappropriate for a formal gift.
Natalie went numb. Her face flushed red with embarrassment, her hands trembling as she immediately tossed the garments aside without even looking at them properly.
Why would something like this be in the box…?
"I don't understand…" she stammered, her voice cracking in humiliation.
Her cheeks and ears were burning, and she could barely meet his eyes.
Oliver's gaze turned colder.
He sneered inwardly. Among all the women who've tried to catch my attention, you really are the best at pretending innocence.
"You brought it here, and now you're too shy to admit it?" he said with a scoff.
"Don't act so clueless. Drop the act."
"I'm not—" Natalie started, feeling the injustice rise in her throat.
"I never even opened the box. I didn't know what was inside!"
Oliver stood up.
His tall frame instantly cast a shadow over her. His presence was overwhelming — like a storm closing in.
She instinctively stepped back, but he reached out and firmly held her chin.
"Natalie," his voice dropped, cold and steady.
"I know exactly what you're after. You want me to believe you're innocent while trying to win me over quietly."
He paused, his eyes narrowing.
"Isn't that what this is about?"