After dinner, the atmosphere shifted.
The servants cleared the table quietly, retreating as Grandpa Arinston settled deeper into his chair in the sitting room, clearly satisfied with the meal. The large living area was warm and elegant, the soft lighting reflecting off antique furniture and framed photographs that told the long history of the Ariston family.
Selena stood up gently.
"Grandpa," she said politely, "may I take a walk around the house for a bit? I've just finished eating, and I feel like stretching my legs."
Grandpa looked at her with mild surprise, then nodded approvingly. "Of course. The garden is beautiful at night."
He turned to Jace. "Take her around."
Jace rose immediately. "Alright."
Before Selena could even take a step forward, another voice cut in smoothly.
"Oh," Melissa said, standing up as well. "That's a good idea. I've eaten quite a lot myself. A walk would help digestion."
Jace's eyes flicked to her—cold, sharp.
For a brief moment, it looked like he might refuse.
But Grandpa Arinston was seated right there, watching. And the old man already knew Melissa's interest in his grandson. Still, he had chosen not to interfere—his grandson had made his choice, and Grandpa intended to respect it.
"Go ahead," Grandpa said easily. "Some fresh air will do you all good."
Jace said nothing more.
Selena didn't wait.
She turned and walked forward, her posture straight, her steps unhurried. She had no interest in listening to anything Melissa wanted to say. To her, Melissa was nothing more than a rival hiding behind a polished smile.
She had noticed it long ago—at the party, at the office, and again tonight.
Yes, she didn't come from wealth.
Yes, she didn't grow up in luxury.
But did that mean she wasn't worthy of being with someone from the upper class?
Behind her, Melissa quickened her steps.
"Selena."
Selena ignored her and continued walking toward the hallway that led to the inner garden.
Melissa's expression hardened.
She reached out suddenly and grabbed Selena's wrist, her fingers tightening painfully.
Selena stopped.
Slowly, she turned.
Melissa no longer looked sweet.
Her eyes were cold.
"Do you really think you're Jace's wife now," Melissa asked quietly, her voice low and sharp, "just because Grandpa nodded and smiled at you?"
Selena glanced at the hand gripping her wrist, then back at Melissa's face.
"Let go," she said calmly.
Melissa didn't.
"If Grandpa ever finds out," Melissa continued, lips curling, "that this so-called marriage is nothing but a contract, how do you think you'll explain yourself?"
That did it.
Selena yanked her hand back sharply, her eyes flashing with icy fury. Gone was the calm politeness she wore in front of the family—what replaced it was controlled fire.
She took a step closer.
"You shouldn't worry about me," Selena said through clenched teeth. "When I reach that bridge, I'll know how to cross it."
Melissa scoffed.
"My husband," Selena continued firmly, "has already told me not to worry. So I won't."
Melissa's eyes widened slightly.
Then she laughed.
A cold, mocking sound.
"So that's what you call him now?" she asked. "Husband?"
She tilted her head, studying Selena like an insect under glass.
"No matter how hard you try to carry yourself," Melissa said cruelly, "you're still just someone Jace pitied. Someone he paid medical bills for."
Selena's fingers curled at her sides.
"He took pity on you," Melissa went on, enjoying every word, "and you mistook it for love."
She stepped closer, lowering her voice.
"Don't worry," she whispered. "When the three months are over, I'll personally help you pack your things and leave Jace's house."
Silence fell between them.
Selena didn't scream.
She didn't cry.
She didn't beg.
Instead, she looked Melissa straight in the eyes—steady, unbroken.
"Enjoy talking while you can," Selena said quietly. "I don't need your help for anything."
For the first time, Melissa felt… unsettled.
She masked it quickly.
With a sharp laugh, she turned and walked away, her heels clicking confidently against the marble floor as if she had already won.
Selena stood there for a long moment, breathing slowly, steadying herself.
It was a contract, she reminded herself.
I knew how this would end.
Yet her chest still felt tight.
She lifted her head, straightened her posture, and resumed walking—alone this time.
Back in the sitting room, Grandpa Arinston chatted casually with Jace, unaware of the quiet war that had just happened under his roof.
And unbeknownst to all of them, this was only the beginning.