Chapter 3 The Ogoin Household

The Ogoin estate was a masterpiece of wealth and power, an imposing mansion of white marble and high glass windows that reflected the city skyline. From the outside, it was perfect.

Inside, perfection was an illusion.

Joanne walked through the grand double doors, her heels clicking against the cold, pristine floor. The foyer was exactly as she remembered. Elegant, extravagant, and utterly lifeless. A grand chandelier hung overhead, its glow casting long shadows on the expensive artwork lining the walls.

The house smelled of polished wood and fresh-cut flowers, but no warmth. No welcome.

Joanne barely had time to brace herself before a sharp voice sliced through the silence.

"You're late."

She turned to find her mother, Genevieve Ogoin, descending the curved staircase with the grace of a queen. Dressed in an emerald green gown that hugged her slender frame, Genevieve was the picture of refined beauty. Not a single hair was out of place, not a single wrinkle of emotion on her flawless face.

"Good evening, Mother," Joanne said, forcing a neutral tone.

Genevieve's eyes raked over her. Not with concern. With scrutiny.

"You were supposed to come straight home after dinner with Marcus," her mother continued, her voice crisp. "Do you have any idea how this looks?"

Joanne stiffened. "How what looks?"

Her mother sighed, stepping closer. "You disappear for hours on the same night you meet your fiancé. People talk, Joanne. The Ogoins do not invite speculation."

There it was. The ever-present concern for appearances.

Joanne swallowed back the bitterness rising in her throat. "I just needed some air."

Genevieve scoffed. "That's what weak girls say."

Before Joanne could respond, another voice chimed in, laced with amusement.

"Still causing trouble, I see."

Joanne turned to see Celeste, her eldest sister, lounging against the doorway with a wine glass in hand. Celeste was everything Joanne wasn't bold, effortlessly charming, and their father's prized daughter.

Behind Celeste stood Athena, the middle Ogoin sister, who was softer in demeanor but no less cutting when it mattered.

Joanne tensed as her sisters exchanged a knowing glance.

"Well?" Celeste pressed, swirling her wine. "How was he?"

"Who?" Joanne asked, already exhausted.

"Marcus Thompson, of course," Celeste smirked. "Our future brother-in-law."

Athena chuckled. "Father said he was ruthless. Did he scare you?"

Joanne met her sisters' eyes, the weight of their expectations pressing down on her.

Marcus had been intimidating. And cold. But beneath all of that, there had been something else, something unreadable.

She wasn't about to share that with them.

"He was... fine," Joanne said simply.

Celeste raised an eyebrow. "Fine? That's all you have to say?"

"Would you like me to rate him for you?" Joanne deadpanned.

Athena giggled, but their mother's disapproving sigh cut through the exchange.

"Enough of this nonsense," Genevieve snapped. "Joanne, your father is waiting for you in his study. Don't make him wait."

Joanne's stomach twisted.

Her father. Of course.

Without another word, she turned and made her way down the long hallway leading to her father's study. Each step felt heavier than the last.

The door was slightly ajar, and she hesitated before knocking.

"Enter."

Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside.

The study was dimly lit, the scent of whiskey and old books filling the space. Behind the massive mahogany desk sat Victor Ogoin, her father. A powerful man with an even more powerful presence.

He didn't look up from the papers in front of him.

"Close the door."

She obeyed.

For a moment, there was only silence, and then.

"You embarrassed us tonight."

Joanne flinched. "I didn't..."

"You disappeared." He finally looked at her, his dark eyes sharp as a blade. "That is not acceptable. Do you understand how fragile this arrangement is? Do you understand how lucky you are that Marcus Thompson is even willing to marry you?"

The words stung, even though she had expected them.

"Yes, Father."

Victor leaned back, studying her. "I need you to be smart, Joanne. This isn't about love. This is about securing your place. Your family's place. I will not have you ruin this."

Ruin this.

As if she had ever had a choice.

"Yes, Father," she repeated, her voice hollow.

He nodded, dismissing her without another word.

Joanne turned and walked out, her chest tight.

As she stepped back into the hallway, she found Celeste and Athena still waiting, their faces unreadable.

"He really got to you, didn't she?" Athena murmured.

Joanne didn't answer.

Instead, she walked past them, heading straight for her room.

As she shut the door behind her, she finally let out a shaky breath.

This was the family she had grown up in.

A house of wealth, power, and expectations.

And not a shred of love to be found.