Chapter 5 The Price of Power

Marcus Thompson's entrance into the Ogoin estate was met with the quiet hum of tension that seemed to vibrate through the air. He had already sized up the situation-wealthy, but not his level of wealth. Powerful, but not his kind of power. They weren't his equals, not by a long shot. But they had something he needed, and they knew it.

Today, though, he would play the game on his terms.

Victor Ogoin was the first to meet him in a private office, a space far removed from the noise of the rest of the house. The older man sat at his desk, his fingers tapping lightly on the surface as if pretending to hold a conversation with the papers scattered in front of him. Marcus stood by the door, his cane tapping softly against the floor with each step. His posture was straight, his expression cold. He wasn't here for pleasantries.

"Mr. Thompson," Victor greeted, his voice as smooth as his perfectly tailored suit. "I trust your journey was pleasant?"

"I didn't come here to discuss travel arrangements," Marcus responded, his tone flat. "You've made it clear why we're meeting. Let's not waste time."

Victor's eyes flickered with the smallest hint of discomfort, but he quickly masked it. He was used to people being intimidated by his wealth, but Marcus Thompson wasn't impressed by anything-least of all money.

"Very well," Victor said, leaning forward slightly, his fingers still drumming. "As you know, this arrangement between our families is a matter of great importance. We want what's best for Joanne." He paused, as though considering the right words. "She's delicate, Mr. Thompson, and she requires a certain level of understanding."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Understanding?" His voice was as sharp as a knife, each word carrying an unspoken command. "What you mean, Victor, is that she's a burden you can't bear to keep. This marriage is about convenience, not love. Don't fool yourself into thinking I'm here for anything other than what's advantageous for me."

Victor's expression stiffened, but he said nothing. It was clear he wasn't in a position to argue.

"We're in agreement, then," Marcus continued. "I'll marry her. But don't expect me to pamper her. She'll be treated as she deserves, no more, no less."

Victor's lips pressed together tightly. "Of course, Mr. Thompson. We trust you'll handle the situation with care."

Marcus didn't offer a response. Instead, he turned and walked out of the room without another word, leaving Victor to stew in the uncomfortable silence that followed.

*****

The dinner was arranged for later that evening, and the atmosphere in the grand dining room was stifling. The family had gathered around the long, gleaming table, the flickering candlelight casting soft shadows on their faces. Marcus entered the room last, his cane tapping against the marble floor as he strode toward the head of the table with an air of dominance that made everyone shift uncomfortably.

Joanne was seated at the far end of the table, her eyes downcast, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She looked small and fragile, as though she didn't belong in this world of opulence and power.

Celeste, on the other hand, looked up as Marcus approached, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer than necessary. There was an obvious interest in her eyes, but Marcus didn't acknowledge it.

Instead, he moved to his seat with quiet authority, taking his place without ceremony.

The room fell into a tense silence as dinner was served. Joanne barely touched her food, her eyes flickering briefly toward Marcus before quickly darting away. She had always been aware of the power dynamics in her family, but this felt different. There was a coldness about Marcus that made everything else feel irrelevant.

Victor cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "We're grateful for your willingness to enter this arrangement, Mr. Thompson," he said, his voice careful, measured.

Marcus didn't respond right away. Instead, he took a sip of wine, savoring the taste before setting the glass down with a quiet clink. "I'm here because I'm getting something out of this," he said bluntly. "Don't mistake my presence for anything else."

Joanne flinched at his words, her heart sinking. It was a harsh reminder of just how little she mattered in this equation.

"Of course," Genevieve said, her voice dripping with politeness. "We understand the arrangement, Marcus. You're a man of power, and power is what you value."

"I value results," Marcus corrected, his voice unwavering. "And in case you've forgotten, I'm the one with the power here. Not you."

The tension in the room thickened. Genevieve and Victor exchanged a brief glance, but neither spoke.

Celeste, however, couldn't help herself. She leaned forward slightly, her gaze fixed on Marcus as she asked, "Do you enjoy being feared, Mr. Thompson?"

Her voice was soft, almost seductive, but Marcus remained unmoved. His gaze briefly flickered to her, but only for a moment.

"I don't enjoy it," he replied, his voice cold. "But fear is a tool. And I use it as needed."

Joanne swallowed hard, her pulse racing. She could feel Marcus's gaze brushing over her, but it was as if she wasn't even there. His indifference stung more than she cared to admit.

As dinner continued, Marcus remained detached, his attention fixed on his meal and the occasional passing glance to Victor or Genevieve. But his words to Joanne, or rather, his lack of words, spoke louder than anything else.

He didn't see her. Not as a person, not as a potential partner. She was just another pawn in thgame, a-a necessary step to securing the marriage he had no real interest in.

When the meal finally came to an end, Marcus stood abruptly, pushing his chair back with a sharp scrape. He turned to leave without another word, but not before his eyes flickered to Joanne for a brief second.

"Remember, Joanne," he said, his voice low and dismissive. "You're here to serve a purpose. Do not forget."

And with that, he left the room, his cane tapping against the floor with the sound of finality.