Chapter 7
Marley's spine tingled with the certainty of being watched. She whipped around, her face contorting into a grimace as she met Olivia's icy stare. "What are you doing here?" Olivia's voice cut through the air, sharp and loaded with contempt.
"Olivia," Marley replied, her words edged with sarcasm, her lips twisting into a mockery of a smile. "The mistress graces us with her presence. Shouldn't you be skulking in the shadows, ashamed?"
Olivia's grip tightened on the hand of the small girl beside her, her glare intensifying. "You're nothing, Marley," she hissed, venom dripping from each syllable. "Soon enough, you'll be out of the Archer family for good."
Marley's heart pounded, her fists clenching at her sides. The accusation stung, but she refused to let Olivia see her flinch.
"Pathetic," Olivia spat out with a twisted grin that never reached her eyes. "Your husband can't wait to divorce you—to toss you into another man's bed."
The words landed like a blow, and something wild and raw clawed up Marley's throat. A scream erupted from her, shattering the tense silence between them. Olivia basked in the chaos she'd wrought, her smile widening, cruel satisfaction gleaming in her eyes.
"Oscar confessed it all," Olivia taunted, leaning closer as if to share a sickening secret. "Three years chained to you, and he never laid a finger on you. What does that say about you, Marley? A barren failure of a woman."
Each word was a knife, twisting deeper into Marley's resolve. But she wouldn't break—not here, not in front of this woman who took pleasure in her pain. Inside, Marley seethed, her thoughts a tumultuous storm. Who did Olivia think she was, flaunting her affair, parading her child, and belittling her marriage?
Marley's jaw clenched as Olivia's venom continued to spill forth, the words slicing through the air like sharpened blades. "Oscar brought me and our daughter here today," Olivia sneered with a vicious smile, "to formally introduce us to his true circle. So scurry away, Marley—save whatever's left of your face."
"Introduce?" Marley's laugh was bitter, tinged with scorn. "You think this charade fools anyone? As long as that divorce paper remains unsigned, darling, you're nothing but the mistress. And that child—" she motioned toward the little girl, her voice rising, "will remain a bastard in everyone's eyes."
Olivia's face twisted, her porcelain features contorting into a mask of fury. "You dare?" Her words came out strangled, forced between gritted teeth. "I have shaped my daughter to be an Archer, while you—" She leaned in close, her breath hot against Marley's skin, "you will rue the day you crossed me."
The room seemed to hold its breath.
With a sudden, horrific clarity, Olivia's hand flashed up and struck the small child across the face. A sharp crack echoed, followed by the whimper of a wounded animal. The girl's body reeled, tiny feet tripping backwards until she collided with the finely set table. Crystal glasses shuddered, then surrendered to gravity, their delicate bodies fracturing as they met the floor.
Marley recoiled, horror etching deep lines across her forehead. The girl's cheek bloomed red against her pale skin, a stark contrast to Olivia's ice-cold demeanor. "God, Olivia," Marley hissed under her breath, "what monster lives within you?"
Guests cast furtive glances, whispers breeding like wildfire. Marley felt their eyes, judging, dissecting her every move. She willed her legs to stay rooted, even as the urge to run, to escape the madness before her, clawed at her insides.
"Monster?" Olivia's laugh was hollow, mocking. "No, dear Marley. Just a mother protecting her future." Her gaze swept the room, daring anyone to challenge her narrative.
Blood. A small, anguished cry pierced the tumultuous air as the little girl landed harshly against the unforgiving glass. The sharp crimson seeped through her delicate dress, a grotesque flower blooming on pristine fabric. Marley's breath hitched, shock rooting her to the spot—the sting of betrayal mingling with the acrid scent of spilled wine and shattered innocence.
"Marley! What have you done?" Olivia's voice ricocheted off the walls, laced with feigned horror.
Marley's eyes snapped to Olivia's face, confusion muddling her thoughts. "I—I didn't—"
"Stay away from my child!" Olivia wailed theatrically, gathering the wounded girl into her arms. Her tears flowed, but not a single drop of sincerity could be found within them. "Please, don't hurt us!"
The bystanders murmured, their eyes darting between the accused and accuser. Marley felt their judgment like a physical weight, pressing down upon her already buckling shoulders.
"Didn't you hear me? Forgive me, forgive my baby," Olivia implored, her sobs crescendoing for her audience.
Marley's hands clenched into fists, nails digging crescents into her palms. She wanted to scream, to reveal the charade, but the words were wild birds inside her, flapping against the cage of her ribs, refusing to take flight.
"Olivia, this is madness," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Madness?" Olivia's embrace tightened around her daughter, her performance not missing a single beat. "When you married Oscar, they sent me away. Far away. I was alone, with only my child! It wasn't supposed to be this way... I just wanted her to know her father."
Lies, wrapped in velvet, edged with lace. Marley tasted the bile of them on her tongue.
"Disturb us?" Marley's laugh was a broken thing. "You're doing a bang-up job playing the victim while slashing your own flesh and blood."
Olivia's gaze hardened, but her voice remained soaked in sorrow. "Not disturb. Not steal. Just...a meeting. A father and his daughter. That's all we ever wanted."
Marley's disbelief rose like a tide, threatening to choke her. How far would Olivia go? To harm her own child, to weave such a web of deceit—just to wound Marley?
"Never wanted to steal him," Olivia insisted, her words a melody of manipulation. "Please, believe me."
Believe her? As believable as a snake shedding tears. Marley's heart raced, anger and pity warring within her chest. Anger for the twisted scene before her; pity for the innocent caught in the crossfire.
"Your performance deserves an encore," Marley spat, each word a dagger aimed at Olivia's masquerade. "But even the best actors slip up, Olivia. And when they do, the whole stage comes crashing down."
Marley's defiance was a flame in the wind, flickering but resolute. "I didn't lay a finger on that child. It was her. Olivia did this," she asserted, pointing with an unsteady hand at the woman whose crocodile tears had summoned a sea of curious onlookers.
A murmur trickled through the crowd, heads bobbing above the horizon of judgmental eyes. She drew breath to elaborate, her lips parting, but the words drowned in the tide of bodies that surged and parted to reveal the storm approaching.
"Marley!" The shout sliced the air, a harbinger of the hurtling tempest.
Oscar. His hand sailed through the space between them, striking Marley so hard the room spiraled into a vortex of blurred faces and gasps. The floor rose to meet her as she crumpled, the jolt scattering her thoughts like marbles across a tilted table.
From her position below, her gaze floated upward, locking onto Oscar's towering form, his silhouette a dark guardian over Olivia's feigned fragility. The onlookers, hungry for scandal, unleashed their venom.
"Can you believe her?"
"Shameless!"
"Deserves what she gets..."
Each word was a lash, flaying the skin from her pride. Marley clamped her teeth down on her lip, willing the impending tears back into their ducts. She couldn't—wouldn't—let them see her break.
Her arms screamed in protest, the betrayal of shattered glass a sharp reminder of reality. A crimson trail blazed down her arm, a grotesque river winding from elbow to fingertip. The scent of blood, metallic and pungent, filled her nostrils, staining the pristine marble beneath her in vivid red splashes.
"Get her out of here," Oscar commanded, voice void of any warmth she'd once known. He turned to the Adams' maids, his eyes glacial, his disgust clear as he watched her bleed.
"Always the avenger, never the protector," Marley thought bitterly, but kept her silence.
The crowd parted again, like the Red Sea making way for inevitability, as a man stepped behind her.
"Running away after you bit me?" His voice was a low rumble, private amidst public spectacle, a tease laced with concern. "Not this time."