ODETTE/OPHELIA'S POV
It is embarrassing.
Jessica sits across from me at the breakfast table. Ivy is next to me, making polite conversation with a few girls I don't know, but I can feel her body tense, stiff beside mine. Everyone is feeling it—the sheer, overwhelming presence of Jessica Black.
Her slender fingers move gracefully as she cuts her pancakes into precise, small bites. Ivy shifts in her seat, clearly overwhelmed.
"I wasn't expecting to see you at breakfast, Jessica," Ivy says, her tone polite and carefully controlled, trying not to fumble.
Jessica sips her orange juice calmly, not even looking up. "I had some business."
That's all. No opening for further conversation. The silence that follows is heavy, thick with unspoken tension. Someone sips their coffee a bit too loudly.
As if suffocated by the quiet, my soon-to-be mother-in-law, Helen, speaks up. "Yesterday was eventful." She looks directly at me. "My brother seems to care a lot about you, Ophelia."
I still for a fraction of a second. My heart skips a beat at her implication.
Kayros taking a stand for me against the Dimitris has sent a clear signal—the Cub of Black Wolf has marked me as someone he protects.
A faint, soft edge touches my lips. "I guess that's one way to put it."
Jessica's gaze snaps to me. It's cold. Measuring. Her grip around her juice glass tightens, just for a moment.
Confusion and questions swirl inside me. Why does she look so angry? So… jealous? In the novel, Kayros and Jessica met later, but that doesn't mean feelings can't bloom early. And that thought alone feels like poison in my mind.
I thought I had three years to make Kayros mine, to cement my place before she ever appeared. But she's here now.
What if—
No. I don't want to think about it.
My chest tightens. A slow inhale does nothing to ease the thickening air.
"I think it was childish of you to provoke Vincent publicly."
My body stiffens as Jessica's cold voice cuts through the quiet.
Her burgundy eyes look down at me as if I'm a pest, unworthy of sitting at the same table.
A few women gasp softly. Helen and Lia freeze, forks suspended mid-air.
My eyes darken. "Excuse me?"
Jessica remains unaffected, sipping her juice with the arrogance of someone who has always had everything handed to her. "You insulted Vincent Dimitri in front of his father. You provoked him into slapping you because you're too weak to stand your ground. You forced Kayros, your father, and even Blake Nathaniel to step in to clean up your mess." She sets her glass down with a soft clink. "That makes you a burden. A child who doesn't understand what's at stake."
She pauses, taking my silence as submission. "I pity the Nathaniel and Blackwood families for having someone like you."
Ivy stands up beside me, her face flushed with fury. "Jessica Black. Since when has insulting your host become acceptable behavior for the gem of the Black family?"
Jessica rolls her eyes dismissively. "I'm just stating facts. It must be hard for you, Ivy. After all, your sister technically holds more authority than you now, as the fiancée of Kayros Nathaniel."
It's a low blow. Color drains from Ivy's face as if she's been punched.
Ivy didn't stand up for me because she cares—she stood up because I'm a Blackwood, and in public, family loyalty trumps personal hatred.
The irony isn't lost on me.
Ivy slowly sits back down, shoulders trembling with humiliation. Jessica's lips twitch in a faint, satisfied smirk as she takes another sip.
Her spine is straight, her eyes gleaming with pure, unapologetic pride.
And if that doesn't make my hand itch to wipe that look off her face.
"You sound like someone who's jealous," I say, my voice calm and clear. "Jealous that I have three of the most powerful men in the underworld protecting me."
Jessica's smirk drops. Lia chokes on her coffee. Helen presses her lips together, fighting a smile.
In the novel, those two never got along with Jessica—not because of Kayros, but because Jessica's natural aura of authority made them feel small.
Jessica's eyes darken. "Why would I be jealous?"
"I see no other reason why," I pause, letting my smile turn cold enough to send chills down her spine, "you'd be insulting me."
Jessica looks momentarily baffled, her cheeks flushing with the realization that I've twisted her own words against her.
Still, she tries to hold the upper hand. "Too big words for a woman who is nothing without her family name."
I let out a soft chuckle. This is something Jessica said often to Ophelia in the novel—a cheap attempt to break her confidence. But I find it hilariously transparent.
Jessica frowns, shifting in her seat. "Why are you laughing?"
I shake my head, amused. "I'm just entertained that you thought I'd feel ashamed."
Her frown deepens. "You should be. You're just a pawn. A woman with no value beyond the name you carry."
"In that case," I say lightly, "you should drop your family name, too. And so should every other woman at this table—since, by your logic, we're all just pawns."
The other women begin to look at Jessica with open disdain. Even Helen and Lia watch her with cold eyes, as if they'd love to see her falter.
Jessica trembles with anger, her eyes hardening. "You're too arrogant."
I keep smiling. "No. I'm just a woman who was lucky enough to be born a Blackwood and is now marrying into the Nathaniel family."
Jessica pauses. A slow, dangerous smile creeps across her face. The air between us crackles with tension. One of the women at the far end of the table whispers anxiously to a server, as if fearing an explosion.
"What makes you think either of those families actually cares about you?" Jessica's voice drops, venomous. "As far as I know, aren't you the black sheep of the Blackwoods? The one born at the cost of her mother's life?"
Ivy's eyes widen. Her breathing hitches audibly. That one was sharp—a direct strike at a wound that has never fully healed.
I feel a cold, shivering pain creep beneath my skin… but I show nothing.
"We stand on the same ground, then," I reply, my voice eerily calm. "Didn't your mother and eldest brother die while protecting you, Jessica?"
Something in Jessica snaps.
She slams her hand down on the table. "OPHELIA!"
I meet her gaze dead-on. No softness. No empathy.
Why should I show any? She brought up Ophelia's deepest scar without a second thought.
"What?" I press, my voice steady. "You ran away from home. Got kidnapped. Your entire family came to save you, and your mother and brother died because of it."
I emphasize the last three words.
Jessica's hands are trembling. Her breathing turns ragged. Around us, people stare at me as if I'm the villain—bullying an innocent woman who carries the weight of the world.
"You're so cruel," she whispers, her voice cracking with pain.
"You brought up my mother first."
She loses control. "YOU ARE JUST A MONSTER WHO WAS BORN AT THE COST OF HER MOTHER, HATED BY HER FATHER AND SIBLINGS! MY MOTHER AND BROTHER LOVED ME DEARLY—UNLIKE YOU! YOU COULD DIE AND NO ONE WOULD PROTECT YOU!"
Each word is a dagger. Ivy watches me closely, waiting for a reaction—because the real Ophelia would have shattered at a reminder like that.
But all I feel is… numbness.
A chilling, bone-deep numbness that confuses even me.
Why am I not in pain? Why aren't I crying? Why don't I feel anything?
Or is it that I'm feeling too much—so much that it's looped back around to nothing?
Jessica doesn't wait for a reply. She pushes back her chair and rushes out of the dining room.
Around me, there are soft murmurs of pity—for her. People understand her pain. They blame me for being cruel.
But no one turns to me. No one asks if I'm okay.
It's nothing surprising.
Ophelia Blackwood was always treated as the villainess, even when she did nothing wrong.
At least this time, I didn't just sit and take it.
Jessica Black… you're right about one thing.
You are loved. Deeply, truly, unconditionally loved.
Not Ophelia. Not me.
You are the one everyone cares about.
And that realization aches in my heart a little more than I'd like to admit.