Married Before Midnight by Sienna Quinn - Chapter 9

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Married Before Midnight by Sienna Quinn


Chapter 9: A Spark of Hope


Olivia Carter’s shoes scuffed lightly against the polished marble steps of Victoria Langley’s mansion, her heart pounding as she hesitated before pressing the doorbell. The grandeur of the house was overwhelming—ivy curled around white pillars, the windows gleamed like liquid gold in the afternoon sun, and the air smelled faintly of roses. She smoothed the wrinkles from her school dress, suddenly hyper-aware of how ordinary she must look against such opulence. The door swung open before she could second-guess herself. A tall, silver-haired butler in a crisp black suit regarded her with polite detachment. "You must be Miss Olivia Carter," he said, his voice smooth as aged whiskey. "Yes, sir," Olivia replied, gripping the strap of her book bag tighter. "Mrs. Langley is expecting you. Please follow me." The inside of the mansion was even more breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers cast delicate rainbows across the walls, and the floors were so polished Olivia could see her own wide-eyed reflection. She resisted the urge to touch anything, afraid she might leave fingerprints on the pristine surfaces. Victoria Langley sat in a sunlit parlor, sipping tea from a delicate china cup. She looked up as Olivia entered, her sharp blue eyes softening. "Olivia, dear, you made it." Olivia swallowed. "Yes, ma’am. Thank you for giving me this opportunity." Victoria set her cup down with a soft clink. "No need for formalities. Come, sit." Olivia perched on the edge of an embroidered chair, her knees pressed together. She had never been in a room so quiet—no sisters bickering, no pots clanging in the kitchen, just the faint ticking of a grandfather clock. "I trust you had no trouble finding the house?" Victoria asked. "No, ma’am. It’s not far from my school." "Good." Victoria studied her for a moment. She didn’t press further, and Olivia was grateful. The butler—Mr. Whitmore, as Olivia learned—guided her through her tasks with patient instruction. Setting the table was easy enough, though she nearly dropped a silver fork when she realized how heavy real silverware was. Washing dishes was familiar, but the Langley’s porcelain was thinner than anything she’d ever handled. She moved carefully, afraid of chipping a plate that probably cost more than her family’s monthly groceries. "You’re doing fine," Mr. Whitmore assured her when she hesitated over the laundry. "Mrs. Langley doesn’t expect perfection on your first day." Olivia nodded, but the fear of making a mistake gnawed at her. This job wasn’t just about earning pocket money—it was about helping her family. If she messed up, she could lose it. By the time she finished her tasks, the sun had dipped low, painting the mansion’s halls in amber light. Victoria called her back to the parlor before she left. "You did well today," she said, handing Olivia a crisp ten-dollar bill. Olivia’s breath caught. That was more than she’d expected. "Thank you, Mrs. Langley." Victoria smiled. "I’ll see you tomorrow, then?" Olivia nodded eagerly. "Yes, ma’am." The walk home was quiet, the streets bathed in twilight. Olivia clutched the money in her pocket, her heart swelling with pride. It wasn’t much, but it was something—a small step toward Sweet Beginnings, toward easing her mother’s burden. For the first time in months, she let herself imagine a future where things weren’t just about survival. Where maybe, just maybe, they could thrive.