The CEO's Secret Obsession-Chapter 135: Troubled

[Reid Mansion — Dinner]

The dining hall felt different tonight.

Margaret sat at the head of the table with her spine straight and expression unreadable—exactly where she belonged.

Benjamin took the seat to her right without question.

Alexander sat on her left, posture relaxed but attentive, instinctively angled toward her as if guarding her presence.

Pauline sat a little further down, composed, quiet, her hands folded neatly beside her plate.

Olivia sat alone on the opposite side.

Not excluded by instruction but by gravity.

The staff moved with careful efficiency, serving dishes that had not been laid out this way in decades. The clink of cutlery echoed softly, filling gaps no one rushed to close.

Benjamin broke the silence first.

"So," he said, glancing toward Alexander, tone neutral, almost courteous. "How are the wedding preparations coming along?"

Alexander met his father’s gaze. "They are going well. Evelyn has been handling most of it."

Margaret hummed softly. "As she should. A bride who knows what she wants is always a pleasure."

Olivia smiled faintly, seizing the opening. "Weddings can be exhausting though. So many opinions, so many—"

Margaret didn’t even look at her.

"It helps," she said calmly, cutting into her food, "when opinions come from people who actually matter."

Benjamin cleared his throat, pretending not to notice.

Olivia’s fingers tightened around her fork but she kept her smile in place.

Pauline ate quietly, saying nothing, not needing to.

Benjamin turned back to Alexander. "And your recovery?"

"Better," Alexander replied. "I will be back at work fully soon."

Margaret glanced at him sharply. "You will rest. You will work when I say you are ready."

Alexander smiled slightly. "Yes, Grandmother."

Olivia laughed softly, trying again. "Mother, you spoil him."

Margaret finally looked up then—slow, deliberate.

"He is my grandson," she said. "That’s my right."

Silence followed and the dinner continued.

Olivia spoke less and less, each attempt met with polite disinterest or redirected conversation.

Benjamin focused on Alexander, Margaret focused on everything and Pauline remained a quiet constant—present without demanding space.

When the meal ended, Alexander stood first.

"I will walk Grandmother to her room," he said.

Margaret rose, accepting his arm without comment.

Pauline stood as well. "I should rest."

She didn’t look at Olivia.

Benjamin pushed his chair back slightly, instinctively stepping forward but Olivia reached out and caught his hand.

Her grip was gentle and possessive.

"Do you have work tonight?" she asked lightly. "We could turn in early. My room."

Benjamin looked down at her hand on his wrist.

Then he looked past her.

Pauline was already halfway up the stairs.

Just then, she stopped and turned.

Her gaze landed on Olivia first—calm, assessing, unbothered.

Then it shifted to Benjamin.

She gave him a long meaningful look.

Then she turned away and continued up the stairs.

Benjamin gently removed Olivia’s hand.

"Go to sleep," he said quietly. "It’s late."

And without another word, he followed Pauline.

Olivia stood there alone.

The dining hall felt vast now—too big and too quiet.

For the first time in a long while, the Reid mansion no longer felt like hers and that terrified her.

From the far end of the dining room, two pairs of eyes had quietly witnessed everything.

Alexander stood near the sideboard, hands loosely in his pockets, expression unreadable but sharp.

He had seen the way Olivia’s hand lingered on Benjamin’s arm, the way Benjamin had stiffened, the way Pauline hadn’t said a single word and yet had said everything with just a look.

Margaret, seated comfortably nearby, let out a soft, almost amused hum.

"Well," she said lightly, tapping her cane once against the floor, "that was enlightening."

Alexander glanced at her. "You seem pleased."

Margaret smiled, slow and knowing. "I am. It’s been a very long time since this house remembered who it belongs to."

She rose to her feet with practiced grace. "Come," she added, turning toward the hallway. "Let’s have some tea. Watching fools exhaust themselves is thirsty work."

Alexander allowed himself a faint smile.

"Yes, Grandma," he said, following her without another glance back.

....

[Margaret’s Room]

The house had settled into a rare stillness.

Margaret sat near the window with a porcelain teacup resting between her palms, steam curling upward like a soft sigh.

Alexander stood a few feet away, jacket discarded and posture tense in a way that had nothing to do with exhaustion.

She had noticed it the moment he helped her to her seat.

"You look troubled," Margaret said calmly. It wasn’t a question but an observation.

Alexander hesitated, then took the chair across from her. "I am," he admitted. "I keep wondering is all of this really necessary?"

Margaret’s eyes remained on him, sharp but patient.

"We were doing fine," he continued. "Mom had her life. We had ours. Living apart was peaceful. And now suddenly—this house, this tension, this unspoken war—"

He exhaled slowly. "I am worried about her."

Margaret set her cup down.

"That wasn’t peace, Alexander," she said gently. "That was avoidance."

He looked up.

"When your mother left this house twenty years ago," Margaret continued, "it wasn’t because she was weak. It was because she was tired. She was tired of swallowing disrespect quietly and fighting battles no one else wanted to acknowledge."

She leaned back slightly. "Leaving was easier than staying and confronting what came next."

Alexander frowned. "Then why didn’t she divorce him?"

Margaret’s gaze softened but only slightly. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"Because your mother is far more strategic than people give her credit for," she said. "Pauline never divorced Benjamin because she refused to hand Olivia legitimacy."

Alexander froze when realisation hit him. He had never thought of it that way, but now when Margaret mentioned it, everything made sense.

"By remaining Mrs. Reid," Margaret went on, "she ensured that Olivia could live in this house for decades and still never truly belong to it."

She smiled and took a sip of her tea. "Titles matter in families like ours and your mother understood that."

Alexander absorbed that in silence.

"Olivia has slept under this roof for twenty years," Margaret said, "but it was never her house and it never will be."

"What Pauline is doing now," Margaret continued, "is not revenge. It is a correction. Late, perhaps but necessary."

She studied him closely. "Do you know that Jack visited your mother before he left?"

Alexander nodded. "Yes, mom told me he visited but she didn’t share details."

"Pauline hasn’t been the same since," Margaret sighed. "She didn’t tell me what he said. But I saw the shift. Whatever passed between them reminded her of something she buried long ago."

She sighed softly again. "I didn’t expect her to move back here. But it was her idea for the wedding ritual."

Alexander looked up sharply. "Her idea?"

Margaret nodded. "So that you and Evelyn wouldn’t feel like outsiders. So that your home—your real home—wouldn’t feel borrowed."

There was a pause, a heavy silence that lingered in the room.

"I have always stood by Pauline," Margaret said simply. "Even when it was easier not to and I will continue to do so."

Her gaze sharpened just a fraction.

"And so should you."

Alexander leaned back slowly, tension easing from his shoulders.

"I think," he said quietly, "I was afraid she was fighting a battle she didn’t need anymore."

Margaret smiled. "She is finally fighting the one she avoided for too long."

She reached for her teacup again. "And this time, she is not doing it alone."

....