Transferred to another life

**Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Invitation**

It had been a week since Olivia's tense meeting with Vincent in the parlor, and the days had passed slowly, each one dragging into the next as she kept herself isolated in her room. The grand, suffocating halls of Darkwood Manor had become a prison, and Olivia had no desire to engage with her family. She knew they were watching her, whispering about her behind closed doors. Even Aunt Beatrice had grown distant, her once-firm support seemingly faltering under the weight of the family's suspicions.

Olivia remained hidden, biding her time.

The ornate furnishings of her chamber, the tapestries, the gilded mirrors—all of it felt cold and distant now. She spent her time lost in thought, contemplating her next move, wondering if she had made the right decision by offering Vincent that contract. Each day that passed without a response from him gnawed at her. Had he decided against it? Was he plotting something in secret?

The uncertainty weighed on her.

As the sun began to set on yet another gray and dreary day, Olivia sat by the fireplace, her eyes trained on the flickering flames. Her thoughts swirled with doubts and calculations when suddenly, a sharp sound interrupted the quiet.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It was faint at first, a repetitive pecking sound against glass. Olivia frowned, turning toward the window. There, perched on the sill, was a black raven, its beady eyes fixed on her, its sharp beak tapping insistently on the windowpane.

Olivia's heart skipped a beat. She rose slowly from her chair and approached the window, her pulse quickening as she unlatched it and swung it open. The cold air of the evening rushed in, ruffling her hair, as the raven hopped into the room with a flutter of its dark wings.

Around the bird's leg, tied with a thin piece of black ribbon, was a rolled-up note.

With trembling fingers, Olivia knelt beside the raven, gently untying the ribbon and retrieving the note. The raven cawed once, as if to acknowledge its task, before taking flight, disappearing into the night sky.

Olivia stood there, frozen, the note now clutched tightly in her hand. She felt a strange mix of anticipation and dread as she unrolled it, her eyes scanning the familiar handwriting.

It was from Vincent.

The message was brief, but its meaning was clear:

*Olivia,

It has been long enough. Come to my mansion. We have much to discuss.

Tomorrow at dusk.

-V.*

Her hands trembled as she read and reread the words, the invitation like a pulse of energy jolting her out of her daze. Vincent had finally responded. After a week of silence, of uncertainty, he had sent for her.

Olivia's mind raced. She knew she couldn't trust him, but this invitation was exactly what she had been waiting for—a sign that their pact was still in play. It meant he hadn't discarded her offer. But it also meant she would have to face him again, on his terms, in his home.

She rolled the note back up, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. The fire crackled softly behind her, but all Olivia could hear was the wind howling outside and the weight of Vincent's words echoing in her mind.

Tomorrow at dusk.

With one last glance out the window, she closed it and turned back toward the room, her resolve hardening. She would go to Vincent's mansion. She had no choice but to see this through.

Whatever awaited her there, she knew she had to be ready.

The next chapter of her life, and her battle with the family, was about to begin.