Transferred to another life

**Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Decision Made**

The candles flickered softly as Olivia made her way down the dimly lit corridors of Darkwood Manor, the stone walls towering over her like silent sentinels. She felt a knot tightening in her stomach with every step, but there was no turning back now. She needed to see her father, Charles, and request his permission to attend the meeting with Vincent. Though she didn't expect his blessing, she needed to maintain the appearance of propriety.

When she reached the heavy oak door to her father's study, Olivia took a deep breath and knocked softly. After a moment, she heard her father's gruff voice from the other side.

"Enter."

Olivia pushed open the door, stepping into the room where Charles sat behind his large, mahogany desk. The study was filled with the smell of old leather and tobacco smoke. Her father barely glanced up from the papers he was reviewing, his face illuminated by the warm glow of the fire in the hearth.

"Father," Olivia began, her voice steady though her heart raced. "I've come to ask for your permission to leave for an important meeting with Vincent tomorrow."

Charles looked up at her, his expression unreadable. He set his quill down with a slow, deliberate movement and leaned back in his chair, regarding her with a mixture of cold authority and mild disdain.

"Vincent," he muttered, as if tasting the name. "I see."

There was a long pause, during which Olivia felt the air between them grow heavier, the weight of her father's presence looming over her. She was about to explain further when Charles interrupted her thoughts with a revelation that sent a chill down her spine.

"Vincent sent me a note," he said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "He's offered a considerable sum of money in exchange for your hand in marriage."

Olivia's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't expected Vincent to go directly to her father, nor had she anticipated this—an outright marriage proposal, with money involved. The shock of it paralyzed her for a moment, but she quickly masked her emotions, keeping her face neutral.

"Father," she began cautiously, "I had no idea he had already spoken to you. But I had intended to—"

Charles cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I don't care what you intended, Olivia. The deal has been made. You will attend this meeting with Vincent. You are no longer allowed to stay here if you plan on avoiding it."

His tone was final, the words hitting her like cold stones. Olivia opened her mouth to protest, but her father's stern gaze froze her in place. She could see the calculation in his eyes, the way he viewed her as nothing more than a tool to further his wealth and influence. It wasn't about her happiness—or even her future. It was about power. Always power.

"I've given him my approval," Charles continued, his voice hard. "It's in my interest—and the family's—that you go to Vincent. You will marry him, Olivia. You don't have a choice in the matter."

Olivia felt the walls close in on her. Her heart raced as the implications of her father's words sank in. The deal was done. The marriage wasn't just a possibility anymore—it was a command.

Charles glanced toward the door and called out, his voice sharp. "Martha!"

A moment later, one of the maids hurried into the study, her head bowed. "Yes, sir?" she asked.

"Prepare a carriage for my daughter," Charles ordered. "She will leave immediately for Vincent's estate tomorrow morning."

Olivia could hardly process what was happening. Her father was arranging everything for her without a second thought, as though she were a mere possession to be transferred.

But what came next shocked her even more.

"Reginald!" Charles barked, and the door opened again, this time revealing his secretary—a tall, broad-shouldered man with a serious expression, his hair neatly combed and his suit immaculate. He stood rigidly at attention, waiting for Charles' orders.

"Reginald will escort you," Charles said, his voice taking on a commanding edge. "I won't have you traveling alone. He'll make sure you arrive at Vincent's estate safely."

Olivia stared at her father, disbelief flashing in her eyes. His secretary? Reginald had never been anything more than a background figure in the household, a man who dealt with ledgers and correspondence, not family matters. And now, he was to accompany her to Vincent's mansion?

"Is that really necessary?" Olivia asked, her voice tight with a mix of confusion and frustration. She felt trapped, cornered by her father's sudden decisions.

"Yes, it is," Charles snapped, his eyes narrowing. "I trust Reginald to see this through. You are my daughter, and I will ensure that this transition is smooth, regardless of what you think."

Olivia clenched her fists at her sides, knowing that arguing further would be futile. Charles had made up his mind, and there was no swaying him. He saw this as a strategic victory—securing Vincent's wealth through marriage and keeping Olivia out of the family's way.

She swallowed her pride and bowed her head slightly. "I understand, Father."

Without another word, Charles dismissed her with a flick of his hand, already turning back to his paperwork as if she no longer existed in the room.

As Olivia left the study, her mind raced. Her father had effectively sold her to Vincent for a price, and now Reginald, the ever-watchful secretary, would be her escort, ensuring that her father's wishes were carried out.

The pieces of her plan were shifting rapidly, and Olivia knew she had to adapt. Vincent's mansion awaited, and so did the next stage of her dangerous game.

Tomorrow, everything would change again.