Transferred to another life

*Chapter Sixty: Arrival at Vincent's Manor**

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The ride to Vincent's estate had been long and tense. Olivia sat in the carriage, watching the landscape pass by, her thoughts racing. Reginald, Charles' secretary, remained silent the entire journey, his eyes forward, a picture of professional detachment. But Olivia couldn't shake the sense of unease gnawing at her.

Her father had sold her to Vincent, and here she was, about to be delivered like a piece of cargo. The weight of her fate felt heavier with each passing mile, but she reminded herself of her plan. She wouldn't be a passive participant. No matter how it looked, she still had some control. She had to believe that.

As they neared the gates of Vincent's manor, Olivia leaned slightly forward to get a better view. The estate was grand—larger than she had remembered. The gates creaked open, revealing a long, tree-lined drive that led to the imposing stone mansion ahead. The sprawling gardens were meticulously maintained, with stone fountains and statues adorning the grounds. It was a place of old wealth and tradition, but there was something colder about it, something that made Olivia shiver.

The carriage finally rolled to a stop in front of the manor's grand entrance, where, to Olivia's surprise, the entire staff had gathered. Maids, footmen, and guards stood in two neat rows, as though waiting to receive her with reverence. Reginald opened the carriage door, stepping out first before offering Olivia his hand.

"Miss," he said quietly, his face expressionless.

Olivia accepted the gesture, stepping down onto the cobblestone path. The staff bowed slightly as she passed, but she couldn't help but feel as though every eye was on her, studying her, judging her. As she glanced around, her gaze fell on Vincent, standing just in front of the grand doors, waiting for them.

His expression was warm, almost charming, but Olivia could see the sharpness behind his smile. And then she noticed something even more striking—behind him were five very large, ornate chests, stacked carefully to the side.

Reginald took note of the chests as well, his eyes narrowing slightly. He stepped forward, addressing Vincent directly. "Lord Vincent," he began, "my instructions are to transport these chests back with us. I will need assistance loading them into the carriage."

Vincent's smile widened, as though he had expected this request. "Of course, Reginald," he said smoothly. He turned his head slightly and signaled one of the guards standing near the entrance. "Get some men to help load the chests into the carriage."

The guard saluted and quickly moved to gather a few other staff members. Olivia watched as they began to carefully lift the heavy chests, carrying them toward the carriage. Meanwhile, Vincent reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small leather-bound ledger, which he handed to Reginald.

"You'll find all the necessary details inside," Vincent said in a tone that suggested he was entirely in control of the situation. "Make sure it reaches Charles without any issues."

Reginald nodded, tucking the ledger under his arm. As the staff continued to load the chests, Vincent casually walked past Olivia. His movement was so fluid, so natural, that she nearly missed it when he leaned in slightly, just enough to whisper in her ear, "Just follow my lead."

The words were soft, almost conspiratorial, and Olivia's heart skipped a beat. What was he planning? What game was he playing? She kept her face neutral, nodding slightly as if nothing had passed between them.

Vincent straightened, his charming demeanor slipping back into place as he addressed the staff once more. "Please, make sure the lady is well taken care of. I expect nothing but the best for her."

He then turned to one of the maids, a young woman with a neatly pressed uniform and a soft expression. "Take Lady Olivia to her new room and make sure she is refreshed. She's had a long journey."

The maid curtsied, her eyes avoiding Olivia's as she stepped forward. "This way, my lady," she said softly.

Olivia hesitated for a brief moment, glancing toward the chests being loaded into the carriage. There was a strange feeling in her gut, a sense that something significant was in motion, but she couldn't quite place it yet. Vincent's words echoed in her mind—*follow my lead*—and she knew she had to play along, at least for now.

With a measured breath, Olivia nodded and followed the maid through the grand entrance of the manor.

The inside of Vincent's estate was just as imposing as the outside—high ceilings, grand staircases, and hallways adorned with portraits of stern-faced ancestors. The air was cool and smelled faintly of lavender, but it didn't feel like a home. It felt like a place of power, carefully cultivated and maintained for appearances.

As they walked down the long corridors, the maid glanced at Olivia nervously, as if afraid to speak. Finally, after a few minutes, they reached a door at the far end of the hall. The maid opened it, revealing a lavishly decorated room with a large four-poster bed, silk curtains, and an adjoining dressing area.

"Your room, my lady," the maid said softly, bowing her head.

Olivia stepped inside, her eyes scanning the space. It was beautiful, but it felt foreign. She turned back to the maid, her voice calm. "Thank you. That will be all."

The maid curtsied again before hurrying away, closing the door softly behind her. Olivia stood there in the silence, her mind whirling with thoughts of the conversation with Vincent, the chests, and her father's cold, calculating decision.

She walked over to the large window, looking out over the estate's vast grounds. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the land. She knew she was stepping into dangerous territory, but there was no going back now.

Vincent had told her to follow his lead—and for the time being, that's exactly what she would do. But she wouldn't forget her own plans, her own ambitions. Whatever Vincent was scheming, she would be ready.

As the darkness crept in, Olivia knew that the next move would be hers.