Chapter 3
Hudson was known in high society as the model gentleman, without a hint of scandal, always spotless.
He did not smoke, drink excessively, go to nightclubs, or keep company with women.
When my dad first laid his file in front of me, he had something nice to say for once. "Say what you will, but the guy's spotless, and easy on the eyes too. You won't be marrying beneath yourself."
I skimmed through his profile.
Hudson held a master's degree from a prestigious university. At twenty-eight, he was the head of Rivers Corporation and had no scandals attached to his name.
"He's the one," I decided.
Marriage, for me, was always a business deal.
My dad built his empire from nothing, a tiny building materials shop, to the legendary Jordan Enterprises, all in thirty years flat.
I was his only daughter. I took over the company at twenty-four and doubled its market value in just two years.
In the business world, when people hear the name Victoria, they don't think heiress or daughter of the Jordan family. They saw the young boss who got things done.
No matter how capable I was or how high I'd climbed, I couldn't escape marriage when the time came.
It wasn't about what I wanted; the whole Jordan family needed a stable, well-matched alliance.
After growing up with nothing but the best our family had to offer, I knew my marriage had to be a power play, one where both sides brought equal strength to the table.
*****
When I walked into the hospital room, I could hear laughter and playful voices coming from inside.
Even with a bleeding ulcer, Hudson seemed to be in surprisingly good spirits.
I leaned against the doorframe, amused, careful not to disturb the peaceful vibe inside.
Naomi was there too.
After Hudson's bleeding was under control, Naomi heard he was in the hospital and rushed over with a pot of homemade soup.
She was feeding him.
"Vicky, you're here," Hudson said when he saw me. He moved Naomi's spoon aside and sat up with some effort, bracing himself with one hand.
He gave me a weak smile, his face pale and drained.
He looked like he'd been through hell.
I shrugged and walked in, looking completely unbothered.
"Mrs. Rivers," Naomi greeted me, putting on that innocent act.
She seemed way more relaxed than she did at the wedding.
I didn't acknowledge her, stood a short distance away with my arms crossed. "Are you feeling any better now?
"Work was crazy today, so I could only make it now. Sorry."
Honestly, as a wife in a marriage of convenience, I was never as thoughtful as Naomi.
"It's fine," Hudson said.
He reached out, and I went over, letting him take my hand. He ran his thumb slowly over the back of it.
"Are you tired? Is your headache any better? Want to lie down and let me rub your temples?" His voice was as calm as ever, like the first time we met.
If it hadn't been for that whole act where he played the hero and took the drink for her, I might've actually thought he was a pretty good husband for an arranged marriage.
"Vicky, want me to give you a massage? I'm really good at it," Naomi piped up, tucking her hair behind her ear.
She cut right in, getting all nostalgic. "Back when Hudson was stressed from work, I'd give him a massage, and he'd relax in no time."
She suddenly loomed large in my view.
There was no way I could keep ignoring her now.
I smirked, pulled out my phone, and called someone in.
Not three seconds later, a few tall, muscular men in black strode into the room.
They bowed to me. "Ms. Jordan."
I lifted my chin, cool and unbothered. "Get her out of here."
Naomi instantly panicked, struggling in vain as the bodyguards firmly restrained her.
"Vicky, why are you throwing me out? I came as a friend. What did I do wrong?" Naomi pleaded.
Just then, Hudson gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Vicky, don't misunderstand. She only arrived."
I stayed stone-faced, completely unmoved.
Hudson gave Naomi a meaningful glance. "You should go."
Naomi's face turned red with embarrassment and frustration as she turned to grab her phone and head out.
In a cold voice, I said, "Wait."
With both of them watching, I picked up the leftover soup.
I had someone hand Naomi 150 dollars. "Ms. Carter, the market rate for a caregiver is only 100 dollars a day, but..."
I flashed Hudson a sweet, almost mocking smile. "He is my husband, and I have plenty of money. Thanks for it. You're off the clock now."
Naomi looked like she'd been slapped, with tears brimming in her eyes, the corners turning red. Anyone looking at her would probably think she was pitiful.
She snapped, "Vicky, I know you and Hudson are married, and that you're the perfect match for each other. But Hudson's my friend.
"I was taking care of my friend. What would I want your money for? You're really insulting both Hudson and me with this."
She threw the 150 dollars onto the floor.
Her back was ramrod straight, stiff with pride. "Just because my family background isn't as impressive as yours doesn't mean I don't have ambition."