Chapter 9 - THE EVENING MEAL|
Dinner at the Moretti estate was usually a tense, formal affair, but tonight the tension was suffocating.
The massive mahogany dining table was set with fine china and sterling silver. Silas sat at the head of the table. To his right sat Rosa and Lily—a stark, jarring sight compared to the last four years when Rosa had been clearing away the plates.
Isabella sat across from them, refusing to touch her soup, her eyes burning with pure venom every time she looked at Lily.
Dante sat near the end, drinking his wine in silence, while Marcus sat beside his father, watching the room closely.
Lily, oblivious to the high-stakes politics surrounding her, was busy using her spoon to turn her mashed potatoes into a small mountain.
"Lily," Rosa whispered nervously, trying to take the spoon. "Eat properly, please."
"Let her play," Silas said gently, reaching over to pat Lily’s small shoulder.
Isabella let out a loud, dramatic sigh. "Silas, really. We are a respected family. Teaching a maid’s child how to behave at a dinner table should be done in the kitchen, not at the head of the table."
Marcus set his glass down with a heavy clack. "Isabella, shut your mouth."
Isabella turned pale. "How dare you speak to me like that! I am your father's wife!"
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"You are his second wife," Marcus corrected coldly. "And you have no blood claim to this table."
Dante suddenly set his fork down, leaning forward, looking directly at Rosa. "Tell me, Rosa... how much did Julian pay you to keep quiet all those years? Or did you just wait until he died so you could blackmail my father?"
