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Chapter 40: Gala Countdown

Author: FortunaSolis
last update Last Updated: 2025-12-29 19:50:21

Florentis Quarter surrendered its quiet to preparation.

By midmorning, delivery trucks lined the narrow streets with disciplined precision. Crates of glassware were unloaded with gloved care. Fabric rolls sealed in ivory plastic were passed hand to hand. Lighting rigs were maneuvered as though sacred objects, never dropped, never rushed. The heritage gala did not arrive suddenly. It advanced. Methodical. Unavoidable.

Inside Bloom House Floral, the air was dense with green scent and restrained urgency.

Lillian stood at the center of the controlled chaos, sleeves rolled, hair secured, apron darkened at the hem. The centerpiece components had been assembled overnight in sections, each arrangement resting in shallow trays of water like disciplined formations awaiting deployment.

She moved among them with practiced economy. Fingers checked stem tension. Adjusted spacing. Corrected a lean here, eased a crowded bloom there. The design held exactly to her promise. Contrast without conflict. T
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    The argument did not end with raised voices.It ended with silence.Not the brittle kind that demanded distance, but the heavy kind that settled between two people who had finally said too much and still not enough.Lillian stood by the window in Nathaniel’s study, arms wrapped around herself, watching the lights of Virex City pulse like a living thing below. She felt exposed in a way that had nothing to do with words. She had accused him of control. He had admitted fear. Neither of them had known where to place what came after.Nathaniel remained near the desk, one hand braced against its edge, his posture contained but no longer rigid. He had not moved to leave. That alone felt like a choice.“I am not trying to own you,&rdquo

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    Lillian did not raise her voice.That, more than anything, unsettled Beatrice.They sat in the smaller sitting room at Celestine Heights, the one that overlooked the inner garden rather than the city. It was a deliberate choice. Fewer eyes. Fewer echoes. Beatrice always chose spaces like this when she intended to steer rather than confront.Lillian remained standing.She had learned, over the past months, that sitting invited control. Standing kept her spine aligned with her will.“You have elevated me,” Lillian said calmly. “Publicly. Repeatedly. You have praised me in rooms where praise becomes currency.” She paused. “I need to know why.”Beatrice folded her ha

  • A Contract The Empire Couldn't Break    Chapter 216: Almost a Confession

    Lillian waited until the house settled into its evening quiet before she sought Beatrice out.Celestine Heights changed character after dusk. During the day it was ceremonial, full of measured footsteps and curated light. At night it softened. Lamps glowed instead of gleamed. Corridors held shadows that felt less like surveillance and more like memory.Beatrice sat in the small sitting room adjacent to the garden, a space she used rarely and never for guests of consequence. That alone felt deliberate. A fire burned low in the hearth, unnecessary for warmth in Aurelia’s climate, but comforting in its symbolism.“You asked to see me,” Beatrice said, not turning from the window.Lillian remained standing. “Yes.”

  • A Contract The Empire Couldn't Break    Chapter 215: The Question That Refuses to Stay Silent

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