Chapter 4

Valentino stepped in first. His face remained stoic as he stood near the door.

Henry followed right behind. Dressed in a black suit, his presence dominated the room. All eyes snapped to him, a mixture of shock and fear etched on every face.

I clutched Henry's arm, forcing myself to stand tall. Lily's champagne glass trembled in her hand, and a few droplets slipped free.

Yet it was Frank who reacted most intensely. Moments ago, he had been brimming with pride, but the instant he laid eyes on Henry, his face went pale.

He pulled his arm free from Lily's grasp and hurried toward Henry, wearing a look of frantic apology as he dipped his head. "U-Uncle Henry…" he faltered, his voice quivering.

The words "Uncle Henry" left everyone frozen in astonishment.

Henry stopped in his tracks, his gaze on Frank detached and unreadable. "Hello."

Frank could hardly speak coherently. "Uncle Henry… w-why are you here? I thought you—"

"Were dead, huh?" Henry cut in, his voice steady and calm.

Frank's knees buckled. "No, no, no! I could never have imagined that!"

"Do you think this is a trivial matter?" Henry continued, turning toward me. "Accompanying your Aunt Sarah home—is that something trivial in your eyes?"

Aunt Sarah.

The way Frank looked at me shifted in an instant—from disdain and contempt to shock and reverence.

"H-hello Aunt Sarah," he stammered.

I held back a laugh and nodded. "Hello."

The atmosphere at the dinner suddenly grew strange and tense.

As Henry sat at the main table, Frank didn't even dare take a seat. He simply stood there, pouring the wine.

Seeing Henry's cold, imposing expression and the timid Frank, my mother felt a deep pang of regret.

Lily sat across from me, determined not to let me steal the spotlight. She raised her wine glass with a smile. "Hey, Henry. I've heard your health hasn't been the best. It's important to take care of yourself, you know."

At that moment, Frank was busy serving wine to Henry. His hand trembled, and a few drops spilled over the edge.

He shot a panicked look at Lily. "Lily! Shut your mouth!"

Lily froze for a beat, her eyes turning red with grievance. "Honey, why are you yelling at me? I'm just worried about my brother-in-law. If his drinking ends up harming him, who will Sarah have to depend on for the rest of her life?"

I set my fork down. At that moment, a sharp metallic sound rang out beside me; Henry had thrown his knife down onto his plate. The dining room fell into complete silence.

He lifted his gaze, his eyes locking onto Lily.

A chill ran through her scalp. "H-Henry…"

Henry ignored her and turned instead to Frank, who was trembling beside him.

"Frank," Henry murmured. "Is this really the woman you chose?"

Frank's face went pale in an instant. "Uncle Henry, I—"

"How rude," Henry remarked indifferently.

At that moment, a sharp slap rang out through the air.

Lily's head snapped to the side. She froze, staring at Frank in disbelief. "Honey, did you just hit me?"

Frank's eyes were bloodshot. He jabbed a finger at her, his jaw clenched. "Shut up! How dare you disrespect Uncle Henry? You'd better apologize to him!"

Lily covered her face, tears spilling down at once. "I… I didn't—"

"Apologize!" Frank lifted his hand again.

Panicked, Lily instinctively recoiled and turned toward us. "I'm sorry… Uncle Henry… I'm sorry… Aunt Sarah…"

Henry's expression remained unreadable. He picked up a napkin, wiped the corner of his mouth, and rose to his feet. "We're done here," he said, taking my hand without hesitation. "Let's go home."

Frank quickly bowed his head in deference. "Goodbye, Uncle Henry! Goodbye, Aunt Sarah!"

We departed under the crowd's awed, respectful stares.

Inside the car, the closed door separated us from the chaos outside. I stole a glance at the man beside me. He was resting against the seat with his eyes closed. He appeared tired and worn.

"What are you looking at?" Henry suddenly said, still keeping his eyes shut.

I jumped slightly and quickly looked away. "N-nothing. I just… thought you were pretty impressive earlier."

Henry opened his eyes and turned to look at me. "Sarah."

"Yeah?"

"Next time you're out in public, keep your posture straight and confident." He reached out, his slender fingers lifting my chin and tilting my face upward. "You're Mrs. Larson. My wife.

"In Braventhorn's elite circle, only I have the power to make you bow your head." His voice was deep, carrying a sense of authority.

I stared at him in a daze. For a brief second, the part of me that wanted to be a widow wavered.

"No, Sarah! Don't be swayed! What you want is inheritance and freedom!" I thought.

I took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Yes, honey."

Henry's fingers paused for a moment, as though the word "honey" had caught him off guard.

He released his grip, a faint smile curling at the corner of his lips. "Drive."

The car slid into the night. I reached up and touched my chin; it was still warm where he had pinched it.

This road to widowhood seemed far more difficult than I had expected.