CHAPTER 7.

Grace’s POV.

The moment dinner began, the dining room transformed into a courtroom.

The air grew so heavy that every breath felt like it required permission. Their stares pressed against my skin—heated, invasive—making me painfully aware of my trembling hands resting on the cold mahogany table.

Ryan watched me with a predatory focus that made my stomach churn.

Beside him, Chloe wore an expression of resentment that needed no translation.

Sebastian sat to my right.

Though he hadn’t spoken again, the quiet strength in his posture formed a fragile shield beside me.

I kept replaying his warning from the car.

“Control your mouth.”

I could not afford to prove Ryan and Chloe right.

I had to bury Grace.

And become Isabella.

Chloe broke the silence first.

“I am trying to understand this farce,” she said, her eyes landing on me like a slap.

Her lips curled.

“I have come to a realization. She can't possibly be this ‘Isabella Reed’ you claim.”

Her gaze sharpened.

“She is unequivocally the Grace my husband was having an affair with.”

Sebastian’s palm slammed flat against the table.

The sound cracked through the room like thunder.

“Silence, Chloe!” he snapped. “I have already legally verified her identity and shut down the matter. What more are you trying to prove?”

“No, Sebastian. I cannot be silent.”

Chloe leaned forward, her eyes glittering.

“You bring a woman with a questionable identity into this house and expect us to embrace her?”

She gestured toward me with cold disdain.

“She isn’t just an imposter. She is Ryan’s ex. A woman like her sitting at this table…”

Her voice hardened.

“…stains everything the Knight name stands for.”

Her words landed like darts.

Precise.

Cruel.

And spoken with such confidence that I felt myself shrinking under their weight—a feeling I had not experienced in a long time.

I lowered my gaze to my empty plate, willing myself to turn into stone.

Even if I wasn’t Isabella…

I was still a daughter of the Reeds.

I had a right to exist.

Before I could respond, Sebastian’s voice cut through the tension.

“Enough, Chloe.”

He didn’t shout.

He didn’t need to.

His tone carried a baritone firmness that sucked the oxygen from the room.

“You will stop this now.”

The atmosphere shifted instantly.

Chloe blinked, momentarily stunned by his directness.

Even Ryan shifted slightly in his chair.

My heart gave a quiet, unexpected flutter of gratitude.

But I kept my head down.

Chloe, however, wasn’t ready to retreat.

“I’m only pointing out what everyone with eyes can see,” she said coldly. “She is not—”

“Chloe.”

Sebastian’s warning was a single word.

But it left no room for argument.

She clenched her jaw, her gaze snapping back to me.

“You stay silent because you know I’m right,” she said.

“You sit there, mute, letting him fight battles you’ve already lost.”

Then she reached into her purse.

Her phone slid across the polished table and spun to a stop in front of Gerald.

On the screen was a photo of me.

Grace.

“Look closely, Father. Sebastian.”

Her smile was thin and triumphant.

“This is Grace, Ryan’s ex-girlfriend. Tell me how the woman sitting beside you isn’t the exact same person I confronted earlier today.”

She leaned back.

“The same grifter I warned to stay away from Ryan.”

Sebastian exhaled slowly.

The sound carried dangerous impatience.

With terrifying calm, he placed his napkin beside his plate.

“I have already provided legal verification of her identity,” he said.

“What more do you want?”

His eyes hardened.

“Doppelgängers exist, Chloe.”

He leaned forward slightly.

“And if you continue to use your personal vendettas to harass my wife…”

His voice lowered.

“I will take it personally.”

A beat passed.

“And you know exactly what that entails.”

He leaned back.

“This conversation ends now.”

“No,” a smooth voice said from the doorway.

“It is just the beginning.”

My blood ran cold.

I turned slowly.

Victoria—Ryan’s mother—glided into the dining room.

Ryan had shown me her pictures countless times, but they hadn’t done her justice.

She was beautiful.

Elegant.

Perfectly preserved by money and ice.

And her eyes missed nothing.

She offered a polite, razor-thin smile.

“I understand your protectiveness, Sebastian,” she said as she took her seat.

“But Chloe and Ryan are right to question a stranger who wears a familiar face.”

Her gaze locked onto mine.

Sharp.

Calculating.

“Fortunately,” she continued lightly, “there is a far simpler way to resolve this suspicion.”

The table’s attention shifted toward her instantly.

Chloe leaned back, satisfaction touching her lips.

Ryan leaned forward with anticipation.

Victoria folded her hands gracefully.

“Ryan once mentioned that his ex-girlfriend had a severe, anaphylactic allergy to strawberries.”

My breath caught in my throat.

A faint ringing filled my ears, making the room sound distant, like I was underwater.

“If this young woman is truly who Sebastian claims,” Victoria continued, signaling the maid standing quietly in the shadows, “then she will have no objection to dessert.”

The maid stepped forward.

She placed a porcelain dish in the center of the table.

Victoria smiled faintly.

“Strawberry tart.”

Everything inside me turned to ice.

My palms grew damp.

Ryan watched me carefully, waiting for the crack in my armor.

Chloe looked satisfied—like an executioner watching the guillotine blade rise.

I stared at the tablecloth, afraid that if I looked up, the terror in my eyes would confess for me.

Breathing was no longer automatic.

I had to force air into my lungs.

Sebastian moved first.

“Enough with this madness.”

His chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood.

His anger filled the room—not wild, but contained.

Like a pressure vessel ready to explode.

“No one is testing my wife like a lab rat,” he said.

“This dinner is over.”

He reached down and took my hand.

His grip was iron-strong.

Steady.

Pulling me back from the edge of panic.

I stood on shaky legs, my heart hammering violently.

Ryan rose from his chair.

“Sebastian, don’t be a fool,” he said. “She is not who you think she is. You are walking into a trap.”

“Father, do you hear him?” Chloe added sharply.

“He cannot be allowed to leave. He will bring ruin to this family.”

Sebastian ignored them.

He turned his back on the table.

We began walking toward the exit.

We almost made it.

“Stop.”

The voice was deep.

Gravelly.

Absolute.

Gerald Knight had finally spoken.

The authority in that single word rooted my feet to the floor.

Beside me, Sebastian halted.

Tension radiated from him in waves.

Gerald sat calmly with his hands folded on the table.

Completely unmoved.

“Walking out now means breaking our dinner agreement,” he said.

His voice was quiet.

But the weight of the entire Knight Empire rested on every syllable.

“You know the consequences, Sebastian.”

Sebastian turned slowly, his jaw tightening.

“You expect me to sit here while they interrogate my wife?”

“It is not interrogation,” Gerald replied coolly.

“It is due diligence.”

His gaze drifted toward me briefly.

Clinical.

Emotionless.

“If neither of you has anything to hide, you will allow your wife to prove them wrong.”

He gestured toward the tart.

“One small bite.”

My chest collapsed inward.

He made it sound so simple.

So reasonable.

But for me, that one bite was either a death sentence…

or a confession.

Silence swallowed the room.

The scent of the strawberry tart drifted toward me—sweet and sickening.

My stomach tightened painfully.

A phantom itch crept along the back of my throat.

The Knight Empire stood behind Gerald’s ultimatum.

My allergy stood behind my fear.

Sebastian was trapped between them.

I looked up at him slowly.

Waiting.

A heavy truth settled inside my chest like lead.

If he chose his empire…

I would be exposed.

If he chose me…

he would lose everything.

And I stood in the center of the blast radius.

Waiting to see which world would crumble first.