Chapter 7: Family Meeting

HELENE

The seating arrangement was almost identical to two days ago.

My mother and Noemie sat together on one sofa. I sat alone on the opposite one. My father and Camille occupied the two armchairs.

Only this time, there was no need to wait for anyone to arrive.

Everyone was present.

“I know this is unfair to you,” my mother began, breaking the suffocating silence. A powerless expression appeared on her face as she stood and moved to sit beside me.

Such a familiar opening.

It was exactly how she had started years ago when she ‘persuaded’ me to give up my engagement to Lucien in Noemie’s favor.

And now, they couldn’t wait to hand that very engagement back to me.

The irony was almost amusing.

Unaware of my thoughts, she gently took my hand in hers and gave it a soft pat.

The gesture was clearly meant to be reassuring.

Yet, all I felt was something cold and clammy, like a serpent coiling around my wrist.

I had no intention of enduring the unwelcome sensation nor indulging her performance. So, without a word, I withdrew my hand from her grasp.

Her expression froze—just for a fraction of a second—before smoothing over again.

“This wasn’t an easy decision for us as your parents,” she continued, lowering her head and dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. “But you know your younger sister’s temperament. If she marries Lucien while harboring resentment… we might not only fail to maintain peace; we could even offend the Blackthornes.”

Ah.

So that was the excuse they had chosen.

Such a flimsy justification that even a child would struggle to believe.

They truly hadn’t put much effort into it.

Was it because they thought I was easy to control?

Or was it simply that they didn’t consider my opinion worth the effort?

After all, whether I agreed or not, they intended to make me comply.

A soft chuckle slipped from my lips.

My mother looked up sharply, displeasure flashing in her eyes.

“What a novel perspective,” I said lightly, my gaze sweeping across the room without concealing the sarcasm in my tone. “I never knew a bad temper could serve as grounds to withdraw from a marriage to one’s proclaimed true love… and appoint a replacement bride instead.”

“It’s truly enlightening.”

My father’s face darkened. Noemie bit her lips indignantly.

And my mother... well, she looked even more displeased.

Amusement flickered in my eyes.

“But I believe you’ve found the wrong candidate,” I continued, my expression cooling entirely. “Because my temper is far worse than hers. More than you can imagine.”

The air seemed to solidify.

Everyone’s expression twisted in some fashion—all except Camille.

Perhaps feeling his authority challenged, my father slammed his palm against the armrest.

“Is that how you speak to your parents?” he barked. “You grow more insolent by the day!”

I barely spared him a glance.

Just then, Noemie took the stage.

“I didn’t realize your prejudice against me ran so deep, Helene,” she said tearfully, wiping at her eyes in a gesture almost identical to her mother’s. “I admit I was childish and impulsive before, but I’ve reflected on it now.”

She looked at me with watery, sincere eyes.

“I interfered without thinking. Now, I only wish to return what was originally yours. Like Camille said before, you and Lucien have always been the perfect match.”

How impressive.

In a few simple sentences, her deliberate sabotage had been reduced to childish ignorance. Her attempt to abandon Lucien had transformed into benevolence and a noble act of setting things right. And Camille had conveniently become the sole instigator of it all.

I glanced at Camille from the corner of my eye, curious as to her reaction.

There was nothing to see.

She remained composed, her head slightly lowered, as though detached from the entire scene. A stark contrast to the woman who had tried to win me over that night.

I could tell she sensed my gaze but simply refused to look up.

In the meantime—

“See how thoughtful your sister is?” my mother added gently, looking at Noemie with fond pride. “She has nothing but your best interest in mind.”

The absurdity of it nearly made me laugh again.

I was accustomed to watching them paint black as white, but this?

This was a whole new level of whitewashing.

Had they all conveniently forgotten that two days ago, right here, Noemie had made it clear that she refused to marry Lucien because he was now crippled? That it'll ruin her?

“And besides,” my mother continued, her tone cooling as she turned to me, “isn’t it natural for the elder sister to marry before the younger?”

I snorted with laughter.

“Seriously?” I asked, amusement laced with mockery. “That’s the best argument you could come up with?”

My gaze shifted deliberately to Camille.

“But even if we were to follow seniority… have you forgotten that there’s still someone ahead of me?”

That finally elicited a reaction.

Camille lifted her eyes and met mine after a measured pause.

“Name your terms,” she said calmly. “What will it take for you to marry Lucien? As long as it is within reason and does not jeopardize the family’s interests, we will consider it.”

And there it was.

Her cue.

The opening for me to agree to marry Lucien—and negotiate the severance agreement we had discussed.

Before I could decide whether to play along, my father cut in.

“What about this—in addition to the one percent of shares your grandfather left you,” he declared, his tone lofty with affected generosity, “I’ll add another one percent from my side.”

He leaned back slightly, as though he had just made a grand and unprecedented concession.

“That should be sufficient to convince you.”

I looked at him.

Then at Noemie’s poorly concealed jealousy.

Then at my mother’s reluctant resignation.

And suddenly, I laughed.

“This is… honestly ridiculous,” I managed between breaths, brushing away the tears gathering at the corners of my eyes.

If memory served, Grandfather had once promised that Lucien’s fiancée would receive five percent of Laurent Holdings as a wedding gift.

I remembered this clearly because Noemie had taken particular pleasure in flaunting that fact before me more than once.

Yet now, with me as the prospective fiancée, it had quietly shrunk to one.

Where had the remaining four percent gone?

Evaporated into thin air?

Or was it simply that they deemed me unworthy of the full amount?

Not that I cared about their shares.

But the disparity spoke for itself.

It had always been there. I had always known.

But never had it struck with such brutal clarity as it did at this moment.

To them, I was nothing more than a convenient member of the family.

A placeholder.

My parents were willing to force me into a marriage Noemie did not want.

Camille claimed to offer me a way out, yet withheld information while positioning me like a chess piece on a board I could not fully see.

Different methods. Same objective.

They all wanted to use me. Manipulate me for their own ends.

My laughter stopped as abruptly as it had begun.

The silence that followed pressed in, thick and suffocating.

I stood slowly and picked up my bag.

My gaze swept across their faces—so familiar, yet utterly foreign.

Whether I married Lucien.

Or severed ties with this absurd family.

The choice would be mine alone.

And when I made it—

It would be on my terms.

I turned toward the door, ignoring the sharp calls behind me.

“You’ll have my answer within a day,” I said without looking back.

Then I left.