A SEAT AT THE TABLE

Emily

“Get cleaned up,” James said coldly, his eyes scanning me like I was some sort of lost cause. “We’re having dinner tonight. And I expect you to behave like a normal human being.”

And then he walked away. No explanation. No apology. Nothing.

Two maids came in moments later like they’d been waiting all along, dragging me into a bathroom that looked more like a museum than a place to wash.

They scrubbed me like I was dirt beneath their nails, their faces blank and void of emotions, their hands rough.

I bit back tears as they combed out my tangled dirty hair, forced me into a silk red dress that clung to every bruise on my body like it wanted to mock my pain.

I stood in front of the mirror and barely recognized the girl looking back. She looked clean, polished, even beautiful but her eyes were empty. Hollow. Angry with regret and hate, my so-called father actually threw me into this.

I wasn’t ready for dinner. I wasn’t ready for James.

I was still suffering. Still broken. But I showed up, I don't have any options do I?

The dining hall was massive, golden chandeliers waving like stars about to fall from the sky. Long table. Fancy plates.

Everything gleamed. James sat at the head, looking godlike in a black suit, emotionless as ever. When his eyes flicked to mine, something in my stomach twisted, something I can't really explain.

Beside him sat a woman I hadn’t seen before, long legs, sharp jawline, smile like a blade dipped in honey. She looked expensive. Dangerous.

“Emily,” James said, voice smooth. “Meet Naomi.”

Naomi. The name dropped like a hammer in my chest.

His ex or who is she?

Naomi didn’t rise to greet me. She simply looked at me with narrowed eyes,eyes filled with hatred for me,like she hated me at first sight, her lips curling. “So you’re the girl,” she said, tilting her head. “Cute. In a wild dog sort of way.”

I swallowed hard and sat down opposite her, trying to act like her words didn’t stab me. Dinner started in silence, plates clinking, the sound of forks against porcelain the only music in the air.

And then it happened….

Naomi lifted her glass, smiling. “Oops,” she said sweetly and poured the entire glass of red wine straight into my lap.

It was cold. Sticky. Violent.

The table fell silent. My heart raced as everyone watched the wine drip down my thighs, soaking into the silk dress like blood.

I looked at James. He just sat there, doing nothing.

Didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink.

Naomi dabbed her mouth with her napkin and said with a smile, “She startled me. Probably made me spill. Shouldn’t she apologize?”

I looked at her, then at James. My lips trembled with shock, disdain and fear all together.

“Apologize,” James said calmly, without looking at me.

I wanted to scream. To run. To tear the tablecloth and flip every dish off that damn table.

But instead, I stood up with shaking legs, wine dripping down my knees.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Naomi smiled like she’d just won a crown. “Didn’t catch that, sweetheart. Louder.”

“I said I’m sorry,” I repeated, voice cracking.

She leaned forward. “Now… be a good girl and kneel. Since we’re all playing house.”

I froze at that moment….

“You heard her,” James said, cutting into his steak like this was all a game. “Kneel.”

I dropped to my knees.

The floor was cold. I bent my head as tears burned down my face. My hands trembled against the marble. I wanted the earth to swallow me whole.

Naomi laughed, that cruel, high-pitched sound that made my soul curl. “You kneel well. Guess you’ve had practice.”

Naomi rose from her seat, walked over to James, and slid into his lap like she belonged there. She draped an arm around his shoulder, whispering something into his ear that made him smirk.

Then, in front of me, she kissed him. Deeply. Passionately.

And he let her. No. He kissed her back. I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood.

She turned her attention back to me, still sitting on his lap. “You don’t belong here, darling. You’re just a pity project. A thing he picked up to pass time.”

I stood, still shaking, my fists clenched. “You think I’m scared of you?”

Naomi smiled wide. “Oh honey, you should be.”

She strode over and slapped the rest of her wine in my face. I gasped, the sting immediate, the cold slicing through my skin.

My eyes searched for James.

He. Did. Nothing. Just sat there.Like I wasn’t even real. Like I didn’t matter.

That’s when the tears came again. Hot, silent, angry.

I turned to leave the table, humiliated, broken, and breathless.

And just as I reached the doorway, I heard James call my name.

“Emily.”

I paused. Slowly turned back. His eyes locked on mine dark, unreadable.

“Tonight, you’re sleeping in my bed.”