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Chapter 141 - The Seat at the Table

ผู้เขียน: Vivian D. Wilson
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2026-01-08 23:57:11

The dining room was a sea of white linen, polished silver, and faces I only knew from the business section of the newspaper. The air was thick with the scent of roasted lamb and expensive wine. As I walked in, the low hum of conversation didn't stop this time, but the eyes followed me. I could feel the weight of their scrutiny, a collective assessment of whether I was an asset or a liability to the Hale brand.

Jason stood as I approached the table. He pulled out the chair to his right, his fingers grazing the small of my back as I sat down. It was a grounding touch, a silent reminder that he was there, but it didn't stop the coldness radiating from the woman sitting directly across from me.

"You look much more presentable, Samantha," Eleanor Hale said. She didn't look up from her plate as she delicately sliced a piece of meat. "Though I suspect the smell of the deep fryer is a difficult thing to truly wash away in one go."

"I did my best, Mrs. Hale," I replied. I kept my voice level.
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    The word hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. It felt like the room had run out of oxygen. I stared at the paper in Jason’s hand, the white sheet trembling slightly in his grip. My vision blurred, the black ink on the page swimming before my eyes until it was nothing but a series of jagged marks.Pregnant.The nausea from this morning suddenly made perfect sense. It wasn't the cheap ice cream. It wasn't the stress of the lab or the argument with Adrian. It was a biological reality, a tiny, growing anchor that had just dropped into the middle of the wreckage of my life. I looked down at my stomach, then back at the broken glass and the red wine staining the floor. The irony was a physical blow. I had just finished telling him I wanted out, and now I was more tied to him than ever."Say something," Jason said.His voice was different now. The roar was gone, replaced by a low, vibrating intensity. He didn't move toward me, but I could feel his gaze like a brand on my skin. He looked t

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    Every one of the board members sat frozen, their forks suspended in mid-air, their expensive suits suddenly looking like costumes in the face of the raw, jagged energy Samantha had brought into the room.Jason didn’t move. He stood at the head of the table, his face a mask of pale stone, his eyes locked onto the crumpled envelope she had slammed down. He looked like a man watching his carefully constructed world catch fire, unable to decide whether to grab a bucket or let it burn.“Samantha,” he said again, his voice a low, warning rasp. “Enough. Not here.”“Why not here?” she snapped, her voice ringing off the high, vaulted ceiling. She felt the heat rising in her neck, a familiar burn she hadn't felt since the days of arguing over unpaid bills in their cramped university apartment. “Is the truth too loud for this room, Jason? Does it ruin the taste of the wine to know your secretary is the woman who ripped my heart out six years ago?”“Control yourself, Samantha,” a voice cut throug

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    The cold air on the terrace didn't soothe me. It only made the nausea sharper, a cold needle twisting in my gut. I gripped the stone railing, my knuckles white against the dark marble. I was tired of the performance. I was tired of Eleanor’s icy stares and the board members looking at me like I was a budget line item they couldn't quite justify. I just wanted to be back in the lab, where the variables made sense and the outcomes were based on data rather than bloodlines.Then I heard the footsteps. They weren't the heavy, purposeful strides of Jason or the measured, silent movement of Franklin. These were lighter, the rhythmic click of expensive heels that sounded like a challenge.I turned, expecting one of the board members’ wives coming out to offer a backhanded compliment about my dress. Instead, I saw a face that belonged to a version of my life I had tried to bury under years of hard work and late-night shifts.Michaela.She was standing at the edge of the light, her dark hair f

  • The Billionaire Who Bought Me The Moon   Chapter 141 - The Seat at the Table

    The dining room was a sea of white linen, polished silver, and faces I only knew from the business section of the newspaper. The air was thick with the scent of roasted lamb and expensive wine. As I walked in, the low hum of conversation didn't stop this time, but the eyes followed me. I could feel the weight of their scrutiny, a collective assessment of whether I was an asset or a liability to the Hale brand.Jason stood as I approached the table. He pulled out the chair to his right, his fingers grazing the small of my back as I sat down. It was a grounding touch, a silent reminder that he was there, but it didn't stop the coldness radiating from the woman sitting directly across from me."You look much more presentable, Samantha," Eleanor Hale said. She didn't look up from her plate as she delicately sliced a piece of meat. "Though I suspect the smell of the deep fryer is a difficult thing to truly wash away in one go.""I did my best, Mrs. Hale," I replied. I kept my voice level.

  • The Billionaire Who Bought Me The Moon   Chapter 140 - Mask Back On

    The door of the Maybach closed with a heavy, expensive thud, instantly cutting off the sounds of the street. Inside, the air was filtered and smelled faintly of leather.It was a jarring contrast to the scent of burnt coffee and old grease that now clung to my hair and clothes. I caught my reflection in the window. My silk blouse had a dark smudge of chocolate syrup near the hem, and my face was flushed from the heat of the kitchen.Franklin didn't pull away immediately. He remained looking straight ahead, his hands gripped tight on the steering wheel."Mr. Hale is still on the line, miss," he said. "He is waiting for an explanation.""Give me the phone, Franklin," I said, leaning forward.He handed me the handset from the center console. I didn't even have to say hello. Jason’s voice was a low, dangerous vibration on the other end."Where are you, Samantha?""I’m in the car, Jason. We’re leaving now.""Franklin tells me you were in a diner on Fifth Street. Working. Do you have any id

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    Adrian didn't answer immediately. He stood there with his leather satchel slung over one shoulder, his eyes tracing the line of my expensive silk blouse and the diamond that felt like a lead weight on my finger. I knew what he was thinking. He saw a billionaire’s fiancé who lived in a house with thirty rooms trying to pretend she understood the struggle of a fifteen year old girl working a double shift in a grease trap."She doesn't want your help, Samantha," Adrian said. His voice was tired, lacking the bite it usually carried."Yeah... well...," I said, stepping closer to his desk. I kept my voice low so the few remaining technicians couldn't eavesdrop. " I can show her how to handle a rush so she doesn't go home crying. I can be the person she yells at instead of her taking it out on herself. Please, Adrian. Just give me the address."Adrian let out a long, heavy breath. He looked at the floor, then back at me. I could see the conflict in his eyes. He hated the Hale name, but he

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