Chapter 10: The Unseen Pressure

The grand chandelier overhead cast shimmering reflections across the polished mahogany table. The silence around it was thick, almost suffocating. Savannah could feel the weight of Jackson's family's eyes on her, the sharp, unspoken scrutiny as palpable as the heavy scent of roses that lingered in the air.

She sat rigidly, the delicate glass of wine in her hand suddenly feeling too heavy, her fingers gripping it for comfort, trying to steady her racing heart. The dinner had been long, the conversation sparse, and for every polite smile from Jackson’s mother, there was an underlying tension that gnawed at her. She had never been part of such a powerful family, and tonight, it was clear that her place here was as tenuous as the crystal glass that threatened to slip from her fingers.

Jackson sat next to her, seemingly aloof, his usual smile absent, his eyes locked on his plate as he cut into his meal with precision. His silence left Savannah feeling more isolated than ever, and the weight of his family's presence only seemed to magnify the tension.

Eleanor, Jackson’s sister, was seated directly across from Savannah. The woman’s icy demeanor was unmistakable, as if she were made of the same polished marble as the opulent mansion around them. She eyed Savannah with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. A polite smile twisted on her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes, which were sharp, calculating.

Savannah tried to focus on her food, but every bite felt like it stuck in her throat. Eleanor’s gaze was unwavering, and it wasn’t just idle curiosity. No, it was more than that. Eleanor was measuring her, testing her, pushing for a reaction, seeing how far she could go before Savannah showed the slightest crack in her armor.

“What is it like, coming into a family like ours?” Eleanor’s voice broke through the silence, smooth and unhurried, like a blade that cuts so subtly you don’t feel it until it’s too late.

Savannah looked up, trying to keep her expression neutral. “It’s... overwhelming,” she said, her voice careful. “But I’m glad to be here.”

The words felt weak in her own mouth, but she couldn’t afford to show the unease that crept under her skin. Eleanor’s eyes narrowed, and Savannah could feel the storm brewing just beneath the surface.

“Overwhelming?” Eleanor repeated, her lips curling ever so slightly. “That’s an understatement. This house, this family, it’s all so much bigger than you, isn’t it?” The words weren’t a question; they were a statement.

Savannah set her glass down on the table with a soft click. “I’m here because of Jackson,” she said, the firmness in her tone barely masking the tightening of her chest. “That’s what matters.”

Eleanor’s smile widened, but it was the kind of smile you’d expect to see on a predator sizing up her prey. “Jackson?” she asked, as if the word itself tasted strange on her tongue. “How quaint. You really think that’s all that matters here?”

Savannah’s fingers tightened around the edge of her plate, the cold porcelain sending a shock of sensation up her arm. “I know it’s not all that matters,” she responded, her voice low but steady. “But I’m not here for anything else.”

Eleanor’s gaze flicked to Jackson, who, despite being so close to Savannah, seemed as distant as the moon. He was focused on his food, and his silence left Savannah feeling as if she were drowning in a sea of unspoken words. A tension swirled in the air between them, a tension that Jackson never seemed to acknowledge, let alone address.

Eleanor took a slow sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving Savannah. “You know, I’ve been wondering something. What exactly makes someone like you worthy of Jackson’s attention?” she asked, her tone casual, but there was a razor-sharp edge to it.

Savannah stiffened. It wasn’t just a question; it was a calculated assault. The words sank in, deeper than they should have, and she could feel the heat rising to her face. She forced herself to take a slow breath, trying to calm the storm brewing in her chest.

“I think you’re mistaken,” she said, her voice cutting through the air with an edge of defiance. “I’m here because Jackson and I have an understanding. That’s all.”

Eleanor’s smile shifted. It was small, but it was enough to make Savannah’s stomach twist. “An understanding?” she repeated, her tone almost mocking. “How quaint. How charming. Tell me, do you really think you belong here, in this house, in this family?”

Savannah clenched her jaw. She wasn’t about to let Eleanor push her into admitting her doubts, though they lingered like a constant ache in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t part of their world. She didn’t belong in a mansion this large, didn’t know the intricacies of the empire Jackson’s family had built. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t trying. She had to try, for Jackson.

“Yes,” she said firmly, her gaze meeting Eleanor’s. “I do. And if you’ll excuse me, I’d prefer not to be the subject of your inquiries any longer.”

Eleanor’s eyes flashed for a moment, but then she merely tilted her head, as if savoring the way the words tasted. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m just trying to understand the woman who’s suddenly so important to my brother. But I suppose that’s none of my business.”

There was an underlying venom in the words, though she said them with such calmness, such poise, that it was almost impossible to read her intentions. Almost.

Savannah’s heart hammered in her chest. She had to get out of this conversation before she said something she’d regret. She could feel the walls closing in on her, the weight of Jackson’s family settling on her like a burden she wasn’t sure she could carry. She looked at Jackson again, but he was still silent, still lost in his world, completely unaware, or perhaps uncaring, about the storm brewing around them.

Finally, the silence stretched to unbearable lengths, and Jackson’s father, sitting at the head of the table, finally cleared his throat, drawing attention to himself. He wasn’t the type to tolerate drama, even if it was subtle. The commanding presence of his gaze swept over the table, silencing the tension in an instant.

“We appreciate your honesty, Savannah,” he said, his voice cool, his eyes assessing. “But remember, this family runs on respect. And respect is earned.”

Savannah swallowed hard. She wanted to respond, wanted to snap back, to tell them she didn’t need to prove herself to anyone, but the weight of his gaze was too much, and she knew better than to defy him in his own home.

The conversation shifted, but Savannah’s mind raced. The dinner proceeded in silence for the most part, the clinking of silverware the only sound to break the oppressive quiet. The tension was unbearable, suffocating. Every glance from Jackson’s family felt like a silent judgment, a reminder of her place in a world that didn’t want her.

As the meal ended, Jackson’s father stood up, breaking the uncomfortable stillness. His movements were precise, his presence a force that commanded respect without saying a word. “Please, join us in the drawing room,” he said, his tone final.

Savannah stood up with the rest of them, but as she moved toward the door, a voice interrupted her, a voice that sent a chill down her spine.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Eleanor’s voice was sweet but laced with sarcasm. “I doubt you’ll fit in there anyway.”

Savannah’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face neutral as she turned, offering a tight smile. “I’ll be there,” she said softly, the words bitter on her tongue.

As they entered the drawing room, Savannah’s gaze flicked to the corner, where Jackson’s father was engaged in conversation with a man she had never seen before. The man’s sharp suit and calculating smile immediately made her uneasy. Jackson’s father noticed her arrival and, without missing a beat, introduced her to the stranger. But as the man’s eyes met hers, Savannah felt an unshakable sense of dread. This man was not here by accident.