CHAPTER 50: DINE WITH THE DEVIL

Lucian’s POV

​The clinking of silver cutlery against fine china was the only sound breaking the uneasy silence in the grand dining hall.

​I sat at the head of the table, resting my chin on my hand as I watched the storm brewing beneath the surface. Sitting across from me was Miss Bella, her presence in the De Witt manor striking like a spark in a powder keg.

​My mother sat stiffly beside my father, barely touching her soup. She despised Bella—a sharp, deep resentment stemming from the dark truth of what had transpired years ago. But my father remained entirely blissfully ignorant. I had begged my mother to keep the truth from him back then; I didn't want Bella ruined or destroyed by his iron fist. I had simply banished her from the estate instead.

​My feelings for Bella were... complicated. A tangled, nameless knot of history and residual warmth. She was, after all, likely the only woman I had ever truly loved since I was a foolish teenage boy.

​"This is my wife, Eva," I introduced smoothly, breaking the quiet as I gestured to the sharp-eyed woman seated to my left.

​Bella offered a strained, delicate smile. "A pleasure, Lady Eva."

​"It is so nice to meet you, Miss Bella," Eva replied, her voice smooth, dripping with polite composure. "I have heard so many... interesting stories about you from Lady Eleanor."

​My mother choked slightly on her wine, coughing into a linen napkin, while I buried a dark chuckle behind my glass.

​My father, oblivious to the knife-sharp undertones, turned to offer Bella a warm, booming grin. "Miss Bella has always been a beacon of grace and high standing in Valenridge. A true lady of breeding and refined class—traits that this estate used to take great pride in cultivating."

​He cast a cold, disdainful glance toward Eva, taking a pointed sip of his wine. The message was loud and clear: a maid will never truly belong at this table.

​Eva’s jaw tightened, her hands gripping her napkin under the table as a flicker of discomfort flashed across her eyes.

​Before I could open my mouth to turn the knife on my father, Leo casually set his fork down, his tone dry and effortless. "It is a pity that breeding and class do not guarantee basic manners at the dining table, Father. Eva has managed the estate's ledgers with far more grace in a week than most high-born ladies manage in a lifetime."

​The tension in the room instantly skyrocketed. My father’s eyes narrowed into slits at Leo, but the damage was done.

​Eva glanced up, catching Leo's eyes across the long table. A faint, genuine smile of gratitude crossed her lips, sending a subtle nod toward my brother. Leo returned it with a quiet, reassuring tilt of his head.

​I watched the quiet exchange, my fingers tightening around the stem of my crystal glass until my knuckles turned white.

​Suddenly overwhelmed by the stifling atmosphere, Eva pushed her chair back, standing up from the table. "Excuse me. I will assist the maids with clearing the tea service in the parlor."

​Without waiting for my father's permission, she turned and glided gracefully out of the dining hall, escaping the suffocation of the room—and leaving the lingering heat of my brother's protective gaze burning in her wake.

Eva’s POV

​The heavy atmosphere of the dining hall felt like a tight knot in my chest, and I needed to escape it before I snapped at the Duke myself.

​Walking down the cold stone hallway toward the kitchen with a stack of silver plates in my hands, my mind raced. The tension around that table had been suffocating. Lady Eleanor’s subtle hatred for Miss Bella had been impossible to miss, despite her attempt to play the polite host. There was a dark history there, and I knew I would have to ask the Duchess about it soon.

​As I pushed through the heavy wooden doors of the kitchen, my eyes caught Laura sneaking out through the back scullery exit.

​"Laura," I called out, setting the plates down on a wooden prep table. "May I speak with you?"

​Laura paused in her tracks. She let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh before slowly turning around to face me, folding her arms over her apron.

​"How may i help you my Lady?" Laura taunted, her voice dripping with artificial sweet poison. "Or should I still call you Eva? I truly do not know what the proper etiquette is for a former maid."

​I took a slow step toward her, keeping my composure calm and unwavering. "I regained my memory. The part that involved you."

​Laura raised an eyebrow, a cruel little smile touching her lips. "Well, it is absolute bliss to know I occupy so much importance in that little head of yours."

​"What do you want, Laura?" I asked point-blank, crossing my arms.

​She feigned utter innocence, blinking rapidly. "What do you mean, My Lady? What are you saying?"

​"I heard what you told Lucian," I said, narrowing my eyes at her. "You told him that Lady Genevieve was the one who pushed me down the gallery stairs. Why did you say that? What exactly is your game?"

​Laura scoffed, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe. "Why must you assume I am playing a game?"

​"Because you do not like me," I replied instantly, stepping closer. "You have never liked me. So why would you suddenly confess the truth to protect someone you despise?"

​"Well, I am positively thrilled that you can read between the lines and see just how much I utterly despise you," Laura sneered, dropping the sweet act entirely. "I was simply looking out for you."

​"Looking out for me?" I echoed, letting out a sharp, cynical laugh. "I find that very hard to believe."

​"It may shock that pretty head of yours to hear this," Laura whispered, stepping right into my personal space, "but not a lot of people are pleased that you married Lucian. Or that you are stepping into the shoes of the future Duchess."

​"And Genevieve is one of them," I stated flatly.

​Laura chuckled softly, taking a step backward toward the exit and bowing with mock reverence. "Well... I am simply a humble maid, Eva. I cannot possibly speak on matters involving two jolly old friends, can I? Now, if you will excuse me... Lady Eva."

​She turned on her heel and slipped out into the cold afternoon air, leaving me standing alone in the quiet kitchen with a chilling realization settling deep in my bones.