Chapter 226
Chapter 226:
“My friends,” Beatrice announced, her voice projected by the acoustics of the hall, “I present to you the future of the Kensington legacy. Despite the persecution, despite the cruelty spread by jealous women p>
Beatrice glared directly at Skye.
“…the heir survives p>
Seraphina placed both hands on her stomach and looked down demurely. A murmur went through the crowd. Some people looked uncomfortable; others looked sympathetic.
It was a powerful image: the frail, pregnant woman against the cold, red-clad ex-wife.
Beatrice began to move toward the microphone, pulling Seraphina with her. They headed straight for the head table, a path that took them directly past where Skye stood.
Beatrice stopped three feet from Skye.
“Move,” Beatrice said. “You are blocking the way for the mother of my great-grandson p>
The room went deadly silent. Even the waiters stopped moving.
Skye swirled the wine in her glass. She looked at the red liquid, then slowly raised her eyes to Beatrice.
“Heir?” Skye asked. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried. A nearby boom mic for the event’s livestream picked it up perfectly. “Since when does a ‘legacy’ require a bribed judge and a falsified medical report just to attend a dinner party p>
The gasp from the crowd was audible.
Gabriel Ross snorted into his drink, the sound echoing in the silence.
Seraphina flinched. Her face went from pale to chalk-white. She gripped Beatrice’s arm.
“Beatrice p>
“How dare you,” Beatrice hissed, shaking with rage. “You are bitter because you are barren. You are jealous because Liam chose her p>
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“Chose?” Skye laughed. It was a sharp, brittle sound. “He didn’t choose her, Beatrice. He got stuck with her because she knows where the bodies are buried. Literally p>
Liam shoved his way through the crowd. He couldn’t let this happen. Not here. Not live.
“Skye!” Liam roared. He stepped between his grandmother and his ex-wife. “Stop it! Have some dignity p>
Skye looked at him. Her eyes were empty of love, empty of hate. They were just mirrors reflecting his own pathetic desperation.
“Dignity?” Skye asked. “Liam, you brought your mistress—who is currently violating the terms of her parole by attending a social event—to a charity gala. You are the punchline of this entire city p>
“She is carrying my child!” Liam shouted, his face flushing red.
“Is she?” Skye took a step closer to Seraphina. Seraphina recoiled, shielding her stomach.
“Are you sure, Seraphina?” Skye whispered, but the mic caught it. “Are you sure it’s a Kensington? Or is it just… leverage p>