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Chapter 441
Chapter 441:
Old Mr. Clements was in high spirits. He sat at the head of the long mahogany table, laughing loudly as he recounted embarrassing stories from Brogan’s childhood. June sat near him, offering polite, genuine smiles and doing her best to navigate the pleasantly awkward situation. Across the table, Brogan shot her apologetic looks every time his grandfather stretched a detail past the point of plausibility.
Dessert was served.
Old Mr. Clements cleared his throat. He glanced at his head butler and gave a subtle nod.
The butler bowed slightly and left the room, returning a moment later carrying a faded, dark blue velvet jewelry box on a silver tray. He placed it carefully on the table directly before the old man.
Y𝗈𝘂𝘳 ոеx𝘵 f𝗮𝘷𝗈𝗋іtе 𝗋𝘦a𝖽 𝘪𝘴 о𝘯
Up on the hill, Crawford adjusted the focus on his binoculars. The muscles in his jaw ticked. A sickening sense of dread pooled in his stomach.
Old Mr. Clements reached out and popped the box open.
Even from a distance, the light caught the contents brilliantly. It was a breathtaking antique brooch — a massive, deep-ocean sapphire at its center, surrounded by a halo of flawless diamonds, sparkling with a heavy, undeniable brilliance.
June’s breath caught. She didn’t need to be a jeweler to know the piece was worth tens of millions of dollars.
Old Mr. Clements looked at her, his eyes shining with absolute certainty.
“My dear,” the old man said, his voice thick with feeling. “This is the Clements family heirloom. It has been worn by every matriarch of this family for four generations. Today, I am giving it to you p>
Brogan practically launched himself out of his chair. “Grandpa! No — are you serious? That is far too much. June cannot accept that p>
June raised her hands immediately, shaking her head. “Mr. Clements, please. This is extraordinarily generous, but I absolutely cannot accept something so precious p>
The old man ignored them both entirely, driven by the particular stubbornness of a man who had learned not to waste time.
He picked up the brooch and leaned forward. Every alarm in June’s body fired at once — she instinctively shifted back in her chair, her hand rising slightly as if to stop him. But the desperate, almost frantic hope in his clouded eyes made her freeze. She forced her muscles to still. The cold platinum against her skin felt like a brand as he pinned the heavy brooch directly onto the fabric over her heart, his trembling hands moving with surprising precision.
Through the high-powered lenses, Crawford watched every second of it in agonizing detail.
He saw the old man pin the sapphire to her chest. He saw June go still. He saw Brogan standing there, protesting uselessly, failing to stop it.
In Crawford’s jealousy-poisoned mind, this was not an awkward social mishap. This was a formal, undeniable claiming ritual. That sapphire was a glittering brand, marking June as belonging to the Clements empire.
Inside the dining room, June stared down at the heavy brooch resting against her collarbone. She opened her mouth to insist he take it back.
Old Mr. Clements gasped.
His hand flew to his chest. His face turned an alarming shade of grey. He began to cough violently, his body shaking as he slumped forward against the table.
“Grandpa!” Brogan shouted, rushing to his side.