Chapter 530
Chapter 530:
Grayson’s gaze moved to her, sharp and warning. “Mother. If you disagree with this decision, I will cut every credit card and suspend your family allowance immediately p>
Victoria’s mouth closed. She sat very still. Money and privilege were the pillars her life rested on, and she would not sacrifice them — not for Seraphina, not for anyone.
Belle read the room, stepped forward, and reached for Grayson’s arm with a carefully arranged smile. “Gray, don’t exhaust yourself over this. Seraphina is young and foolish. I’ll help you with Effie — calm her down, look after her p>
Grayson pulled his arm away sharply.
“Don’t bother,” he said, his voice cool and distant. “Effie is shy around strangers. I don’t need your help p>
Belle’s hand remained suspended in the air for a moment, her smile collapsing. She stood exposed in front of the room, every eye finding her.
𝘙𝗲𝘢𝖽 w𝗶𝘵𝘩𝗼𝗎𝗍 i𝗻𝘵𝗲r𝗿𝗎𝘱𝗍𝗂𝗼𝗇s o𝗇
Grayson finished his whiskey in a single swallow and set the glass down.
“Dr. Sterling said Isolde needs complete silence to recover,” he said, addressing the room with the final, unhurried authority of someone who expects to be obeyed. “If I hear a single sound from up here — conversation, footsteps, anything — every one of you will pack your things and leave this estate tonight p>
He turned without another glance at the room full of silent, furious women and walked back up the stairs, his back straight and entirely indifferent.
Belle watched him go, her nails pressing into her palms. She could feel it — a shift, unmistakable and frightening. Grayson had never defended Isolde. Not once. Now he was placing himself between Isolde and his own family, and it terrified her in a way she didn’t know how to contain.
A small figure toddled in from the side room and wrapped his arms around her legs. Kaiden looked up at her, his young voice carrying the particular cruelty of a child who has been taught what to say. “Mommy, why does that nobody’s mom get the big bed? She doesn’t belong there p>
Belle clapped her hand over his mouth immediately and glanced up the staircase, her eyes dark.
“Hush,” she whispered, her voice low and vicious. “What is ours will be ours again. No one is taking it from us p>
Upstairs, Grayson leaned his back against the closed master bedroom door and did not go in. He let his eyes fall shut and exhaled slowly, the full weight of the evening pressing down on him.
None of the authority he had exercised downstairs felt like a victory. He felt only exhausted — standing at the door, thinking of the poisonous, hollow people below him. This house. This legacy. All of it rotten at the core.
The hours between three and four in the morning were the darkest. The house had finally settled. The wind outside had died, leaving a heavy, oppressive silence pressed against the windows.
Grayson closed his laptop and rubbed his temples, working at the headache that had been building behind his eyes for six hours.
He stood and walked to the small sofa bed where Effie was sleeping.
Message from Noa: Lovely readers, hope you have a wonderful morning, God loves you and Noa wishes you all the best. (ɔO‿=)ɔ ♥