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Chapter 616
Chapter 616:
Beatrice let out a low hum of deep satisfaction. “Exactly,” she agreed. “The Lancaster family requires genuine intellect. Not cheap window dressing p>
Belle sat at the far end of the table, utterly destroyed. Her face was a mask of pure, burning humiliation. Tears of absolute shame welled in her eyes, threatening to spill, but she bit her lip until she tasted blood rather than let them fall in front of these people. She stared at Isolde. The hatred in her eyes was toxic—the look of a cornered animal searching desperately for a throat to tear out.
Grayson sat in silence, the vein at his temple throbbing steadily. He understood exactly what his grandmother was doing: using Isolde to publicly execute Belle, and making certain he watched every moment of it as a warning.
The dinner continued in graveyard silence. Belle’s grand entrance into the Lancaster inner circle had just become her public crucifixion.
The footmen silently cleared the main course plates and set down delicate crystal bowls of crème brûlée.
Belle stared at the caramelized sugar surface of her dessert. Her stomach was churning violently. She had been stripped of her professional dignity, humiliated in front of the staff, and abandoned by Grayson. But she refused to be discarded like trash.
She gripped the edge of the heavy mahogany table. Her knuckles turned white. She pushed her chair back—the wooden legs scraping loudly against the floor, a harsh, ugly sound that shattered the quiet elegance of the room.
Belle stood up, her chest heaving, her eyes red-rimmed and manic. “Madam Lancaster,” she said, her voice trembling but loud. “You have been misinformed about my character p>
Beatrice did not look up. She picked up her silver spoon and cracked the hard sugar shell of her dessert. The sharp snap echoed through the room like a whip.
𝘚𝘩𝘢𝗋𝗲 y𝗈𝘶r 𝗳a𝗏𝗈ri𝘵e𝘴 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺
Belle swallowed hard. Her desperation overrode her fear. She could not win on technical merits—she had to pivot to the personal. She had to use the one weapon she believed she still had.
“My relationship with Grayson is entirely appropriate,” Belle pressed on, her voice rising in pitch. “I am simply trying to help this family. I am trying to help Kaiden p>
Grayson’s head snapped up. His eyes went wide with warning, shooting Belle a look of pure, lethal silence—silently screaming at her to stop.
Belle ignored him. She turned her manic gaze directly onto Isolde. “Kaiden is suffering,” she cried, playing the role of the tragic savior. “He lacks maternal warmth in his own home. I stepped in because he needed me. Is that not right, Isolde p>
She took a step forward, pointing a trembling finger down the table. “Tell your grandmother the truth!” she demanded, her voice ringing through the room. “Tell her that we only have a working relationship! Tell her that you fully support my involvement in your son’s life p>