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Chapter 27
Chapter 27:
“You’re late,” he said.
Skye didn’t look up. She turned a page. “Studying p>
“Did the birthday girl enjoy her cake?” she asked. Her voice wasn’t mocking. It was just… indifferent.
Liam walked over to the drink cabinet and poured himself a whiskey.
“It was too sweet,” he muttered.
He took a sip. He looked at Skye. He wanted to sit down. He wanted to tell her about how ridiculous the dress was. He wanted to laugh about it with her.
“Skye,” he started. “About tonight. Defending you against Arthur p>
Skye closed her journal. Snap.
She took off her glasses and stood up. She picked up her book.
“Goodnight, Liam,” she said.
She walked past him. She didn’t stop. She didn’t ask him how he was. She smelled of soap and rain.
“Skye?” he called out.
She paused at the door.
“Thank you for the defense,” she said without turning around. “But next time, save your energy. I can handle Arthur p>
She left.
Liam stood alone in the library, holding his whiskey. He realized, with a sinking feeling in his gut, that he preferred the cold silence of his wife to the warm noise of his mistress.
The envelope arrived at breakfast. It was thick, cream-colored, and bore the crest of Sea City University.
Skye opened it with a silver butter knife. “Accepted,” she read aloud, her voice calm.
Across the table, Beatrice lowered her teacup. “Accepted where p>
𝘕𝘰 in𝘁r𝗎𝗌і𝗏𝖾 a𝘥s 𝗼𝗇 𝖻𝗲𝗅𝗇о𝘷е𝘭s.со𝘮
“The Master’s program,” Skye said, buttering toast. “I start next week p>
Before Beatrice could respond, the dining room doors burst open.
Uncle Arthur stormed in. He was waving a tabloid newspaper like a weapon. He looked disheveled, sweaty, and panicked.
“She bribed them!” Arthur shouted, pointing a sausage-like finger at Skye. “Twenty million dollars! From the family trust! That’s why the accounts are moving p>
Beatrice stood up, her cane striking the floor. “What p>
She looked at Skye with lethal suspicion. “Is this true? Did you steal from the trust p>
Liam, who had been reading his tablet, looked up. “Arthur, calm down. What are you talking about p>
“The rumors!” Arthur yelled, throwing the paper onto the table. “Look! ‘Kensington Wife Embezzles Millions for University Seat!’ The stock is tanking p>
Skye picked up the paper. She glanced at the headline. It was fake news, obviously planted. But planted by whom? Or was Arthur just using it as a smokescreen?
“Uncle,” Skye said, taking a bite of toast, “do you even know how much twenty million is? Sea City U isn’t for sale. And neither is my integrity p>
