Chapter 279
Chapter 279:
Beatrice turned a shade of purple I hadn’t thought possible for a human being. She spluttered, “Fiancée? A Thorne marrying a reject? A divorced, barren woman p>
She started shouting slurs—ugly, outdated words—attacking my character, my career, my worth.
Shoppers outside had stopped. Faces pressed against the glass windows, phones recording the spectacle of the Kensington Matriarch losing her mind.
Liam stepped forward. Something in him snapped. He looked at his grandmother—really looked at her—and saw the ugliness I had lived with for three years.
He turned to the store security. “Remove this woman p>
The guards hesitated, looking between Liam and Beatrice. “Sir… it’s your grandmother p>
“I said remove her!” Liam roared. His voice cracked. “Or you’re all fired! Get her out of my sight p>
Two guards approached Beatrice nervously and took her by the elbows.
Beatrice was shocked into silence for a second. Then she started screaming. “Liam! I am the Matriarch! You ungrateful boy! I made you p>
“You are no longer welcome in my life,” Liam said. His voice was cold, dead. “Take her away p>
Lydia tried to intervene. “Liam, you can’t be serious p>
Liam glared at her. One look was enough to silence her. She shrank back.
Security gently but firmly escorted a screaming Beatrice and a pale Lydia out the door. The heavy glass closed behind them, muffling the screams. The store fell quiet again.
Liam turned to me. He was breathing hard, his chest heaving. He looked broken. He looked at me with expectation, waiting for me to praise him, to thank him for finally defending me.
I looked at him. I felt a wave of sadness, but it wasn’t love. It was pity.
“You should have done that three years ago, Liam,” I said softly.
The sentence hit him like a bullet. He physically recoiled.
“I did it now,” he whispered. “Doesn’t that count p>
“It counts for your conscience,” I said. “Not for us p>
I turned to Alistair. “Get me out of here p>
Alistair nodded. He didn’t gloat. He didn’t say a word to Liam. He just guided me toward the door, his body shielding mine from the cameras outside. As we passed Liam, Alistair’s shoulder brushed against his—solid, unyielding—knocking Liam slightly off balance.
Liam stood alone in the center of the Diamond Room, surrounded by millions of dollars of jewels that couldn’t buy him the one thing he wanted.
𝗡о 𝗶𝗻𝘵𝘳𝗎𝘴i𝗏𝗲 а𝗱ѕ 𝗈𝗻 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝘯𝗼𝗏𝖾𝘭ѕ.с𝗈𝗺
Outside, the flashbulbs were blinding. Alistair’s men cleared a path to a waiting Maybach.
We got in. The door closed, shutting out the noise.
I leaned back against the leather seat and closed my eyes. “Happy birthday to me p>
Alistair took my hand. His thumb rubbed over my knuckles. “The night isn’t over p>
He signaled the driver. “To the marina p>
I opened my eyes and looked at him. “No more surprises, Alistair. I’m tired p>
Alistair smiled. It was a rare, genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “This one you’ll like. I promise p>
The car sped away, leaving the chaos of Fifth Avenue behind.
The Maybach pulled up to a private dock at the edge of the harbor. The city lights reflected on the black water, creating a shimmering, restless mirror.
At the end of the docks sat a massive superyacht. The name painted on the stern in silver letters was The Obsidian, sleek, dark, and menacingly beautiful—just like its owner. Alistair led me out of the car. The sea breeze whipped my hair across my face, cooling the heat of the day.
We walked up the gangway. The deck was deserted. There was no crew in sight, though I knew they were hidden away, invisible ghosts keeping the ship running.
On the upper deck, a simple table was set for two. White roses. Candles flickering in glass hurricane lamps. A bottle of vintage wine breathing in a decanter.