Chapter 447
Chapter 447:
“Speed is a weapon,” Silas lectured, wagging a finger at me. “We declare ownership before the ink dries. We show the world that the Kensington loss is the Thorne gain. It humiliates them. It destroys their stock confidence p>
Alistair leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. “He wants to piss off Beatrice Kensington. It’s his favorite hobby p>
I realized then that this wasn’t just a celebration. It was a declaration of war.
“When?” I asked.
“Next Saturday,” Silas decided.
“That’s in five days,” I said.
“Plenty of time,” Silas waved a hand. He looked at the butler. “Get the seamstresses. She needs a gown. Something regal. Red? No, too aggressive. Gold? Too tacky. Black. Make her look like the night sky p>
Servants immediately swarmed into the room with tape measures and fabric swatches. I stood, allowing them to measure me, feeling like a doll being dressed for battle.
Alistair watched me from the fireplace. His eyes were dark with possessiveness. He raised a glass of scotch to his lips, never breaking eye contact.
“Welcome to the family, my love,” he mouthed.
I felt the weight of the Thorne name settling on my shoulders.
It was heavy, dangerous, and incredibly powerful.
Just then, a servant hurried into the room and whispered something to Alistair.
Alistair’s face went cold. He pulled out his phone, checking a news alert.
“What is it?” Silas demanded.
“The Kensingtons,” Alistair said, his voice dropping to a growl. “They are trying to play the game p>
The morning sun streamed into the penthouse kitchen, illuminating the marble countertops and the shirtless man standing in front of the stove.
Alistair Thorne was making an omelet. It was a domestic scene that felt completely at odds with the man who commanded a criminal empire, but he handled the spatula with the same precision he used with a knife.
I walked in wearing one of his oversized dress shirts. It hung to my mid-thigh, smelling of cedar and him.
“Coffee?” he asked without turning around.
𝖡𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗌𝖾 𝖻𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗀𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝖻𝖾.𝖼𝗈𝗆
“Intravenously, please,” I mumbled, leaning against the counter.
Before he could pour it, the elevator doors slid open. Secretary Lee rushed in. He looked pale, his usually immaculate hair slightly windblown. He was holding a tablet like it was a bomb.
“Mr. Thorne,” Lee said, breathless. “The Kensingtons just released a press statement p>
Alistair wiped his hand on a towel and took the tablet.
I moved to his side to look at the screen.
It was a digital invitation, splashed across every major social media platform and news outlet.
KENSINGTON GLOBAL & QUINN ENTERPRISES GALA
Celebrating the Merger and the Engagement of Liam Kensington and Sienna Quinn.
Date: Saturday, November 12th.
I stared at the date. “That’s next Saturday,” I said. “That’s the same night as our engagement party p>
Alistair laughed. It was a cold, dangerous sound that made the hair on my arms stand up.
“They did this on purpose,” I said. “They want to force the city to choose sides. If people go to their party, they snub the Thornes. If they come to ours, they snub the Kensingtons p>
“Let them try,” Alistair said, tossing the tablet onto the counter. “Silas will enjoy crushing them. No one chooses a sinking ship over a battleship p>
“It’s a distraction,” I analyzed instantly. “They know they can’t beat us on prestige. They’re trying to split the media coverage so our announcement doesn’t dominate the news cycle p>