Chapter 46: 46
The room fell into a suffocating silence, the kind that presses against your skin and wraps around your throat. I flinched as Gift’s girlfriend screamed, her voice piercing through the still air. My gaze dropped to the gun in my trembling hands, and then lifted to her, clutching her bloodied face. Her white gown was streaked with crimson, a grotesque contrast.
How did I get here?
The memory struck without warning Tommy abandoning me in Nix’s apartment, the three maids entering the room in a perfect line, each carrying a sleek black box.
"Master asked us to prepare you for dinner," one announced. Before I could respond, another was already tugging at my jacket.
"Hey, hold on." I jerked back, uncomfortable with the idea of undressing before strangers.
"Madam, please, let us do our work."
"Then do it in a proper place..not the sitting room," I snapped.
Without a word, they guided me down the hall, moving like a single, disciplined unit. With a reluctant sigh, I followed.
In the room, they stripped me down to my underwear. The mirror caught my eye, and for a fleeting second I was back in my mafia training days where the body was stripped of identity, discipline was genderless, and the rules were merciless.
They worked quickly. A black flared gown, snug at the wrists with billowing sleeves, slipped over me. A fine net hose sheathed my legs, and a white corset was tightened around my waist until my breath came shallow.
One maid tended to my hair wetting, blow-drying, straightening while another wiped away my makeup, layering powder and color until a stranger stared back at me from the glass.
White slipper heels were buckled onto my feet, a butterfly clip nestled into my hair, and a diamond necklace clasped at my throat. Then, as if rehearsed, the maids stepped aside.
Footsteps.
I rose instinctively, and before I could turn, a pair of hands settled gently on my shoulders. My gaze lifted to the mirror where Nix stood behind me, his reflection smiling.
"My masterpiece," he whispered.
I returned his smile, noting how the sharp lines of his black tuxedo amplified his effortless charm.
"Let’s go."
He extended his arm. I slipped mine through his, and together, we made our way toward the door.
"Do you know what we face on a battlefield?" Nix asked as we approached the elevator.
"Enemies?" I replied, raising a brow.
"Exactly. This dining table is a battlefield. Aside from your allies, everyone else is an enemy," he said just as the elevator doors slid shut, his words hanging in the quiet hum of descent. When the doors opened again,we stepped into a bustling living room.
The dining hall unfolded before me, a vision of elegance and silent hostility. A long, polished mahogany table stretched across the room, its surface gleaming beneath the glow of a grand chandelier. High-backed chairs upholstered in dark leather stood in perfect formation, awaiting their occupants like soldiers in rank.
The table itself was a canvas of temptation crystal platters bearing tender roasts, silver trays piled with vibrant vegetables, and porcelain bowls releasing wisps of fragrant steam from their soups. Baskets of warm bread and delicate pastries completed the display, a feast fit for royalty. Yet despite the abundance, the room pulsed with unease. The ticking of an ornate clock on the wall seemed louder than it should, marking the silence like a warning drum.
Nix pulled out a chair for me, his gesture deliberate, almost protective, before taking his own seat at my side. Slowly, the family began to file in, each dressed in black, their presence heavy with unspoken tension. Tom settled close to me, inclining his head respectfully toward Nix. Across the table, the second young master took his place, a striking woman in white at his side. Between them sat a little girl, her bright smile the only light in the room as she kept stealing glances at Nix and at me.
Nix’s grandfather took his seat at the head of the table. The silence was palpable, tension crackling in the air, until a familiar female voice shattered it.
"Hello, people. The princess is back."
Luna’s voice cut through the silence like a blade, her smile radiant though her eyes betrayed a sharper edge. She was draped head to toe in black, a jacket tossed carelessly over her shoulder, revealing a strapless lace corset beneath. Her hair was sleekly tied back, a small purse swinging at her side with every deliberate step. Behind her, Xavier followed in a tailored black tuxedo. Clearly, black was tonight’s theme.
"My princess," Nix’s grandfather greeted warmly. Luna wasted no time, gliding to his side and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"I missed you," she purred, her smile unwavering.
The second young master scoffed under his breath. "Hypocrite."
Luna only rolled her eyes, unfazed, before leaning down to brush another kiss across Nix’s cheek. She then slipped gracefully into her seat beside Xavier, ignoring the tension brewing around her.
Despite the room now being full, the silence pressed in heavier, thick with unspoken rivalries. This was no dinner..it was a battlefield, just as Nix had warned.
"Master," the steward who had earlier escorted Nix and me into the study stepped forward, bowing respectfully to Nix’s grandfather before addressing the room. "Everyone will be served according to their latest health reports. Young master and Madam are exempt, as they missed the check-up."
"It’s not as if we were expecting him," Gift, the second young master, muttered darkly.
"Gift," Nix’s grandfather warned, his tone sharp. But he only looked away, sullen.
"The dinner is to conclude in thirty minutes," the steward continued evenly, "after which all members will proceed to the practice room."
Practice room? My brows knitted. Isn’t dinner supposed to end with sleep, not training?
"Don’t look so surprised," Tommy whispered at my side as the maids began serving dishes. "This is just the beginning."
I glanced down at my plate an assortment of vegetables: tomatoes, spinach, cauliflower, and other greens I couldn’t even name.
"Madam," the butler explained, bowing slightly, "the chef prepared this specially for you. It aids reproduction.."
A low chuckle from Tom cut him off.
"Apologies, butler, but you’ve chosen the wrong dish to serve to her. She doesn’t like eating vegetables," he said, his tone almost mocking.
"It’s fine, I’ll eat something else," I murmured, dismissing it with a wave. But before I could push the plate away, Nix quietly replaced it with his own already cut neatly into small pieces.
Silence reigned once more. The only sound was the clinking of cutlery. Yet, Nix sat calmly, as if immune to the tension, carving apples into tiny heart shapes with his knife.
"Xavier," Nix’s grandfather finally spoke, breaking the quiet again. "I hear you now own the largest gallery in the States?"
"Who said I own it? I feel more like an employee, seeing how closely your grandson monitors me..." Xavier trailed off, realizing too many eyes were on him. He straightened with a practiced smile. "Yes, Grandfather. You heard correctly."
The old man gave a single nod before turning his attention elsewhere.
"Luna, how is your cosmetics brand doing?"
At once, Luna’s face brightened. "Thriving, thanks to my big brother’s backing." She winked playfully, drawing a soft chuckle from the old man. His gaze shifted to Nix, who remained entirely unmoved, absorbed in his plate.
"Tomline..."
"Grandfather, I went back to school," Tom interrupted before the old man could continue. "So don’t expect anything else from me." He downed his drink with an easy smirk.
The old man’s chuckle carried a trace of disapproval. "The youngest and the most stubborn. Finally returning to school after failing as a musician."
Tom rolled his eyes. "I’ve already heard enough from brother Nix. Spare me the lecture. I would’ve been successful if you supported me, but.."
His words cut off with a yelp as an apple struck the side of his head. Laughter rippled quietly around the table.
"You have a habit of straying off track," Nix said calmly, still focused on carving apples into perfect little shapes. The brief levity softened the heavy air.
"Carmela," the old man said, turning to me. "I heard you attend the same university as Tomline."
"Yes, Grandfather," I replied with a polite nod.
"Gift."
The shift was palpable. The cheer faded as every gaze followed the old man’s words to the other side of the table.
Gift set down his glass with deliberate care. "Well, Grandfather, I’d be doing much better if your precious grandson hadn’t sued my company over land he has no use for."
"Says who?" Nix finally spoke up,not even glancing up from his knife. "You own nothing there only trees."
Gift leaned forward, his voice sharp. "Five million per month and sixty million yearly for maintenance. Your workers not only harmed my animals, they broke my fence as well, killed two of my rabbits, injured four more. And you think I shouldn’t take legal action for unauthorized use of my property?"
Nix’s knife paused. Slowly, he lifted his eyes, locking his gaze with Gift’s. The room froze in the weight of their silent clash.
When did Nix Dean become such a petty man?
"Cicila," Nix called softly.
"Yes, uncle?" The little girl answered at once, padding toward him. Nix lifted her onto his lap and slipped her a slice of the carved apple.
"But Nix, he’s.." the woman beside Gift began.
"I’d prefer if you kept silent," Luna cut in coldly. "Your place is in the staff quarters."
"Luna!"
"Don’t call my name," she snapped. "Sometimes I wonder if you have any sense at all, even with two children to raise. It’s barely eight months since your wife died, and here you are..parading around with the nanny." she narrowed her eyes at the both of them
"Luna, mind your words," the old man warned, his tone heavy.
I bit into my apple, savoring the sweetness. This was better than any cinema, sharp, unfiltered, and playing out right before me in 3D.
"Grandfather.." Gift’s girlfriend began, but the old man silenced her with a raised hand.
"I’ve lost my appetite," he said, pushing his chair back. "Let’s move to the practice room and end this evening quickly."
The atmosphere shifted. Chairs scraped as he stood, his authority heavy enough to stifle further protest.
"The first half is over," Tom murmured, rising as well, his lips curling.
"Time for the second round."