Chapter 36 – Old Wounds, New Faces
The next morning, the Blackwood mansion was unusually noisy.
Ethan wasn't used to noise , just the quiet hum of routine, the crisp click of polished shoes on marble floors.
But today, laughter ,sharp, judgmental laughter ,echoed through the hall.
His mother was back.
"Ethan!" came the smooth, commanding voice of Eleanor Blackwood, a woman whose jewelry probably cost more than most cars.
She swept into the room, fur-lined coat trailing behind her, eyes assessing everything , and everyone.
Her gaze landed on Clara.
"So this is the wife I've heard so much about," she said coolly. "The… contract bride."
Clara froze. Ethan clenched his jaw. "Mother."
"Oh, don't look so grim. I'm only making conversation." Eleanor smiled, the kind that cut sharper than knives. "Though I must say, Ethan, your taste has changed. She's… ordinary."
Damien, who'd somehow gotten himself invited to breakfast, choked on his coffee. "Ouch."
Clara forced a polite smile. "Ordinary can be comforting, Mrs. Blackwood."
Eleanor raised a brow. "We'll see about that."
The air turned icy.
Ethan's hand brushed Clara's under the table , a silent reassurance.
For once, he didn't care what his mother thought.