Chapter 12: Dinner
For a moment that stretched into an eternity, Isadora stood frozen at the entrance to the dining hall, a statue of uncertainty. The Walker family swirled around her, finding their assigned places with practiced ease. Silas was already seated at the head of the imposing table, with his second son's family clustering nearby. Elizabeth and April swept past her; Elizabeth's gaze slicing through her as if she were invisible, while April offered a fleeting, unreadable smile that felt more like a assessment than a greeting.
Then, a presence materialized behind her, a warmth that radiated through the fine fabric of her dress. Sebastian's voice was low, close to her ear. "Why are you not sitting? Come."
Before she could form a response, his hand settled on the small of her back. The contact was firm, proprietary, and sent a jolt straight to her core. He guided her, not to the far end of the table where she'd assumed she belonged, but directly to the seat of honor the chair immediately to Silas's right.
He pulled the heavy wooden chair out for her. The gesture was so unexpectedly chivalrous that a wave of stunned silence fell over that section of the table. Isadora felt the heat of a dozen eyes upon her. Her cheeks flushed a deep, tell-tale pink, but she sat, her movements stiff with self-consciousness. Sebastian took the seat next to hers, his own posture one of unshakeable calm.
Silas cleared his throat, the sound restoring a brittle order to the room. "Uhm. Since everyone is here well, apart from my eldest son Skylar and my son-in-law Benjamin, who are on a business trip together Isadora, dear, this is the Walker family. Your new family."
Isadora nodded, her throat tight. "It's nice to meet you all," she managed, her voice barely a whisper that was swallowed by the vast room.
No one acknowledged her. The meal began, the clinking of silverware against fine china the only conversation. Jennifer was engrossed in her phone under the table, a blatant act of disrespect. Jay, however, had abandoned his food. His gaze was fixed on Isadora, a lazy, appraising stare that made her skin crawl.
It was Jay who finally shattered the fragile quiet. "Miss Anderson."
Isadora's head lifted, her eyes wide.
He smiled, a slow, predatory expression. "I didn't notice earlier outside, but you're quite beautiful." He leaned forward slightly, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "Are you sure you want to marry Sebastian? Saba is so… boring. A beauty like you should be with someone who knows how to have fun."
"That's enough nonsense, Jay." Sebastian's voice was like a shard of ice, cutting through the air. He didn't raise his voice, but the command in it was absolute. "You're being disrespectful."
Jay opened his mouth to retort, but a deeper, more powerful voice intervened.
"Jay," Silas boomed. "Apologize to your sister-in-law. Now."
Ana, Jay's mother, immediately pouted. "Father, why should Jay apologize just for saying his sister-in-law is pretty? That's so unfair," she mumbled, though everyone heard.
Jennifer didn't look up from her phone. "I don't think she's pretty at all," she stated flatly, as if commenting on the weather.
That was the final straw.
SLAM.
Silas's open palm came down on the table with a force that made the crystal glasses tremble and ring. The entire room jolted into a dead, terrified silence.
"Unfair?" Silas's voice was dangerously quiet, his eyes burning with fury as he stared at Ana. "You think talking about somebody else's wife in that manner is not disrespectful?" He then turned his fiery gaze to Sebastian. "And you, Sebastian. No one outside this family knows you are married. That ends now. Find time. I want to host a reception here in this estate. We will invite every influential family in the city. I want everyone to know that you are married."
With that, he threw his napkin onto the table and stood. "You all enjoy your meal." He strode from the dining hall, his personal butler falling into step behind him. Elizabeth rose to follow him, but he raised a hand without looking back, a silent, imperious command for her to stay.
The silence he left behind was heavier than the noise. It was thick with shock, resentment, and fear.
After a few agonizing minutes, Sebastian stood. He looked down at Isadora, who had barely touched the exquisite food now grown cold on her plate. "Let's go."
She stood up so quickly her chair scraped loudly against the floor. Sebastian raised a questioning eyebrow at her haste.
"Cousin," Jay called out, a reckless smirk playing on his lips. "Please, let the lady stay. I'll bring her back to your villa later, I promise."
"That's enough, Jay!" It was his father, Soul, who finally spoke, his voice tight with a long-suppressed anger. He had been planning to ask his father for a significant business favor, and his children's insolence had just torched that opportunity.
"Brother, don't cross the line here," Jacob added, his tone reasonable. "Grandfather is right. You should apologize."
Their mother, Ana, jumped in. "Jacob, don't be too hard on your brother, okay? It was just a little joke."
Elizabeth had seen enough. Without a word, she stood and walked out, her back rigid. Sebastian placed a guiding hand on Isadora's lower back once more, steering her firmly away from the toxic tableau and out of the dining hall.
They caught up with Elizabeth at the grand front entrance. She turned, her face a mask of strained composure. "Son, you should visit me more often, okay?" She then lowered her voice. "And about what your grandfather said… about the reception… I know you're very busy. Anything like that can surely wait." Her eyes flickered toward Isadora, who was intently studying the intricate patterns on the marble floor, before returning to her son.
Sebastian hugged his mother briefly, a stiff, formal gesture. "Goodnight, Mother."
He led Isadora to the car, which had materialized on the driveway. He opened the passenger door for her, and she slid in, the events of the evening crashing down on her all at once.
As Sebastian drove the Rolls-Royce away from the castle-like estate and into the dark, winding roads, the silence in the car was different from before. It was charged, filled with the echoes of slammed tables and venomous words.
Isadora stared out at the passing night, her mind a whirlwind. A reception? she thought, a fresh wave of dread washing over her. He wants to host a reception and invite the entire city? To see me?
The ghost strategy was not just failing; it was being publicly executed by the one man whose will could not be defied. Her quiet, invisible existence was over before it had even truly begun.