I wasn't his wife. But I was furious watching another woman try to claim him.
Despite Kairos's declaration that Isabella needed to leave, she somehow ended up staying for dinner. Victoria insisted—something about "family matters" that required discussion over a meal. And Kairos, bound by the strange social contracts of wealthy families, had reluctantly agreed.
Which was how Elara found herself sitting across from Isabella at the dining room table, watching the other woman stake her claim with surgical precision.
The seating arrangement itself was a power play. Isabella had positioned herself next to Kairos, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. Victoria claimed the head of the table like a queen. And Elara was relegated to the other side, forced to watch the performance unfold.
Leo had been fed earlier and was mercifully occupied with a movie in his room, spared from witnessing whatever fresh hell this dinner would become.
