Chapter 2 - The Bruised Matriarch
Arthur looked up from his meal, his realistic facial micro-expressions showing immediate confusion. He glanced at the maid, then shifted his slow eye movement to the small silver tray she was holding.
Resting perfectly in the center of the polished metal was a heavy, antique gold locket. It was deeply dented, and the delicate chain had been violently snapped in half.
Arthur’s natural breathing stopped entirely.
That locket belonged to his grandmother, Eleanor. It was a priceless family heirloom containing the only surviving photograph of his late grandfather. He had explicitly forbidden anyone in the estate from ever taking it out of her private room.
Arthur’s gaze snapped upward, finally registering the elderly woman leaning on the maid's arm.
It was Eleanor. But she didn't look like the proud matriarch of the family. Her dark navy dress was torn at the shoulder. Her face was stained with tears, and a dark, ugly purple bruise was blooming across her right cheekbone.
Arthur stood up quickly from the table. The heavy gold chair scraped violently against the marble floor, echoing through the immediate area. His handsome face was tight with intense, aggressive concern.
"What happened?" Arthur asked, his voice low but completely commanding, demanding an immediate answer.
Victoria, sitting across the table, took a slow, unbothered sip of her champagne. "She probably fell down the stairs again, Arthur. The old bat is going blind. I told you we should put her in a home."
May you like
Arthur completely ignored his fiancée. He closed the distance between himself and his grandmother, his broad shoulders shielding her from the stares of the surrounding guests.
👉 Victoria thought she had perfectly orchestrated an accident, but the terrified grandmother was about to break her silence.
