Chapter 4
The oppressive silence of the family dining room felt like a physical weight pressing down on Ethan’s shoulders. The mahogany table, polished to a mirror shine, reflected the flickering glow of silver candelabras. Beatrice sat at the head of the table, cutting into a rare steak with slow, deliberate precision. Ethan sat opposite her, forcing himself to swallow small bites of food that tasted like dust. He needed to keep up appearances, to prove to his mother that she had successfully broken his defiance.
“I am glad you finally applied some rationality to the situation, Ethan,” Beatrice said, dabbing her lips with a linen napkin. “Emotions are a liability in our position. A successful dynasty requires strategic thinking, not emotional attachments that cloud judgment.”
“Of course, Mother,” Ethan replied, keeping his voice steady and neutral. He kept his gaze fixed on his plate, hiding the fierce contempt burning behind his eyes. “I suppose I was just... shocked. It took time to process your perspective.”
“Shock is a natural reaction to profound truths,” Beatrice remarked, pouring herself another glass of dry white wine. “Clara is a sweet girl, in her own simple way, but she lacks the fortitude required to raise a Sterling heir. Once the child is born, we will place her in a comfortable wellness facility upstate. She will be well cared for, and you and I can raise the child in an environment befitting our status.”
Ethan’s grip on his fork tightened until his knuckles whitened, but he forced his hand to relax before Beatrice could notice. The sheer psychopathy of her plan chilled him to the bone. Wellness facility. It was a sanitized, polite euphemism for a padded cell. His mother intended to dispose of his wife as if she were a broken piece of furniture.
“And what about the legal complications?” Ethan asked, playing along with chilling calm. “Certificates, medical records... people will ask questions.”
“Let them ask,” Beatrice dismissed with a wave of her hand. “In our circles, discretion can be purchased quite easily. The attending physician is entirely devoted to our family interests. As far as the outside world is concerned, Clara suffered a tragic mental breakdown and required immediate, private seclusion.”
Ethan nodded slowly, committing every detail of his mother’s twisted rationale to memory. The physician. He would need to deal with that complicit doctor later, but right now, freeing Clara was the absolute priority. The grandfather clock in the corner chimed softly, marking the arrival of nine o’clock. The estate staff had already retired for the evening, leaving only the automated security systems and Beatrice’s watchful eye.
“I’m quite tired from the journey, Mother,” Ethan said, pushing his half-eaten plate away. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll retire to my old room to rest. We can finalize the details in the morning.”
May you like
Beatrice studied him for a long, piercing moment, searching for any sign of deception. Satisfied by his calm demeanor, she gave a gracious nod. “Go ahead, Ethan. Rest well. Tomorrow, we begin securing the future of our family.”
Ethan stood up, pushing his chair back with minimal noise. He walked out of the dining room, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The first phase of his plan was complete. Now, the real battle was about to begin.
