Chapter 237
[ 462 words ]
Chapter 237:
Before Caroline could process the words, Jarrod leaned down.
He pressed his mouth hard against the center of her forehead.
It wasn’t a sexual kiss. It was a heavy, dominant, territorial brand — a physical claim that sent a shockwave of heat straight down Caroline’s spine.
Her eyelashes fluttered. Her breath caught in her throat.
Jarrod pulled back. He dropped his hand from her neck, grabbed her wrist, and smoothly threaded her arm back through his elbow.
𝗠𝘰𝗿e 𝗇о𝘃е𝘭𝘴 oո 𝘨а𝗅𝗻𝘰𝘷𝖾𝗅𝗌.𝗰𝗼𝗺
The transition was so fast, so seamless, Caroline’s brain spun.
She was completely off-balance, her pulse racing, as Jarrod led her toward the grand marble staircase.
Their shoes clicked in unison against the stone steps. The servants standing in the foyer immediately dropped their heads, terrified to make eye contact with the Colonel and his new bride.
Jarrod glanced down. He saw the faint pink flush spreading across Caroline’s cheeks. A genuine, dangerous smirk touched the corner of his mouth.
He tightened his grip on her arm, marched across the foyer, and shoved the heavy carved doors of the dining room open.
The heavy double doors swung open.
The blinding light from the massive crystal chandelier poured over Caroline and Jarrod as they stepped into the grand dining room.
The room was cavernous. A twenty-foot mahogany table stretched across the center, set with flawless silver and bone china.
General Romero sat at the head of the table, his posture rigid, his hands resting on the silver head of his cane.
To his right sat Cornelia, wearing a dark green silk dress, looking every inch the untouchable matriarch. Next to her sat Harper, her face pale and tight with suppressed rage.
When Harper saw Jarrod walk in, holding Caroline’s arm with such fierce, protective possession, a toxic wave of jealousy burned in her eyes.
Jarrod ignored them all.
He walked directly to the first chair on the General’s left. He pulled it out, placed his hand on the small of Caroline’s back, and firmly pressed her down into the seat. Then he sat in the chair directly beside her.
It was a blatant, aggressive power play. In the strict hierarchy of the Romero family, the seat to the General’s left was the absolute seat of power, reserved for the primary heir.
Cornelia’s jaw tightened, but she quickly masked her fury by taking a slow sip of her red wine.
Harper possessed none of her mother’s discipline. She glared across the table, her eyes scanning Caroline like a laser, desperately searching for a flaw, a weakness, anything to attack.
Harper watched as Caroline turned her head slightly to nod respectfully at the General. The movement was graceful, the line of her neck pale and flawless under the bright light. There was nothing to criticize, and that fact alone fueled Harper’s burning resentment.
At that exact moment, Agnes, the young maid, walked into the dining room.
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