Chapter 238

[ 495 words ]

Chapter 238:

She carried a massive, heavy silver tray. On the tray sat five heavy cast-iron skillets of baked eggs. The dish was blistering hot, covered in a thick, bubbling layer of melted Gruyère cheese and scalding oil.

Agnes’s path required her to walk directly behind Harper’s chair to serve Caroline first.

Harper’s eyes flashed with pure, venomous malice.

She slid down slightly in her chair. Under the cover of the long, heavy tablecloth, she extended her right leg straight out, blocking the narrow walkway behind her.

It was a lethal calculation. If Agnes tripped, the heavy silver tray would flip forward. The boiling, sticky cheese and scalding oil would splash directly into Caroline’s face, melting her skin and destroying her forever.

Agnes kept her eyes glued to the tray, carefully balancing the heavy bowls. She took a step forward, completely blind to the trap.

Her toe was one inch away from striking Harper’s shin.

Cornelia, sitting next to Harper, caught the micro-movement of her daughter’s shoulder.

Cornelia’s stomach plummeted. She knew Jarrod. If that food hit Caroline, Jarrod would not yell. He would pull his gun and shoot Harper in the kneecap right there in the dining room.

Y𝗼𝗎r 𝗻𝖾𝗑𝘵 𝖿𝘢𝗏o𝗿𝗶𝘵𝖾 r𝗲𝗮𝗱 і𝗌 𝗼𝘯 𝘨а𝗹ոov𝗲𝗹s.𝗰𝗈𝘮

Cornelia didn’t hesitate.

She swung her leg under the table. The sharp, pointed heel of her designer stiletto slammed brutally into Harper’s ankle bone.

Harper let out a sharp, muffled gasp of agony. Her leg jerked back violently under her chair.

Agnes walked past, completely oblivious. She stopped beside Caroline and carefully placed the steaming skillet of baked eggs on the silver charger plate.

Caroline looked down at the boiling oil. Her operative instincts, honed by years of surviving ambushes, registered the sudden, sharp spike of malice in the room.

She slowly lifted her eyes and looked across the table.

Harper was biting her bottom lip so hard it was turning white. Her eyes were watering, and her shoulders were trembling slightly from the pain in her ankle.

Cornelia maintained a flawless, aristocratic smile. She leaned slightly toward her daughter.

“Put your stupid brain away,” Cornelia hissed, her voice so low only Harper could hear the lethal threat. “If you want to die, do not drag me down with you.”

Harper stiffened in absolute terror.

Jarrod, sitting next to Caroline, felt the shift in the air. His survival radar was just as sharp. He looked across the table, his black eyes locking onto Cornelia and Harper. His gaze was a silent, terrifying promise of violence.

Jarrod reached out. He grabbed the edge of Caroline’s skillet and pulled it smoothly across the table until it sat in front of him.

He picked up the heavy silver spoon, scooped up a small portion of the eggs, and ate it himself, his eyes never leaving Cornelia’s face. After a tense moment, confirming the food was safe, he pushed the skillet back in front of Caroline, giving her a sharp, commanding nod to eat.

The silence in the dining room was heavy and suffocating. The only sound was the faint clink of silver spoons against cast-iron skillets.

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