Chapter 240
[ 518 words ]
Chapter 240:
Finch hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then he stepped forward. A maid scrambled to place a chair at the far end of the long table. Finch sat down, his posture still rigid, but his eyes gleaming with a complex mixture of gratitude and awe.
Caroline knew when to press an advantage.
She reached for the silver bread basket in the center of the table. She carefully selected a freshly baked, golden-brown croissant, its surface glistening with a delicate egg wash, and placed it gently onto the General’s gold-rimmed bread plate.
“Thank you for your guidance last night, General,” Caroline said, offering him a small, genuine smile.
The General looked down at the pastry, then back at Caroline. A rare, genuine spark of approval lit up his old eyes. She was ruthless, intelligent, and completely unbothered by wealth.
Jarrod sat silently, watching the entire exchange.
His chest swelled with a massive, overwhelming surge of pride. His wife was a natural predator. She was dismantling his family’s hierarchy without raising her voice.
But alongside the pride came a dark, violent spike of territorial panic.
He saw the way the General looked at her. He saw the respect in Finch’s eyes. He didn’t want anyone else to see her brilliance. He wanted to lock her away where only he could look at her.
Jarrod dropped his left hand under the heavy tablecloth.
He reached over and grabbed Caroline’s hand resting on her thigh.
𝖠𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗀𝖺𝗅𝗇𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗌.𝖼𝗈𝗆
Caroline jumped slightly. Before she could pull away, Jarrod forced his thick, calloused fingers between hers, locking their hands together in a brutal, crushing grip.
The physical pressure was intense, almost painful. It was a silent, violent claim of ownership.
Caroline turned her head sharply, glaring at him.
Jarrod stared back. His black eyes were burning with absolute obsession. He didn’t speak, but his lips moved, forming three silent words.
You are mine.
The agonizingly tense breakfast finally ended.
General Romero stood up, leaning heavily on his cane, and exited the dining room first. Jarrod immediately stood, pulling Caroline up with him, and escorted her out without a backward glance.
Harper remained frozen in her chair.
She stared at the empty doorway where Caroline had just walked out. The General had called that cheap nurse “Madam.” He had smiled at her.
The hatred inside Harper’s chest boiled over, turning into a blinding, toxic acid.
She shoved her chair back so violently it crashed to the floor. She ignored the startled gasps of the maids and sprinted out of the dining room, running up the grand staircase to the second floor. She slammed the heavy door of her bedroom shut and threw the deadbolt.
A high-pitched, hysterical scream ripped from her throat.
Harper grabbed a heavy crystal perfume bottle from her vanity and hurled it at the wall. The glass shattered into a hundred pieces. The expensive liquid soaked into the silk wallpaper, filling the room with a sickeningly sweet, suffocating stench.
She grabbed a jar of face cream and smashed it against the antique mirror. She tore the velvet pillows off her bed, ripping the fabric until feathers exploded into the air.
She was hyperventilating, preparing to smash a heavy brass lamp, when the door handle clicked.
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