Chapter 518
[ 500 words ]
Chapter 518:
He looked up, saw the two of them standing at the end of the hall, and stopped dead in his tracks. A look of profound, undisguised shock flashed across his usually impassive face.
He recovered in an instant, his expression smoothing back into one of professional neutrality. He walked toward them, his steps quick and silent on the marble floor.
He stopped in front of Caroline first, giving a slight, respectful bow of his head. “Mrs. Romero,” he said, his voice a low, formal greeting.
Then he turned to the young man. His voice became sharp, edged with disapproval. “Peregrine. What are you doing with the young mistress?”
𝖨𝗻t𝘦𝗻𝘀𝘦 𝗋𝘰𝗆𝖺ոсe 𝘰ո 𝗴а𝗅𝗻𝗼𝘃еls.co𝗆
The name, Peregrine, registered in Caroline’s mind. Jarrod’s half-brother. Cornelia’s son.
Peregrine, who had been twisting the cap off a bottle of water, froze. His hand stopped mid-motion. He looked from Alistair’s stern face to Caroline’s calm one, and a look of utter disbelief spread across his features.
Then he laughed. A short, harsh, incredulous bark of a laugh.
“Mrs. Romero?” he repeated, his voice dripping with scorn. He pointed a thumb at Caroline. “Alistair, have you gone insane? You’re calling this lost, stupid maid ‘Mrs. Romero’?”
Alistair’s face darkened. The professional mask slipped, revealing the hardened face of a man used to dealing with insubordination. “You will watch your tone, Peregrine,” he snapped, his voice cracking like a whip. “You are addressing your brother’s wife.”
He turned slightly, his words a formal proclamation intended to obliterate any lingering doubt. “Allow me to introduce you. This is Caroline Thompson Romero. The legal wife of Colonel Jarrod Romero, and a guest in this house under the personal protection and full recognition of General Augustus Romero himself.”
The words detonated in the silent corridor.
The plastic water bottle slipped from Peregrine’s numb fingers. It hit the marble floor with a loud crack, spilling ice-cold water across his expensive, limited-edition sneakers. He didn’t even notice.
His head whipped around, his eyes locking on Caroline. He stared, searching her face for any sign of a lie, any flicker of deceit or triumph. He found nothing. Only a quiet, unnerving calm. A deep, almost pitying stillness.
The truth crashed down on him with the force of a physical blow. The woman he had insulted, the woman he had dismissed as a common servant, the woman who had stood up to him without a shred of fear, was his sister-in-law.
The initial shock was immediately consumed by a wave of pure, unadulterated fury. A dark, ugly flush crept up his neck, his face turning a mottled, angry red.
“That cold-blooded bastard actually got married?” he snarled, the words torn from a place of deep, visceral hatred. “And to what? Some nameless, penniless nobody from the gutter?”
He took a step toward her, his eyes blazing with contempt. “I bet you thought you hit the jackpot, didn’t you? Tell me, what kind of filthy tricks did you have to pull to climb into a Romero’s bed? How much of your soul did you sell to get your hands on our name?”
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