Chapter 30 #4
I moved around the kitchen with a grace that made my own heart tighten. I caught Alex staring at me and offered her a slow, devastating smirk—the kind that said I knew exactly what she was thinking.
Richard cleared his throat again, clearly trying to find some reason to justify why his dignified sister was so obsessed with the girl from the bar. "So, um... How old are you, exactly?"
The sizzle of the pan grew louder. My hand paused for a fraction of a second. I could feel the temperature in the kitchen drop.
"Old enough to recognise a boundary when she sees one, Richard," I said, my voice smooth and dangerous. I turned around, the spatula held like a sceptre. "And old enough to be the woman who currently has more authority in this house than you do.”
"I’m just asking! Just being friendly!" he protested, blustering. "Just small talk, CC."
"Be friendly with your lunch," I snapped, sliding a plate of perfectly prepared food onto the island in front of Alex, then a much smaller, less impressive portion onto the table for him. "And keep your questions to yourself."
I moved back to Alex’s side, my hip brushing against hers as I leaned against the counter. She was eating, and I was finally relaxing.
Richard let out a short, scoffing laugh, looking at me with a patronising tilt of his chin. "Honestly, CC, don't you think you're being a bit over the top with the young girl? I mean, I get it, she’s pretty, but the 'authority' talk? The hovering? It’s a bit theatrical, even for you."
I froze. I slowly set my fork down on the edge of my plate with a soft, melodic clink that sounded like a funeral bell.
"Theatrical?" I repeated. My voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper.
"Yeah," Richard carried on, oblivious to the landmine he had stepped upon. "It’s just a bit much. You’re acting like she’s the Queen of Sheba instead of some—"
"Richard."
I said his name with a finality that finally reached his lizard brain. He stopped.
I turned my head slowly to look at him. The look in my eyes was cold, calculated loathing. I reached out and placed my hand over Alex’s on the counter, my thumb drawing a slow, possessive circle over her knuckles.
"You are a guest in this house by the skin of your teeth," I said, my voice vibrating with a subsonic threat.
"And yet, you sit at my table, eating the food I prepared, while insulting the woman I have chosen to share my life with.
You speak of 'authority' as if it’s a performance.
Let me be very clear: there is nothing theatrical about how quickly I will put you back on the street if you finish that sentence. "
I leaned forward, my grip on Alex’s hand tightening. "Alex is not 'some girl.' She is the only reason you aren't currently dragging your luggage through the mud. Now, apologise to her. Properly. Or put your fork down and leave."
Richard pulled a face, his frustration finally bubbling over. “CC, come fucking on.”
The air vanished from the room.
I didn't raise my voice. I didn't need to.
Instead, I dismantled him with surgical, lethal efficiency, methodically peeling away his posturing until there was nothing left but a jobless, middle-aged man begging for space in a house that was not his.
I laid out his debts, his irrelevance, and his total dependence on my goodwill in crisp, terrible detail.
By the time I finished, I had made it painfully clear that he was nothing more than a ghost haunting my hallways—while Alex was the immovable, protected centre of my world.
Finally, Richard stammered it out, his face a mottled shade of humiliated red. "I'm sorry, Alex. I... I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry for being disrespectful."
He looked like he wanted to dissolve into the floor. I did not look at him. My entire aura shifted back to the devotion I felt for the woman at my side. I turned to her, my hand still anchoring hers to the marble.
"Darling?" I asked, my voice dripping with silk and genuine concern. "Do you accept that? Or would you like a better one than that? Because I can certainly make him try again until he gets the tone right.”
I watched her closely. She looked between the shivering mess that was my brother and me, her eyes reflecting a chaotic, dizzying realisation.
She was only just beginning to comprehend the depth of the power I had placed in her hands.
She was the girl from the bar, yes, but to me, she was the only person who had ever mattered.
I would see the rest of my family crumble to ash if it meant keeping the look of wonder and belonging in her eyes.
"It’s okay," she managed, her voice soft and slightly unsteady. "I accept it, Carrie. It's fine."
I didn't release her hand immediately. I needed to be certain. Her grace in this moment was as intoxicating as her spirit. "Are you sure, baby?" I pressed, my gaze searching the depths of hers to ensure she wasn't merely being polite.
When she gave a small, decisive nod, I finally granted my brother the acknowledgment of my focus. I turned back to him, my expression neutral, my authority absolute.
"You heard her," I said, my voice steady and final. "You're forgiven. For now."