Chapter 33 - The Poisoned Chalice
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That evening, Sterling Manor hosted an intimate dinner in the grand dining room under a massive crystal chandelier.
Despite the warm fire and exquisite silver service, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Joining us at the table was Lady Serena Dupont, a sleek, fifty-year-old French heiress with cold emerald eyes and a diamond-encrusted snake brooch pinned to her velvet dress.
Serena was one of the remaining senior directors of the International Apex Board.
"So, this is the little American girl who caused so much trouble in Phoenix," Serena murmured, slicing her steak with surgical precision. Her voice was like silk laced with glass. "You destroyed Julianna Vance's operations in forty-eight hours, Mrs. Sterling. Impressive... or foolish."
"Julianna threatened my daughter," I replied calmly, taking a sip of sparkling water. "Anyone who threatens my family meets the same fate."
Serena set her silver fork down with a delicate click, leaning forward across the linen tablecloth. "Julianna was reckless. But you, Lydia, are an outsider. You hold the primary key to the eight-hundred-million-dollar European Reserve, yet you have no understanding of how global power works."
"Lydia holds the rightful bloodline claim, Serena," Lord Alistair cut in sharply from the head of the table, his eyes narrowing. "Arthur’s share certificates pass directly to his heir."
"Bloodline claims are archaic, Alistair," Serena sneered smoothly, her eyes darting toward Clara sleeping peacefully in her portable bassinet near my chair. "A child cannot manage a global trust. And an emotional mother is easily broken."
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Ben stood up slowly from his seat, his presence looming over the table like a dark cloud. "If you ever look at my niece like that again, Lady Dupont, you won't make it to tomorrow's board meeting."
Serena merely laughed, a light, musical sound that sent a cold shiver straight down my spine.
