Elizbeth stood in front of the small mirror in the guest bathroom. She carefully pressed a small, flesh-colored band-aid over the cut on her cheek.
She took a deep breath, smoothing down the skirt of her modest beige dress. She opened the door and walked down the stairs to the first-floor dining room.
The long oak dining table was already full. Elizbeth immediately noticed two figures who had absolutely no right to be there. Her uncle, Dwight Spencer, and her cousin, Elroy, had arrived uninvited at the crack of dawn, using the excuse of 'checking on the new bride' to force their way into the Wilkinson estate and rub shoulders with wealth.
As Elizbeth approached her seat, Dwight took a slow sip of his coffee, offering her nothing but a cold, dismissive glare that reminded her of his threats to sell her grandfather's clinic. Elroy rolled his eyes dramatically. He picked up his silver fork and tapped it aggressively against his porcelain plate, the sharp clink cutting through the silence.
Elroy tilted his chin up, looking Elizbeth up and down. "Did you buy that dress at a thrift store?" he sneered loudly. "It reeks of cheap fabric. You're making the whole room smell poor, cousin."
A few of the maids standing near the wall exchanged secret smirks.
Elizbeth froze behind her chair. Her face burned. She gripped the back of the wooden chair, unsure if she should sit down or run back upstairs.
Sitting across from them, Carlton's ambitious younger brother, Jamel Wilkinson, smiled smoothly. "Now, Elroy, be kind," Jamel said, his voice dripping with fake sympathy as he observed the Spencer family drama with amusement. "Not everyone grew up with our resources. We must be patient with her... background."
Jacob, sitting at the head of the table, slammed his coffee cup down. His face darkened, ready to erupt.
Before he could speak, the heavy double doors of the dining room swung open.
Carlton strode in. He wore a perfectly tailored navy suit, his presence instantly sucking the air out of the room.
The chatter died immediately. Everyone at the table instinctively sat up straighter.
Carlton walked straight to Elizbeth. He grabbed the back of her chair and pulled it out for her, his movements sharp and commanding.
He slowly turned his head and locked his cold, dead eyes onto Elroy. The oppressive weight of his stare made the younger man shrink back in his seat.
"The mistress of the Wilkinson family," Carlton said, his voice a low, icy blade, "does not need to be evaluated by an outsider."
Elroy's face drained of all color. He snapped his mouth shut and stared down at his lap, terrified.
Dwight's face turned a mottled red, but under the crushing weight of Carlton's presence, he didn't dare say a word.
Elizbeth turned her head, staring at Carlton in shock. A sudden, unexpected warmth bloomed in the center of her chest.
Carlton didn't even look at her. He sat down in his chair and snapped his linen napkin open, acting as if destroying Elroy was just a casual reflex.
Jacob tapped his silver cane against the floor, drawing everyone's attention.
"Let us be clear," Jacob announced, his voice echoing in the large room. "Elizbeth is Carlton's legal and only wife. She carries the Wilkinson name."
Dwight forced a tight, plastic smile onto his face. He raised his glass of orange juice. "Welcome to the family, dear."
Jamel's eyes darkened for a fraction of a second before he masked it with a polite smile, raising his coffee cup to Elizbeth.
Breakfast began. The clinking of silver knives and forks against china was the only sound in the tense room.
Elizbeth stared down at the fried egg on her plate. Her stomach churned violently. She couldn't eat a single bite.
Suddenly, Carlton reached across the table. He grabbed a glass of warm milk and slid it firmly until it bumped against Elizbeth's plate.
His movements were stiff, and he kept his eyes glued to his own food, but the silent command to drink it was undeniable.
Elizbeth blinked in surprise. She looked at his sharp jawline. "Thank you," she whispered.
Carlton didn't reply. He picked up his black coffee and took a sip, his brow furrowing slightly.
Across the table, Elroy watched the exchange. His knuckles turned white as he gripped his fork, looking like he wanted to stab it through his plate.
When breakfast ended, Jacob wiped his mouth with his napkin. He looked at Elizbeth.
"Elizbeth," Jacob said, standing up. "Come with me to the living room."
