IMOGEN'S POV
Of course, I had to agree even if I did not believe a word that he was saying.
I sat there in silence, focusing on the road while clearing the tear stains on my cheek as Elijah drove to the Rossi family house.
We arrived just in time. The servants were hurrying to place trays on the table when we arrived in the dining room.
I realized the act was on again when Elijah crossed his arm with mine. It sickened me, and I immediately let his hand go.
I was willing to pretend. But even the lies I could tell had limits.
He didn't even look at me when I reacted that harshly. I expected – No, I wanted him to be at least angry. It would tell me he cared a little.
But Elijah didn't even spare me a glance. His gaze was fixated on his father, who was reading a newspaper.
I followed his eyes and noticed my father-in-law wore a frown, which contrasted his mood yesterday. That told me the paper had to belong to Elijah's stepbrother.
The man looked up almost immediately, and I watched that frown disappear. Fine lines formed on his forehead, and his jaw twitched endlessly.
He was angry.
"Don't just stand over there," he spoke. His eyes were fixed on his son. "Come to the table."
Like his father, Elijah's jaw also twitched. He reached for my hand and held on to it. His grip was tighter this time as if silently warning me that it would be wise if I didn't try to free myself from his grip the second time.
I let him have this one. I did agree to come and fake it all in front of his family.
"Join me," Elijah's mother invited when we passed by where she sat.
Without a second thought, I yanked his hands free from mine and joined my mother-in-law.
"How are you, mother?" I greeted her as I sat next to her.
"Wonderful," she chuckled. Her soft laugh and demeanor had no effect on me anymore. It felt almost like she was acting out a script. Perfect with no flaw in sight. "You don't look so bad yourself."
Of course, I looked good. Why wouldn't I look good? She made sure I looked damn good. I was tempted to say it. Maybe it was petty. But my mother-in-law was the last person I expected to give me a response as cruel as that.
I believed I knew her and that she cared about me like she would her daughter. But I was dead wrong. I was just fodder.
Even now, with the conversation that we were having, her eyes covertly focused on her son as he sat opposite his father.
The rose-colored glasses were shattered. I now knew the kind of woman that she was—an enabler.
Swallowing the venom in my tongue, I continued. "I don't think Elijah had a good eye for clothes. Doesn't it look beautiful?"
"It does." She retorted, no switch present. It was as if she had been lying for so long that it just came naturally to her.
The servants returned shortly after and began to serve. I had no idea what was on my plate. But the second Elijah's father was served, and he picked up his fork, we all followed suit.
It was tradition—a tradition I had picked during my time with the Rossi family before my marriage.
"Bless this food." The man said a short prayer and took the first bite.
We then proceeded to start eating, too. I didn't question what was in front of me. It was edible. I knew to stop asking questions. Because the first time I visited. We were given blue cheese mashed together with potatoes. I didn't even know what to call it. The family chef must have been experimenting. But I had commented that the food was terrible because of the mold from the blue cheese. My father-in-law had been a good sport and taught me about blue cheese then. However, my mother did not like how I had questioned the Rossi family's eating habits.
"They are rich," she had told me. "Any good they serve will be liquid and edible gold. Even if it doesn't look like it, eat it. Your tongue and stomach will get used to it."
And she had been right. I never questioned whatever was brought. Wet, slimy, dry or rare. I would eat it all.
"Imogen, Dear," Mr. Rossi regarded me, dropping his fork in his plate and reaching for his paper. "Tell me this isn't true."
I stared at the paper he pointed in my direction. Seeing the words 'The bride that never was' did not fail to reignite my fight or flight.
I clutched to my dress, anger regurgitating to the surface. What hurt even more was my mother-in-law reaching out to hold my hand from under the table.
Silent talk for "Protect my son". What hurt even more was what followed.
"Of course not," I replied, betraying my heart. "I don't know why that defamatory piece was published. But I intend to sue if something isn't done about it."
"I already apologized." A familiar voice chuckled.
I whipped my head in the direction it came from, and to my surprise, Elijah's stepbrother was there.
Elijah's mother wasted no time in confronting him.
"What is wrong with you? " She shrieked as her palm slammed into his face in rage. The sound of her palm smacking into his cheek reverberated in the room. "What haven't we done for you? I took you in as my own child, and you... You pay me back by trying to destroy your brother's name?! Tell me why you did it!" she demanded, pulling at his collar.
Isaac's expression remained impassive as he faced her wrath. But when she had accused him of trying to ruin Elijah's reputation, he scoffed dismissively as if refusing to accept the blame for that. "I cannot take credit for attempting to destroy Elijah's name. He is doing that perfectly fine without my interference. His recklessness is what gave me the opportunity to publish the piece." Isaac remarked, his tone cutting. "I merely exposed the truth."
Elijah's mother recoiled as if struck, her eyes flashing with fury and disgust. She let his collar go and faced her husband. "Your bastard has grown wings. Didn't I tell you this will happen?"
"Lana," the man sighed, taking a sip of his water. "Sit the fuck down. No use crying over spilled milk."
"God!" She scoffed. "This is why he is like this. You enable him. He can act us like a brat all he wants, and you refuse to punish him."
I took a swing at the glass of water in front of me. Although water was the last thing I needed, it would do. I had no idea that the Rossi was a dysfunctional family. They had it all, so it didn't make sense to me that they would be this much of a mess. Seeing it firsthand made me wonder how much I had missed before I married into this family.
"Isaac," Mr. Rossi continued, ignoring his wife's ramblings. "Have a seat."
I exchanged a fleeting glance with him. Tension crackled between us. He looked even better than before. Realizing the thoughts dominating my thoughts were wrong and inappropriate for the situation I found myself in, I turned away from him and focused on food.
Everyone ate in silence. It was the gospel truth. All that filled the air was the small clanks of utensils meeting the plates and the heavy breathing many shared as they tried to hide their malice.
"Why did you publish the piece?" Mr Rossi asked, breaking the silence again.
"Spite," Isaac replied.
Mr Rossi's response to that was shocking. "Spite is good. Suppose you are ever going to survive as a businessman. You must learn how to hold a grudge and use it when necessary. But spite becomes utterly useless when it cannot be put to good use. Your spite is useless now since Elijah was able to turn your weapons back on you. Now you have to retract your statement and apologize. The credibility of your paper will also fall because you used your spite like a fool. Your paper was a surprise, and I believe you could make it into your biggest asset. You disappoint me."
Was he encouraging Elijah's stepbrother to continue to attack him?
I expected Isaac's reaction to be just like the rest. Having grown up in this sort of family, I would not even be surprised.
But Isaac nodded. "Business encounter losses too. Perhaps this could have been avoided. But I did learn something valuable. Thank you, father."
I was in shock. Was he not mad? Did he take that as a learning curve? It was new, jarring and shocking.
My nerves frayed when he turned to face me and smiled. "I wish you and my brother a happy marriage."
He was a madman. After trying to burn us to the ground merely an hour ago, he was wishing us well? This family was a mess.
To add injury to salt. Elijah responded to his brother. "Thank you. It will be a looong and happy marriage."
I choked on the water I was drinking. Long? Happy? Why would Elijah ever dare to speak those words after what he had put me through? After the promise of divorce?
"Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom." I managed to choke out as I excused myself from the table and made my way to the bathroom.