Chapter 8 - Chapter 8

The Family Dinner

Bella pov 

"It's time. We have to go," Sam said, his tone clipped as he walked back into the room, his eyes sweeping over everything with a critical gaze. Before I could even muster a response, he moved toward the scattered cards on the table. Without a word, he began to rearrange them, his movements precise, almost ritualistic.

"Like I said," Sam added coldly, "don't talk unless you're asked to, and watch everything you do."

I stood up, preparing to follow him, my chest tightening with nervous energy. 

"Don't be scared," Sam said, glancing at me. His voice softened slightly, an unexpected warmth that contrasted sharply with his earlier demeanor. "Even if you are, don't show it on your face."

We made our way down the hall toward the dining room, Sam walking ahead of me like a silent, protective shadow. As we entered the room, my eyes widened. The dining table was massive, carved from rich mahogany, glistening under the chandeliers. It was set with the finest china and silverware I had ever seen, each place prepared with such meticulousness that it felt intimidating.

Family members began to arrive, each one greeted by Sam with a nod, though he never sat down. I noticed how they looked at me with side glances, cold stares, whispers exchanged behind fake smiles. The weight of their scrutiny pressed heavily on my shoulders, but I held my head high, repeating Sam's words in my mind.

When the Chairman finally entered, everyone stood. He was an older man, yet the power he exuded was undeniable. His eyes twinkled warmly in Sam's direction as he walked to the head of the table. However, the others had a visible shift in their expressions: some wore envy, others bitterness.

As the Chairman took his seat, the others followed suit, though Sam remained standing by my side until I was seated. The table fell into a tense silence, broken only by the clinking of silverware and glasses being filled.

Kelvin, the man who had been drinking wine earlier, raised his glass and spoke first, attempting to sound casual. "Father, the construction project was approved by the mayor," he said, his voice brimming with triumph.

"That's wonderful news," the Chairman replied, though his tone felt distracted, as if he had something else on his mind. "But that's not why we're here tonight."

The Chairman turned his piercing gaze toward me, studying me intently. "So, what's your name?" he asked.

My heart raced. I stood up instinctively, but the table erupted in laughter before I could speak.

"You don't need to stand, dear," the Chairman said, smiling kindly, though the laughter of the others stung. "Sit."

"Bella Marks," I managed to say as I sat back down, my cheeks flushing.

"That's a nice name," the Chairman said, nodding. "Your family, what work do they do?"

I hesitated, memories of loss flooding back. "They're both dead," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

The room fell silent for a moment. Ruth, a sharp-eyed woman sitting on the Chairman's left, leaned forward, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Sorry for your loss," she said.

"I didn't ask for your opinion," the Chairman snapped, not even glancing at Ruth. "And where is your husband?"

Ruth bristled at his tone but kept her expression neutral. "He's working with the shareholders on the 260-building project, Father," she replied, her voice steady despite the tension.

"I told you to stop interfering in the business. Sam will handle it."

"Father, I am your eldest daughter," Ruth protested, her voice rising in indignation. "Why are you treating me like this?"

The Chairman's eyes darkened. "I've given you more than enough. You are a woman who leaves the business to my sons."

Ruth opened her mouth to protest, but Kelvin cut her off. "Ruth, let it go. I will have it under control."

"Shut up," the Chairman barked at Kelvin. "I said Sam would handle it!"

The tension at the table was palpable, everyone seemingly holding their breath. Just then, a man in a black suit entered the room, whispering something into the Chairman's ear. The Chairman's expression shifted from stern to furious as he turned his glare toward Maya, the woman who had been so friendly to me earlier.

"Maya," the Chairman growled. "What have you done?"

Maya froze, the color draining from her face. "Father, I was only trying to help"

"Help?" the Chairman's voice grew louder, more dangerous. "How dare you sell the Asher Motor shares without my consent!"

"Father, please," Peter, the Chairman's third son, tried to interject, but his voice faltered under the Chairman's withering gaze.

"I told all of you!" The Chairman slammed his fist on the table, rattling the silverware. "I am the one who makes decisions for this family! You " he pointed at Maya, who visibly flinched, " you don't act without consulting me first!"

"Father, calm down," Peter tried again, standing up.

"Shut up! All of you!" The Chairman's voice echoed off the walls. His face was flushed with rage, his breathing growing heavier. He stood abruptly, knocking over his chair.

Suddenly, he staggered backward, clutching his chest. 

"Father!" Ruth screamed, her eyes wide with panic.

The Chairman gasped, his face twisting in pain, and collapsed to the floor. Chaos erupted around the table. Ruth was the first to rush toward him, her hands shaking as she tried to check his pulse. 

"Someone call an ambulance!" Maya shouted, her earlier defiance replaced with sheer terror. 

Kelvin leapt from his chair, fumbling with his phone as he dialed emergency services, his usual calm demeanor shattered. Sam remained frozen for a moment, his eyes fixed on his grandfather's body before he sprang into action, kneeling beside him. 

"Grandfather, hold on," Sam said, his voice strained as he tried to remain calm.

I stood rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do. The sound of Ruth sobbing and Peter barking orders to the staff created a cacophony that filled the grand dining room, once so majestic, now filled with chaos.

A maid rushed into the room, breathless, her face pale. "The ambulance is on its way," she announced, but her voice seemed drowned out by the panic.

Everyone hovered over the Chairman's lifeless form, desperately trying to figure out what to do next. My eyes darted around the room, landing on Sam, whose face had gone ashen, the composure he'd maintained all evening crumbling.

In the distance, the faint sound of sirens grew louder as the paramedics rushed into the dining room. The Chairman was carefully lifted onto a stretcher, his breathing shallow. I stood frozen, my heart pounding, as the chaos of the room swirled around me.

The family members followed as the paramedics pushed the Chairman toward the waiting ambulance. Sam turned to me, his expression tight and controlled. 

"I need you to stay here," he said, his voice clipped, though his eyes held a flicker of something softer, perhaps worry, or guilt.

Before I could respond, Sam was already out the door, rushing after the ambulance. He hopped into his car and sped off, following the flashing lights into the distance.

The house fell eerily silent in their absence, the chaos of moments before replaced with an unsettling calm. I felt the weight of it pressing down on me.

"You don't need to panic," a voice said behind me, startling me out of my thoughts. I turned to see the chief maid, Mrs. Bridget, a stern but composed older woman with sharp eyes. "Everything will be fine."

"Okay," I replied softly, unsure whether I believed it.

"I'm Mrs. Bridget, the chief maid," the woman said, her tone formal but not unkind. She approached me and continued, "And what's your name, dear?"

"Bella," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mrs. Bridget nodded, her gaze studying me for a moment. Then, she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "Everything that happens here tonight, everything you've seen, none of it should be spoken of outside these walls. Do you understand?"

I swallowed hard, my mind racing with all the strange things I'd already witnessed. I nodded. "Yes, I understand."

"Good," Mrs. Bridget said with a slight smile. "In this family, discretion is everything."

With that, the woman turned and left, her footsteps fading into the distance. I stood alone in the grand dining room, my thoughts swirling. I couldn't shake the feeling that the tension at the table had only been the surface of something much deeper, something far more dangerous.

I recalled the hushed warnings from earlier in the night. The family's business is not to be shared. Everything stays in the house.

The maid's words echoed in my head as I wandered toward one of the large windows, watching as the ambulance lights disappeared into the night. What had I gotten myself into?

Just then, the door creaked open, and I quickly turned, my heart jumping in my chest. It was the same maid from earlier. Her face was pale, and she seemed nervous, glancing around before stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

"You shouldn't trust anyone here," the maid whispere

d, her voice trembling slightly. "Not even the ones who seem kind."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my pulse quickening.