Chapter 3 - The Family Table
Bellarosa glittered beneath the evening sky.
Its stone façade rose between two historic buildings, illuminated by rows of golden lamps. Uniformed attendants opened car doors beneath a covered entrance while guests crossed a red carpet into the marble lobby.
Victor stepped from the sedan first.
He did not offer Emily his hand.
Lorraine’s limousine arrived behind them.
She emerged in emerald silk, followed by Victor’s younger brother, Adrian, and Adrian’s wife, Celeste.
Lorraine kissed Victor’s cheek.
Then she looked at Emily.
Her gaze paused on Emily’s hair.
“You wore it down.”
Emily touched the dark strands falling across her bruised jaw.
“I thought it suited the dress.”
“It makes you look tired.”
Victor gave Emily a warning glance.
Lorraine moved on without waiting for a response.
Inside the lobby, Margaret stood near a floral arrangement of white roses.
She wore dark gray and held a small handbag.
Emily almost failed to recognize the expression on her mother’s face.
Margaret looked calm.
Not falsely cheerful. Not nervous. Not eager to please Victor’s family.
Calm.
She embraced Emily gently.
Her lips brushed Emily’s ear.
“Do not drink the wine.”
Emily stiffened.
Margaret stepped away before Victor noticed.
So the message had come from her.
Or from someone working with her.
“Margaret,” Lorraine said, examining the room. “This is unexpectedly ambitious.”
“I wanted the evening to be memorable.”
“I’m sure it will be.”
The restaurant manager led them through double doors into the grand banquet hall.
Emily entered and immediately sensed that something was wrong.
There were too many guests.
Margaret had described the dinner as a family gathering, yet nearly fifty people occupied the room.
Some were familiar.
Judge Samuel Cole had been Thomas Bennett’s university roommate. Attorney Evelyn Price had handled Margaret’s property affairs. Dr. Elias Monroe, a forensic pathologist, sat near the windows. Two former employees of Ashford Holdings stood beside the bar.
Victor recognized them too.
His hand pressed lightly against Emily’s back.
To anyone watching, the gesture appeared affectionate.
Emily felt the threat in his fingers.
“What has your mother done?” he whispered.
“I don’t know.”
“Do not lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
Lorraine approached Margaret.
“Who are these people?”
“Friends. Colleagues. Individuals connected to the announcement.”
Adrian surveyed the room.
“Is this about the Bennett Foundation?”
Emily looked at her mother.
The Bennett Foundation had been Thomas’s dream. He planned to create scholarships for children of service workers, but the project collapsed after his death because the funding disappeared.
Margaret smiled faintly.
“In a way.”
The manager seated them at the central table.
Margaret sat opposite Lorraine. Emily was placed between Victor and her mother. Adrian and Celeste sat near the end, while Ruth occupied the final chair.
A waiter poured water.
Another approached with wine.
Victor lifted Emily’s glass and held it toward the waiter.
“She’ll have the Bordeaux.”
Emily placed her fingers over the rim.
“No, thank you.”
Victor looked at her.
“You always drink Bordeaux.”
“I have a headache.”
Lorraine gave a small laugh.
“Emily always has something.”
Margaret’s hand tightened beneath the table.
Victor leaned toward his wife.
“Drink.”
Emily met his eyes.
For six years, obedience had been safer than defiance.
Tonight, she pushed the glass away.
“No.”
The word was barely audible.
But Victor heard it.
So did Lorraine.
A waiter carrying bread paused beside the table.
Victor smiled, though the muscles near his jaw shifted.
“My wife is tired.”
Margaret turned to the waiter.
“Please remove the wineglass.”
The waiter did so immediately.
Lorraine watched Margaret.
Something passed silently between the two women.
Recognition.
Not of friendship.
Of war.
Dinner began.
The first course arrived beneath silver domes. Conversation spread uneasily through the hall. At surrounding tables, guests pretended not to watch the central family.
Victor barely touched his food.
Lorraine asked Margaret questions about the cost of the restaurant, the guest list, and the purpose of the evening.
Margaret answered none of them directly.
Emily noticed a man near the rear wall.
He wore a waiter’s uniform but did not carry a tray.
For one second, she thought she recognized him.
Seven years earlier, on the morning after her father vanished, the same man had stood outside the police station.
He had been younger then, with longer hair.
But the scar beside his left eye was unchanged.
Emily stared.
The man turned away and disappeared through a service door.
“Who are you looking at?” Victor asked.
“No one.”
His hand closed around her wrist beneath the table.
“Remember what happens when you keep secrets.”
Emily looked toward her mother.
Margaret was watching Victor’s hand.
The second course arrived.
Soup.
The waiter placed a steaming bowl before Emily.
Victor released her wrist.
Margaret’s phone vibrated inside her handbag.
She glanced down.
The screen displayed a message from an unknown number.
THE MAN WITH THE SCAR HAS THE SECOND KEY.
Margaret looked toward the service door.
May you like
Across the table, Lorraine watched her reaction.
Then Lorraine smiled.
