Chapter 39 A Family Torn Apart

• The long mahogany table gleamed beneath the weight of crystal glasses and fine china, its surface an elegant battleground waiting for its first strike. Lucy Whitaker sat at the head of the table, her silver hair pinned back in a sleek twist, every inch the dignified matriarch. Her smile was tight, forced, as she glanced between Ethan and Alexander seated across from one another , two wolves, teeth bared behind strained civility.
• Clara sat beside Ethan, her fingers nervously tracing the edge of her wine glass. The air crackled with tension, every word dipped in unspoken accusations.
• Lucy cleared her throat. I believed that it was time for us to have a seat together. as a household.