Chapter 9
Mr. Blackwood tightened his hold on Maya, pressing her safely against his shoulder, ensuring she wouldn't have to look at the monsters across the room anymore. He turned his head slowly, his gaze sweeping over the polished marble floor until it locked dead onto Genevieve and Julian.
His face hardened with terrifying authority. The shift was absolute. He was no longer just a grandfather discovering his family; he was the Chairman, a man whose mere whisper could topple corporations and erase bloodlines.
Genevieve went pale, her rosy skin turning a sickly, translucent white. She backed away, her heels scraping awkwardly against the floor, looking around frantically for a security detail that was never going to help her.
Julian froze. His breathing became shallow, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. The realization of his own impending destruction was absolute. He tried to speak, to offer some kind of defense, but his throat had gone completely dry.
The entire ballroom stood silent, stunned, as the reckoning began.
Mr. Blackwood took one slow, deliberate step forward. His polished shoes echoed like a gavel striking wood.
"Who touched my granddaughter?" Mr. Blackwood asked.
His voice was quiet, completely devoid of shouting, but it was deadly. It carried the lethal, inescapable weight of a death sentence.
Genevieve burst into tears, her composure entirely shattered. "Mr. Blackwood, please! You don't understand! I didn't know who she was! I didn't know she was a Blackwood!"
"Does it matter?" Mr. Blackwood asked, taking another slow step forward. "Does the blood in her veins dictate whether she deserves to be struck by a coward?"
"Julian, say something!" Genevieve shrieked, grabbing at Julian's suit jacket. "Tell him what happened! Tell him she deserved it!"
Julian violently shoved Genevieve away, desperate to distance himself from the woman who had just sealed their fate. "I had nothing to do with this!" Julian shouted, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "Mr. Blackwood, I swear to God, I didn't touch the girl! It was all Genevieve! I told her not to do it!"
"Liar," Eleanor said, her voice ringing out crisp and clear. "You told me she deserved it. You told me I was street trash."
Mr. Blackwood stopped walking. He looked at Julian, his eyes narrowing into cold, obsidian slits.
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"You called my daughter street trash?" Mr. Blackwood asked, the dangerous calm in his voice escalating. "You married the heir to the Blackwood syndicate, you trapped her in this gilded cage, you allowed another woman to strike my blood, and you called her trash?"
Julian swallowed hard, taking a step backward. "Sir, please..."
