Chapter 3: The Facade of Glass
Dinner that evening was a grotesque pantomime of civility. The dining room was illuminated by a massive crystal chandelier, casting fragmented light over the silver cutlery and fine china. Victoria sat at the opposite end of the long mahogany table from Ethan, sipping her wine with the elegant grace of a queen.
Her parents sat between them, the incident from the afternoon entirely unspoken, buried under layers of polite conversation about summer homes and stock investments.
"The roast is exceptionally dry tonight," Victoria noted casually, slicing into her meat. She didn't look at Ethan. "We will need to replace the kitchen staff. Perhaps the upstairs maids as well. They are becoming entirely too familiar."
Ethan gripped his wine glass, his knuckles turning white. "Clara stays."
Victoria paused, her knife hovering over her plate. She looked up, her dark eyes locking onto his with a chilling emptiness. "Ethan, darling. You are letting sentimentality cloud your judgment. A disobedient servant is a cancer in a household. And as for Leo... my father and I were discussing a specialized boarding school in Switzerland. They are very adept at handling... difficult children."
"He is three years old, Victoria."
May you like
"He is a nuisance," she corrected smoothly. "And you are my husband. It is time you started acting like it, rather than playing nursemaid to a ghost's child."
Ethan didn't respond. He simply stared at the woman he had married out of desperate obligation, realizing with horrifying clarity that he was sitting across from a monster.
