Chapter 5
I returned upstairs alone.
Coralie stood near the dessert table.
Most guests remained because nobody wanted to leave while the drama was still expensive.
I dismissed them.
Politely.
That disappointed half the room.
Good.
Within twenty minutes, only family and senior staff remained.
Coralie watched the elevator.
“Cassian?”
“Downstairs.”
She closed her eyes.
“You found him.”
“Finnian did.”
Her jaw tightened at the boy’s name.
That annoyed me.
“Why him?”
“What?”
“Why humiliate Finnian?”
She looked away.
“Because he wouldn’t stop talking.”
“He is six.”
“He saw something he didn’t understand.”
“He understood enough.”
Silence.
“You could have told Adela to take him home.”
“I panicked.”
“Then you picked up a microphone.”
Her face crumpled.
Yes.
That was the part no strategic explanation could excuse.
Panic does not automatically produce cruelty.
It reveals what cruelty is available to you.
Coralie believed Finnian’s stutter could make him unbelievable.
So she used it.
I asked:
“Did you kiss Cassian?”
“Yes.”
No more lies.
Good.
“How long?”
Her eyes filled.
“Three months.”
Three.
I kept my face still.
She continued.
“We were working together first.”
“I know.”
“Then it changed.”
“I know what kissing means.”
She almost laughed through tears.
Then stopped.
“Do you love him?”
Long silence.
“I don’t know.”
Honest.
Good.
“Do you love me?”
“Yes.”
I believed that too.
Human beings are capable of holding conflicting loyalties without feeling fraudulent until consequence arrives.
“What did you want from the eight people?”
She took a breath.
“Not a coup.”
“Cassian said choice.”
“He loves that word.”
“So do you.”
Coralie looked at me.
“I wanted enough people beside me that after we married, you couldn’t simply smile and postpone every conversation about my role.”
That hurt because I had done exactly that.
She asked about hosting authority.
Staffing.
Family charities.
Which private gatherings she could call herself.
I said after the wedding.
Again.
Later.
We’ll see.
I thought patience was maturity.
She heard dismissal.
Then she built pressure.
I leaned closer.
“You had a legitimate complaint.”
Hope flickered.
I ended it.
“And chose illegitimate methods.”
May you like
Her eyes closed.
That distinction would define everything after.
