"Patience, Matteo," his father said, his eyes colder than flintstones as he gazed at his eldest son. "Have you taken leave of all of your manners? Take your seat next to Emline. She has specially dressed up for this dinner."
Matteo didn’t move an inch. "I ca as you asked. It’s ti for you to hold up your end of the bargain."
Charles Montgory proceeded to ignore Matteo’s heated words and his icy glare. Instead, he decided to dig into his own al with deliberate casualness, taking tiny sips of the soup entrée that the staff had so helpfully served.
"Eat," Charles said. "The food is going to get cold otherwise." He then gestured to the staff and instructed, "If he’s so insistent on sitting there, then bring the food to him."
As instructed, the maids went and did as told. Instead of forcing Matteo to sit next to Emline, they brought the food over to Matteo and set up the rest of the cutleries on his side of the table. Emline stared at them with her lips pressed together tightly. Then, wordlessly, she cast a glance at Catherine Laine.
"How uncouth," Catherine seemingly muttered, though her voice was definitely not soft enough to count as one. "The mother of your child dressed up all for you, only for you to treat her like thin air. Has your mother not taught you any manners? What a failure."
"My mother," Matteo said, his jaw ticking in anger, "taught everything she was able to before my father lost control of his belt and allowed his pants to drop for any whore on the street. You have no right to say anything about her."
"Matteo!" Charles yelled, slamming his fist against the table and causing the decor to jump a little due to the impact.
However, Matteo maintained his stony gaze.
"If you have nothing good to say, then don’t waste my ti." With that said, Matteo stood up from his seat. The legs of the chair scraped against the floor, causing an ear-grating sound as he straightened to his full height.
Adjusting the lapels of his clothes, he turned to leave. However, he was stopped when the sound of a chair tumbling sounded, followed by a pair of soft hands clinging onto his forearm.
"Matteo, wait!" Emline cried out, her voice weak as she tightly gripped his arm. "Can’t we talk properly? Please?"
"That option went out the window the mont you thought to sche against ," Matteo said.
With a sharp tug, he freed himself from Emline’s hold. She stumbled back — though he wasn’t sure why, since he didn’t use much force — and was caught by so of the household staff. If not for them, Emline would’ve fallen on the floor.
"There’s nothing to talk about between us," he finished, not caring about the way her face paled.
"But..." Emline sobbed, sniffling. "But I’m pregnant, Matteo. I’m pregnant with your child. Does that not an anything to you?"
Matteo’s eyebrows tightly knitted together before his gaze landed on her hands― one of her hands was conveniently tucked into the pocket of her dress. He looked at it pointedly and when she noticed his gaze, Emline adjusted her body so that her pocket would be out of his view.
He scoffed lightly before turning on his heel.
"Wait―!"
"Marry her and you’ll have your mother’s bangle."
While Emline’s pathetic cries did nothing to stop Matteo, Catherine’s words did. Matteo stopped in his tracks, slowly spinning on his heel to et her eyes. She stood tall, one hand on the table to support herself while she looked dead into Matteo’s eyes. Emline, on the other hand, had slowly made her way over to Catherine, standing next to her.
Together, Catherine and Emline looked like mother and daughter, even more so than Emline did next to her biological mother, Annalise.
"Marry Emline," Catherine repeated, "and you can have your mother’s bangle. That was what you wanted anyway, wasn’t it?"
Now she had Matteo’s interest. He fully turned around, though his expression was no more civil than before.
He said, "I’ve already signed the rights to X’el away to Aiden. I am owed that bangle. New terms cannot be added."
"No," Catherine said, "I never said that I would give you the bangle for transferring the shares to Aiden. Only that your bangle wouldn’t be thrown into the ocean."
"You―"
"Emline is carrying your child," Catherine said, cutting him off. "That’s the next generation of the Montgory family. In a sense, that baby is also a mory of your mother. Are you willing to cast that away so heartlessly, after you’ve emphasized ti and ti again how important she is to you?"
Matteo rely coldly laughed. "I am sure my mother will be fine with that. After all, she also didn’t wish for the woman she saved to worm into her husband’s bed but look where we are now."
"Catherine is still your stepmother and the rightful mistress of the Montgory household," Charles yelled, pointing at Matteo. "Have so respect."
"A mistress alright," Matteo said with a scoff.
He then stared dead into Emline’s eyes, though his words were directed to Catherine and his father.
"I will never marry Emline. That was never up for discussion, even before Alia ca into the picture."
Matteo took a deep breath. It pained him greatly to have to make the choice, but the living would always matter more than the dead.
He continued, "Do with the bangle what you will. My stance will not change. Don’t call ever again. I am cutting all ties with the Montgory family."
With that said, Matteo turned and stalked out of the house, his long strides quickly bringing him out of the front door. The sound of his car’s engine could be heard even from the dining room, signaling him revving and speeding away from the mansion.
Even after the screech of his tires had faded away, the three people still stood and stared at the door in wide-eyed silence.
"Did he just―" Catherine choked on her own words before hurriedly spinning to look at Charles. Her heels clacked as she jogged over, hissing in his ear. "Did he know that we don’t have―"
A loud slap echoed through the dining room, causing Emline to rear back in shock. Catherine’s face had sharply turned as she held onto her tender cheek, her lips parted in surprise.
"I’ve warned you before that you can’t always use the sa tricks against him," Charles lowly growled. "Now look at what you’ve done."
They had just lost a precious pawn.
With a scoff, Charles stood and left the dining room, having lost all of his appetite. It took Emline a few additional seconds to react. She rushed over to Catherine’s side, holding her carefully.
"Godmother..." she trailed off, bending forward so that she could examine Catherine’s face. There was a searing red handprint on the older woman’s cheek, glaringly bright against her porcelain pale skin.
Catherine stood up straight again, her hand slowly returning to her side. She forced a calm and serene smile, glancing down at Emline with motherly love.
"Don’t you worry, dear," Catherine said. "I promised you that you will beco Mrs. Matteo Montgory, and I plan to make well of this promise. If Matteo isn’t willing to bend, then we can always start with Alia instead."
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