CHAPTER 51: CHAPTER-51. (THE SUPPORTIVE MATRIARCH).

Fortunately, the dust settled quickly, and Vivian, who seemed to stir some drama out of it stepped back when Dave shot one of his dagger looks.

Walter, as always, did not mind at all and kept himself busy with the business news, reading through his phone. Lily felt a little sleepy, so Grace took her to her room.

I never felt so thankful to Lily than now. Now, Grace was gone, I could finally concentrate on having some delicious food.

Without giving second thoughts, I took a bite of roasted broccoli when Grandpa saw this as a great opportunity, "I have a big announcement for all."

My jaw stopped as I chewed on the veggie when my eyeballs played ping pong between Grandpa Albert and Nicole, to whom he directed.

"From now onwards, my eldest grandson, Nicole Morris, will take over the Big Star Agency."

I almost choked on that broccoli, making me cough out that damn veggie.

I was still coughing when a glass of water came into my view. Not waiting for another second, I grabbed the glass and chugged the water down my throat.

While I drank all the water, someone kept rubbing my back, and when I calmed down, I looked in that person’s direction to thank him, but froze in my tracks when my gaze fell on him.

Dave. It was him. He helped me. It seemed more like a question than a statement.

The glass was still half-tilted in my hand when my eyes locked with his.

For a heartbeat, everything else...the clinking of forks, Vivian’s too-bright laugh, Grandpa’s booming voice announcing succession plans...faded into static.

It was just his hand still warm against my back, steady, grounding. His eyes, soft in a way I hadn’t seen in weeks, maybe months.

"Better?" he asked, voice low enough that only I could hear.

I nodded, too quickly, my throat still raw, but it wasn’t the broccoli choking me anymore.

It was the fact that he was looking at me like that...like I wasn’t just the awkward wife fumbling through introductions, but someone who mattered.

"Thank you," I whispered, setting the empty glass down with fingers that shook more than I wanted to admit.

His mouth curved...just slightly, just enough to qualify as a smile.

And God help me, it wasn’t the practiced, polite smile he wore for everyone else. This one was smaller. Real. For me.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe again, but in an entirely different way.

Our little bubble shattered when Nicole cleared his throat, basking in the attention Grandpa had handed him. "I’ll do my best to honor the family name, Grandpa," he declared, voice smooth, rehearsed.

It felt as if we both came out of a trance as we blinked, still measuring whether it was reality or not. Dave then went back to his neutral face mask.

While I kept taking sips from the glass as I kept glancing at Nicole, who sat there with a polite smile on his face, which did not seem genuine.

The pictures of that blonde man kept passing in front of my eyes while I tried to find similarities between him and the man in those photos.

The shade of the blonde was too similar to ignore. Even the physique seemed to match, but none of it would matter until I saw that hickey on his collarbone.

If I found it on him, there was no doubt that he was the one who got physical with Caroline. Also, he might be the blackmailer who was blackmailing Caroline with those photos.

The reason for me to think that he could be the culprit as in every photo, the angles in which the photos were taken were deliberate.

The person who took photos of them clearly wanted to hide that man’s face while revealing Caroline’s one.

My nails dug into my napkin under the table as Nicole soaked in the applause.

Walter’s eyes wandered on him for a fleeting second before his eyes again glued to that freaking phone.

Vivian tried to stay normal as she applauded for him but I coud sense the tension radiating off her body.

Vivian’s palms touched together in applause, but the sound was softer than the others. Forced. Like her hands were clapping while her heart wasn’t in it.

Her smile was picture-perfect, but if you looked close...too close...you would have seen the edges strain. Her gaze flicked toward Dave for the briefest second, then back to Nicole.

She was proud, sure. But not of Nicole. Not of this announcement.

Vivian’s son was Dave. Her blood. And every fiber of her being screamed that he should’ve been the one sitting in that spotlight, not Nicole....the stepson she never fully claimed as her own.

But she swallowed it. Because that’s what Vivian Morris did, she played the part. The gracious stepmother. The elegant wife. The supportive matriarch.

Except her knuckles had gone white against the champagne glass she held.

Nicole, oblivious, went on about strategies and future plans, soaking in the admiration like a sponge. The table hummed with approval, everyone nodding, voices layering over one another with encouragement.

Everyone... except Vivian.

She kept her eyes down, lashes lowering to hide the storm brewing behind them. Her son sat there, quiet, controlled, showing no reaction as always. Dave had perfected neutrality.

But she hadn’t. She never would when it came to him.

Every time Grandpa Albert praised Nicole, she felt it like a slap. Every laugh, every approving nod...it dug into her ribs like little knives.

Because the truth was simple: Vivian didn’t want Nicole in charge. She didn’t trust him. He was ambitious, yes, but cold, calculating, and already far too comfortable in the spotlight.

Dave, on the other hand, had Walter’s sharp mind and her own quiet strength. He had been raised in this family, shaped by it. He belonged at the head of the table, not warming a seat beside it.

Vivian lifted her glass finally, lips curving into a smile that didn’t touch her eyes. She tilted her head toward Nicole, voice smooth as silk.

"Congratulations, Nicole. I’m sure you’ll... manage well enough."

It was subtle, but the pause was sharp enough for Dave to catch it. For Walter too, though he pretended not to notice.

Nicole’s smile flickered for a split second before he recovered. He nodded, gracious as ever, but his eyes narrowed just slightly, like he was filing her words away for later.

I sat there watching all of this, pretending to nibble at a breadstick. And God, it was exhausting. The undercurrents at this table were worse than any soap opera.

But one thing was clear...even if no one else dared to say it aloud...Vivian wasn’t rooting for Nicole.

She was waiting. Waiting for the moment her son, Dave, would take the place she believed was rightfully his.