CHAPTER 236: A TABLE FOR TWO FAMILIES [IV]

The main course arrived in a flurry of silver platters and aromatic steam, but the food was merely background noise to the silent war unfolding across the table. Adrien’s hand remained on mine, grounding me.

Caden, now seated, had thankfully shifted his attention to the wine list, though his smirk lingered like a stain. Yvonne sipped her drink with the elegance of someone who’d perfected the art of silent judgment. Elise, ever the diplomat, kept the conversation flowing, asking about Leo’s favorite subjects and my father’s veterinary practice.

My father, to his credit, was trying. He nodded politely, answered questions with clipped formality, and even managed a faint smile when Elise complimented his dedication to animals. But every so often, his gaze would drift to Adrien, and I could see the question still burning behind his eyes: How did we end up here?

The last plates had been cleared, leaving only half-empty wine glasses and the faint sweetness of crème brûlée lingering in the air. Chandelier light dripped in golden threads over the table, catching on crystal stems and Elise’s earrings as she laughed softly at something Leo said. The tension from earlier had thinned, but it hadn’t disappeared; it hovered, like smoke that refused to clear.

Adrien hadn’t spoken much through the meal. He hadn’t needed to. His stillness drew the room around him, every so often tightening his hand over my thigh beneath the table, reminding me with that quiet pressure that he was there—anchoring me, claiming me.

When he finally moved, setting down his glass with deliberate grace, the hush was instant. The sound was nothing more than crystal touching linen, yet it carried the weight of a gavel.

"There’s something my wife and I want to share," Adrien said, voice smooth as dark velvet, cutting through the gentle chatter. His gaze slid across the table, sharp enough to pin every restless hand into stillness.

"Isabella and I," he announced, his gaze sweeping across the table, lingering on his father, "registered our marriage at the court yesterday."

A collective gasp rippled through the room. My father choked on his water. Leo’s jaw dropped.

"And," Adrien continued, holding my hand, his thumb tracing circles on my skin, "we plan to have our white wedding next week Saturday."

Elise clapped her hands together, a brilliant smile lighting her face. "Perfect! Absolutely perfect, Adrien! Oh, darling, this is wonderful news!" She looked at me with genuine joy.

Caden, however, leaned forward, a sardonic twist to his lips. "Next week Saturday? Isn’t that a little... fast, brother? Especially for someone you’ve been keeping out of the public eye for so long." He shot me another suggestive look. "One might think there’s a reason for the rush."

Yvonne, Adrien’s stepmother, seized the opportunity. "Indeed. A court wedding? And a white wedding just days later? Isabella, dear, how long have you and Adrien been... involved?" Her tone was saccharine, but her eyes were cold, dissecting me. "And what exactly is your background, outside of being Adrien’s assistant? One simply doesn’t marry into the Walton Empire without... proper vetting."

Before I could formulate a response, Elise interjected, her voice firm, losing none of its warmth but gaining an undeniable edge. "Yvonne," she said sweetly, Isabella is my daughter-in-law. Not yours. Any questions about her or my son’s decisions are addressed to me. And I believe Adrien has excellent judgment." She smiled at me, a silent reassurance. "Besides, love doesn’t always follow a schedule, does it?"

I offered Elise a grateful smile.

Caden, unperturbed, winked at Leo. "I like this guy. He seems fun." Leo, still recovering from the wedding news, just blinked. Caden then turned back to me, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "So, Isabella, if you ever need a break from all this high-pressure drama, my number’s in Adrien’s contacts. Just ask."

Adrien’s hand clenched around mine, but he remained silent, letting Caden hang himself with his own rope.

Then, Adrien’s father, who had been silent, observing with cold, calculating eyes, finally spoke, his voice deep and resonant, cutting through the polite conversation laced with the icy authority of a man unaccustomed to being challenged. "It seems my son has developed rather peculiar tastes," he stated, his eyes boring into mine, bypassing Adrien entirely. "You may think you’ve stepped into a dream, young woman, but this family does not suffer illusions for long. I hope you are prepared for the responsibilities that come with this family. It is not for the faint of heart."

The words were a lash, meant to cut. My father stiffened beside me, his hand twitching as though to answer for me. But I couldn’t let him. He had raised me to stand my ground, and this was my place to prove it.

Before I could speak, Leo’s fork clinked against his plate.

He looked up, no longer wide-eyed with awe but narrowed with something sharper—something protective.

"She’s not some illusion," Leo said, voice low but firm. "She’s my sister. And she’s real."

The room stilled. Even Caden paused mid-smirk.

Leo glanced at me, then Adrien, then back to Mr. Walton. "You don’t have to like her. But you don’t get to talk down to her."

A beat of silence followed, thick and charged. Elise’s eyes softened with quiet approval. Yvonne’s lips thinned. My father looked at Leo like he’d just grown a second head. I could see him mouth ’do you want to get us killed?’

But I didn’t let the moment linger. I met Mr. Walton’s gaze, refusing to flinch. Taking a quiet breath, I allowed a small, confident smile to grace my lips. "Mr. Walton," I said, my voice steady, "I assure you, I know precisely what I have chosen and I am acutely aware of the responsibilities. In fact, I believe I bring a unique set of skills perfectly suited to navigating whatever comes with those responsibilities."

He narrowed his eyes, clearly not expecting such a direct and unflustered response. But he wasn’t done. "And what might those be?" he challenged, a hint of disdain in his tone. "Aside from, perhaps, charming my son into this hasty arrangement?"

I kept my smile in place, choosing my words with care. "My skills, sir, lie in organization, problem-solving, and a profound understanding that true strength often lies in quiet resilience, not ostentatious displays. I am quite adept at resolving issues before they escalate, and I find that a clear mind and a steady hand can untangle even the most intricate of webs." I paused, letting the implication hang in the air. "I believe those qualities will be invaluable in supporting Adrien, and indeed, in contributing positively to the family’s legacy."

I paused, letting my words settle. Caden let out a low whistle, a brief flash of admiration in his eyes before he schooled his features. Leo looked impressed. Elise nodded, a proud glint in her eyes. My father, for the first time all evening, seemed to relax, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips.

Mr. Walton’s expression remained stony, but I saw a flicker of something – surprise, perhaps, or a grudging respect – behind his intimidating facade. His lip curled, his reply sharp. "Bold words. But boldness is easy when you know nothing of the cost."

The air went tight.

And then Adrien’s voice cut through it, smooth and unshakable, the four words heavy as iron:

"You forget yourself, Father."

Adrien didn’t raise his voice, but the quiet pronouncement held an authority that silenced any further dissent. His gaze stayed locked on his father, unwavering, until He leaned back in his chair, lips pressed into a thin line.

Only then did Adrien shift his hand over mine, his thumb stroking my knuckles in a protective gesture. "Isabella," he continued, his tone softening as his eyes met mine, "is not a pawn to be tested or a stranger to be interrogated. She is my wife. And as such, she is a part of this family."

He paused, letting his words burn into the silence before continuing, his voice edged with steel. "And you would do well to remember, Father, that I am in charge of this family, and by extension Walton Empire. Isabella’s strength, her intellect, her quiet resilience – these are not weaknesses to be dismissed. They are assets. Assets I trust more than I trust most people in this room."

His gaze flicked briefly to Yvonne, then Caden, before returning to his father. "And my judgment, in this as in all things concerning my future, is absolute."

He then turned his attention back to Elise. "Mother, your support means the world to us. We will, of course, plan the wedding with your esteemed guidance."

Elise beamed, her eyes shining. "Oh, Adrien, my darling! Of course! We’ll make it the most beautiful celebration. And Isabella," she turned back to me, her earlier firmness replaced by a radiant warmth, "you must tell me your dreams. We have ample time to make them a reality, however grand or intimate you wish."

"I believe that concludes our evening," he stated, his voice calm, but with an underlying finality. He released my hand beneath the table, then rose, pulling out my chair for me. His hand brushed my back as I stood, guiding me.