CHAPTER 218: THE ANNOUNCEMENT

Jeffrey watched from the doorway as Joanne stepped into the room, radiant in a new dress he chose, that hugged her form like it had been made just for her. The fabric shimmered subtly under the soft lights, catching the faint gold tones of evening as it framed her silhouette in quiet elegance. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, and the diamond on her finger glinted like a secret only the two of them knew.

He was glad now that he had chosen all those dresses for her, even if he had slept through most of the shopping spree the last time he went with her. But somewhere, he’d learned exactly what styles made her feel like herself: strong, beautiful, playful. And tonight, the choice had been perfect. She hadn’t needed a single alteration on the dress. Of course not. She had a perfect figure.

She practically floated on her way back from the oak tree, grinning at every soul she passed. "I said yes!" she had shouted at the gardener. "I said yes!" she told the housekeepers, the stable boys, even the chef peeking out from the kitchen window. She’d already FaceTimed Fiona, Veronica, and the others, waving her hand in front of the camera with giddy, infectious pride. Pictures had been sent. Reactions had been screamed. Happy tears shed.

Now she was glowing.

Jeffrey offered his hand to her with a crooked smile. "Shall we?"

"I love you, Jeffrey," she whispered, standing on tiptoe to kiss him sweetly before looping her arm into his. Her smile was luminous. There had been many versions of Joanne in his memories—angry, heartbroken, brave—but this... this was the happiest he had ever seen her.

And maybe he was biased, but he was sure this version of her was the most beautiful of all.

They walked down the hallway together, the marble floors echoing beneath their steps. On the way, they ran into Philip and Christina, who were about to head to the dining room. Joanne instantly let go of Jeffrey’s arm and practically bounced toward them.

"Jeffrey proposed and I said yes!" she said, grinning from ear to ear.

Christina gasped softly, tears rushing to her eyes as Philip’s face lit up with restrained but unmistakable pride as he looked at Jeffrey.

"My darling girl," Christina whispered as she embraced her, and even Philip leaned in, patting Joanne’s back with a fondness that was rarely shown so openly.

Jeffrey watched the scene in silence, the love between his grandparents and his fiancée—his fiancée—wrapping around him like warmth from a hearth.

Together, the four of them walked toward the grand dining room where the rest of the family had already gathered.

The moment they entered, conversations ceased. Heads turned. Every gaze zeroed in on the four of them walking in together—united, smiling, glowing with something undeniable. And then someone spotted the ring on Joanne’s hand.

The silence broke into a flurry of whispers and stolen glances.

They took their seats amidst the buzzing curiosity, but Jeffrey didn’t care. Let them stare. Let them wonder what changed. He had Joanne beside him now, and nothing else mattered.

He glanced at her as she smoothed the skirt of her dress and smiled toward the table. And there it was again... that light in her eyes.

Joanne Smith. His future. His forever.

Philip Winchester stood at the head of the long, candlelit dining table, the family crest gleaming behind him like a silent witness to the legacy he guarded so fiercely. He raised his glass and with a rare warmth in his voice, made the announcement.

"My dearest family, tonight, I have the honor of formally announcing the engagement of my grandson, Jeffrey, to Miss Joanne Smith." His eyes softened as they briefly met Joanne’s. "There will be an engagement celebration within the month, and the rest"—he paused, letting the implication stretch—"will unfold as they decide."

There were polite murmurs, scattered applause, and a few surprised gasps. Joanne smiled with practiced grace, her fingers discreetly tightening around Jeffrey’s hand under the table. She could feel his pride, but also a small tremor of nervousness.

Philip continued, more solemn now, "Also, we are blessed with another piece of good news. Joanne is expecting. This is a private family matter and shall remain so—no media, no gossip. Do I make myself clear?"

A unified nod passed around the table, the air thickening with a new kind of reverence. Some faces were genuinely delighted. Others wore measured politeness. Joanne met each gaze calmly, though she could feel the scrutiny like a second skin.

After the applause faded, Robert rose from his seat.

"I’d like to introduce someone special as well," he said, smiling as he placed a possessive hand on the arm of the woman beside him. "This is Brianna Hauser, my girlfriend."

All eyes turned to the poised blonde sitting at his side, her every movement laced with polished elegance. She stood to greet them with the practiced grace of someone born and bred to impress.

"Hi, I’m Brianna," she said, her voice like warm honey with just a hint of steel. "I’ve heard so much about you all."

Joanne tilted her head, studying her with a neutral smile. Brianna had the look of a socialite with degrees from Ivy League universities and family trees trimmed in gold—hair perfectly styled, diamonds sparkling discreetly on her wrist, and a designer dress that whispered old money. If appearances alone mattered, Joanne would have pegged her as intelligent, composed, even likable.

And then... Brianna opened her mouth again, tilting her head slightly toward the newly engaged couple. Her smile was luminous but cold, like moonlight on steel.

"Congratulations," she said sweetly, lifting her champagne flute. "Although I’ve been dating Robert for six years, I’m only now invited to the family dinner... all thanks to you, Joanne."

A delicate hush fell across the table.

To the untrained ear, it sounded like a compliment, perhaps even a gracious acknowledgment. But every woman in the room felt the chill beneath her words. Brianna’s sentence was a polished dagger cloaked in civility: a reminder that despite her pedigree, her time, her polished perfection, she had never been truly welcomed here. That the doors had opened not for her, but for the farmgirl with dirt once under her nails.

A jab at Robert, too, for not proposing.

A subtle protest at Philip’s choices.

And finally, a dig at Joanne’s past—at the very public rejection five years ago that Brianna clearly hadn’t forgotten.

Joanne lifted her glass with a small, unbothered smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "You’re gracious, Brianna," she said smoothly, the words warm on the surface but soaked in polite indifference. She didn’t blink. She didn’t flinch. And most importantly—she didn’t bite.

That, of course, made it worse.

Across the table, Robert shifted slightly in his chair. His smile faltered for the first time. He stared at his wine glass like it might offer him an escape. Even he wasn’t immune to the tension his girlfriend was stoking.

Jeffrey, on the other hand, looked ready to throw his glass. His knuckles were white under the table.