Richard North stands at the end of the table.
Julian’s father is exactly as I remember him, too smooth, too confident, eyes that sweep the room like everything is his.
Richard’s gaze lands on Julian, then drifts to me like I’m a decorative item someone added last minute.
His smile is polite. His eyes are not.
“Well,” he says, voice rich with amusement. “This is… unexpected.”
Julian’s posture doesn’t change, but something hardens in the air around him.
“Richard,” he says.
Richard’s smile widens. “Married, Julian. And without so much as a family announcement. Your mother was… disappointed.”
I hate that I care. I hate that I feel like I’ve already failed some invisible test.
Julian’s jaw clenches.
Theo shifts beside me, suddenly still. Like a predator pretending to be human.
Elliot’s smile stays in place, but his eyes sharpen.
Rowan’s gaze turns cold.
Caleb’s expression doesn’t change, but I feel something predatory in his quiet.
Richard looks down at me again, smile thin.
“And you must be...”
“My wife,” Julian interrupts.
Two words.
A blade wrapped in silk.
Richard pauses, mid-sentence, as if the interruption surprised him.
Julian doesn’t apologize.
He doesn’t soften it.
“My wife, Lucy,” he repeats, voice calm but immovable. “You’ve met.”
Richard’s eyes flicker, just once. A subtle flash of irritation.
Then his smile returns like a mask.
“Of course,” he says, as if I’m a name he has to remember only because it’s inconvenient not to.
He turns back to Julian. “You’re making quite the spectacle.”
Julian’s gaze holds his father’s. “I don't agree.”
Richard chuckles. “Everything you do is meant to be something.”
Then, casually, like it’s nothing, he slides his eyes past me.
