Chapter 66 GAMES
Just like that, it's been just 3 days since Julian's mother came with the perfect wife for her son and Eli, who didn't even want to be married to Julian in the first place, has been living in a makeshift hell.
Eli moved through it like someone walking through a layer of glass: every step careful, every word quiet, afraid to make a sound that would open him up to more ridicule.
“You know how a proper home should be kept, don’t you, Eli?” Mrs. Thorne asked as she walked around touching the appliances for non existent dust. She did not wait for an answer.
Lovia sat nearby, poised. “Julian mentioned you like music,” she said, smiling at Julian as if he were the sun and she congratulated herself for standing near it. Her eyes flicked to Eli with an odd, polite curiosity and then slid away.
“I did not mention that.” Julian said without tearing his gaze away from the tablet he's scrolling through.
Anton folded his arms. “We have a schedule,” he said. “We keep the house running.”
Mrs. Thorne scoffed softly. “A schedule? How quaint. In my experience, real houses are kept by people who understand standards.”
“That’s what the staff is for,” Anton replied.
Julian watched the exchange but said nothing. But when he made a comment about hypocrisy in the corporate world, Lovia responded and they both suddenly started talking.
Lovia laughed at something Julian said, an easy laugh that made the others turn. She reached to touch his arm in passing, a single light, casual contact that left a trace of attention. “You always have the best lines,” she murmured, still smiling.
Eli watched, shoulders tight. He remembered how Julian barely talked casually, it's always Anton initiating talks to soften their evenings. Now Julian smiled and made small jokes in return, and Lovia laughed more. Eli felt invisible and loud at once.
“You look tired, child,” Mrs. Thorne said suddenly, as if she cared about exhaustion. “Are you taking on too much work? You should be gentle with yourself.”
“I’m resting well, infact, I don't do any work.” Eli said, thankful his voice came out steady.
“Is that so?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I could have sworn you're putting in too much work in showing up half naked, sometimes dressed like a doggy, in public.”
Anton’s jaw tightened. “He’s a person, not an exhibit.”
Mrs. Thorne gave him a slow look like he’d said something indulgent. “And you, Anton, need to teach him decorum. The world is not kind to people who look lost.”
Lovia’s smile was the same soft ribbon she wrapped around things. “If you like, I can show him a few etiquette tricks,” she offered. “Julian can vouch for me.”
Julian laughed. “She can. She’s an expert in the social circuit.”
Eli blinked. He did not want lessons in fitting. Lessons were how people learned to be less themselves.
Later, Mrs. Thorne rearranged Julian's bedroom and separated Eli's clothes from Julian's, moving Eli's to a different section in the closet.
Eli pretended not to notice the change, that's even the least of his concern. He's feeling suffocated, not knowing where to keep himself in a huge house full of spaces and rooms, because Mrs. Thorne and Lovia seems to be everywhere.
At dinner Mrs. Thorne called him “Elijah” on purpose, over and over. “Elijah, pass the salt,” she said with a smile that was all teeth. “Elijah, would you mind?”
Lovia laughed quietly at something Julian said, then laid her hand on his wrist where everyone could see.
Eli kept his fork still. He listened to the soft click of cutlery. He listened to the speech the women used like armor. He learned the way they shaped words to bruise without a sound.
“You really are letting them circle him,” Anton said to Julian, in the study later, door shut behind them.
Julian did not look away from the papers he had spread out. “They are guests.”
“They are not here to be guests,” Anton said. “They are here to probe.”
Julian’s hand tapped the pen once on the page. “They are checking the water.”
Anton’s laugh was no humor. “Because you put the boy in it. Why the hell are you not seeing the ridiculousness?”
Julian closed his eyes lightly. “We are handling it.”
“You say that.” Anton’s voice cut lower. “But you keep letting them do things— move things, rearrange our closet, try to push Eli around. They are not satisfied with just being visitors.”
“They will be satisfied when they get nothing out of it.” Julian said. When he spoke, he sounded almost certain.
Anton stepped closer. “You may think you have it under control. You may think walking around calmly will make it so. But they are testing the limits. Miss Devon flirts with you openly. Your mother doesn't miss insulting Eli.”
“We are not showing weakness,” Julian said simply.
“Your idea of not showing weakness is letting them practice ownership,” Anton countered. “You cannot tell me you don’t see it.”
Julian rubbed his forehead. “I see it. I want to control the shape of it. I need to control the narrative.”
“Control doesn’t mean leaving him to be tested,” Anton said. “It means he’s safe. Not a target for their experiments.”
Julian was quiet for a long moment. “I am doing what’s necessary.”
Anton’s voice was softer. “He can’t be another chess piece.”
Julian snapped the papers closed with a soft sound. “I know.”
“I'm not sure you do. You're still letting your mother have her way with everything, as always.”
Julian leaned back on his seat, “do you suggest I chase her out? Or strangle her, maybe?”
“You know that's not—”
“She's not wrong Anton, marrying Eli was something I did out of spite and I wanted to do him everything his father did to me but his pretty eyes won't let me and he's somehow became someone I really love fucking, but that doesn't strip me of my duty.”
“So give him back to me.”
Anton kicked Julian's chair, and Julian let the chair roll back until it hit the wall.
“You're going to need more than anger to get him back. Bring me his father hanging upside down and I'll give him back to you.”
“We have a deal, Julian, keep Lovia Devon and your mother out of Eli's hair.”