Chapter 56 56.

Chapter 56 56.
Chapter 56: Ashley's POV
The weekend dragged by painfully.
Marcus had actually sent me a thick binder labeled Confidential: Strategic Overview, complete with profiles on every member of the Bryson family. Their personalities, habits, likes, dislikes—even the topics to avoid during conversations.
It sounded ridiculous. But I still read every page.
Twice.
By Sunday afternoon, I could probably pass a quiz on the Brysons, yet none of it made me feel ready.
The black SUV rolled through the iron gates of the Bryson estate in Forbes Park, and my stomach twisted into knots.
The estate was enormous.
Perfectly trimmed gardens stretched across the property. Marble fountains sparkled beneath the afternoon sun, while the mansion itself looked more like a private museum than someone's home.
This wasn't just wealth. It was generational wealth.
"Ashley." Marcus's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I turned toward him. He looked as composed as ever in his charcoal suit, not a single strand of hair out of place. Meanwhile, I was trying to remember how to breathe. "Breathe," he said quietly.
His hand covered mine.
Warm.
Steady.
"You look beautiful."
I let out a shaky laugh. "I feel like I'm about to defend myself in court."
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "It's not a courtroom." He squeezed my hand gently. "It's a board meeting." Then, after a beat, he added, "And I own the majority."
I couldn't help smiling despite my nerves. The driver opened the door.
Marcus stepped out first before offering me his hand. I accepted it, carefully climbing out while adjusting my navy maternity dress. I'd paired it with a cream blazer, hoping it looked elegant enough without trying too hard.
His hand stayed at the small of my back as we walked toward the entrance. It was surprisingly comforting.
The staff welcomed us inside and led us straight to the formal dining room. The room was elegant but intimidating, with polished mahogany furniture, crystal chandeliers, and tall windows overlooking the gardens.
At the head of the table sat Edward Bryson. The moment he saw us, his entire face lit up.
"There you are!" he said cheerfully. "Come, come. We're waiting for you." I smiled politely. Then my eyes landed on the woman seated beside him.
Jessa Bryson. She didn't stand. She didn't smile. She simply watched us. Her gaze lingered on Marcus's hand resting against my back before finally meeting my eyes.
"Father. Mother," Marcus greeted evenly as he pulled out my chair.
"Ashley, isn't it?" Her voice was calm.
Too calm.
Before I could answer, her eyes drifted toward my stomach.
"So," she said, silence settled over the table. "I have to admit," she continued, lifting her wine glass, "I never imagined my son would choose to start a family this way." Her eyes returned to me. "Especially with someone representing the Orwells."
I felt my fingers tighten around my napkin beneath the table. Marcus calmly unfolded his own.
"Our relationship is our business, Mother."
"Is it?" she asked lightly.
"You're the CEO of Bryson Enterprises. Very little about your life remains private." She took another sip before looking directly at me. "So tell me, Ashley... How exactly did this happen?"
There it was. The question hidden beneath the question.
How did someone like me end up carrying Marcus Bryson's child? Before I could answer, Marcus spoke.
"It happened because I wanted it to." His voice remained calm, but there was steel underneath every word. "If you're questioning Ashley's place beside me, then you're questioning my judgment."
Jessa held his gaze. For several long seconds, neither of them looked away. Edward Bryson finally cleared his throat.
"Let's not turn dinner into a business negotiation," he said with an awkward chuckle. "The poor girl hasn't even eaten yet."
"I'm thinking about this family, Dad," Jessa replied without looking away from me. "My concern is the Bryson name." Her eyes settled on my growing bump. "And the child who'll carry it."
A lump formed in my throat. If only she knew. This wasn't Marcus's baby. Every word she said made the guilt sitting inside my chest feel heavier.
But I couldn't let it show. I lifted my chin.
"I understand your concerns, Mrs. Bryson." My voice shook slightly, but I kept going. "I'm here because Marcus asked me to be. I didn't force my way into his life. And I'm not leaving simply because I'm being judged before you've even gotten to know me."
Marcus glanced at me. For the first time since we'd arrived, I caught the faintest hint of approval in his eyes.
Under the table, his hand found mine again. He gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Jessa noticed. Of course she did.
"We'll see." She picked up her wine glass once more. "Dinner has only just begun."
And somehow... I knew that wasn't a warning about tonight. It was a warning about everything that would come after.
The tension around the table wasn’t broken by another argument. It was interrupted by the sound of the dining room doors opening.
A butler stepped inside, looking noticeably uneasy. Behind him was a woman in a white lab coat carrying a silver briefcase. The logo embroidered on her coat caught my eye.
St. Jude’s Advanced Genetics Clinic.
My stomach dropped.
“Forgive the interruption, Mr. Bryson,” the butler said with a slight bow. “The representative from the clinic has arrived.”
Marcus’s hand tightened around mine beneath the table.
“What representative?” he asked, his voice suddenly colder.
The woman stepped forward and offered a polite smile.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Bryson. Ms. Martin.” She placed the briefcase on the table and opened it, revealing several documents and sealed medical kits. “I’m here to facilitate the paperwork and sample collection for a non-invasive prenatal paternity test. We’ll need both parents’ signatures on the consent forms before we proceed.”
The room fell silent.
“A paternity test?” Edward Bryson blurted out, nearly dropping his fork. He turned to his daughter in law in disbelief. “Jessa... what is going on?”
Jessa remained perfectly composed. She calmly folded her napkin onto the table before looking at Marcus.
“I arranged it.” No apology. No hesitation. Her gaze shifted to me. “If this baby is truly a Bryson, then there shouldn’t be any objections.” A faint smile appeared on her lips. “It’s only a simple test.” She leaned back in her chair. “Unless, of course...” Her eyes stayed locked on mine. “There’s a reason she doesn’t want the truth confirmed.”
The air in the room seemed to disappear. I felt my pulse pounding in my ears. Beside me, Marcus slowly withdrew his hand from mine.
The look on his face was unreadable. And for the first time since we arrived...I was truly afraid.