Chapter 56 Jonathan and Horace?
THIRD PERSON’S POV.
The picture was a blurry image of her, in it, she was wiping at her eyes while watching Clara and Jonathan kiss.
The caption over the image said, 'Are you crying because you are still in love with him?'
Serena's blood spiked, The image had been taken out of context, she was wiping her eyes because the light rays from the spotlight were causing her to tear up.
If this image got to the internet with that caption, the trolls would eat her alive.
Someone was at that gala, and they wanted to get her in trouble.
Trisha, noticing her silence, snatched the phone from her hand and read the message,
“What the fuck,” Trisha muttered. “Who sent that?”
“I don’t know....” Serena said, rinsing her hands under the water faucet. “But something tells me it’s not our regular tipster.”
“Serena, this is serious, if this gets out…”
“I know,” Serena cut her off.
“What are you going to do?”
“Ignore it,” she turned off the water. And moved to the dryer, “Right now, we are going to have breakfast and announce to my family that we will be leaving the house later in the day.”
Trish nodded, “Speaking of breakfast, I’m starving.”
“Me too,” Serena said, leading the way out of the bathroom door, “let’s go get some food in our system.”
They both walked out the door, headed for the breakfast table.
They got down to see breakfast had begun without them.
Horace, Clara, and Jonathan sat around the table with a spread of pancakes and fruit laid in front of them.
“Good morning guys,” Serena walked in with a smile.
Clara looked up, “You seem happy.”
She turned to Clara, “What’s there to be unhappy about?” Serena asked in a sing-song voice.
Trisha took the empty seat between Clara and Serena.
“Clara, do you really have to wear that gigantic thing on your neck just to have breakfast?” Trisha asked.
All eyes snapped to Clara’s neck where the emerald necklace Jonathan had given her last night sat.
Serena chuckled.
“Shut up Trisha.” Clara snapped.
“Anyways,” Serena cleared her throat, “I have an announcement.”
Horace looked up and Jonathan sat up straight but Clara didn’t react.
“Later this afternoon, Trisha and I will be moving into Damian’s house,”
Jonathan laughed, “Really? That’s wonderful news.”
“Took you long enough,” Clara replied flatly.
Horace took a forkful of pancakes to his mouth and chewed quietly.
“What’s wrong, Father?” Serena chuckled, “Don’t you want to give me your blessings?”
“Serena, if it were up to me, you wouldn’t have lived a single day in this house. So I cannot begin to explain how much joy this brings me.”
Serena offered a tight smile, “It shouldn’t give you so much joy. The fact that I will be gone does not mean I will not be watching every single one of you like a hawk.”
Clara chuckled, “If only you put this much energy into your relationship with Damian.”
“Don’t you dare,” she snapped. “Do not ever speak about my relationship again.”
The smile on Clara’s face widened, turning into a mischievous one. “And what exactly are you going to do if I speak on it Serena?” She taunted.
“Clara,” Jonathan warned.
She didn’t even look at him. “This is between my sister and me, Jonathan. Stay out of it.”
Trisha laughed lightly at Clara’s blatant dismissal.
Jonathan’s jaw tightened. He opened his mouth to respond but Serena’s voice cut him off.
“There is no ‘you and me,’” she said coolly, pointing at Clara. “You’re not worth my time.”
Trisha squeezed Serena’s shoulder gently. “Ignore her,” she murmured. “We have a long day ahead. Let’s just eat.”
She gestured toward Constance. “Breakfast, please.”
The tension remained at the table even as plates were set down and cutlery began to clink.
Breakfast had ended a while ago, but Clara lingered at the dining table, uploading pictures from the gala to her Instagram.
It took her nearly two hours to find the perfect song and the perfect caption. When she finally posted, she headed upstairs to her new room, the one she now shared with Jonathan.
All Clara’s attention was focused on the phone in her hand as she watched how one by one the likes count on her picture increased.
So, she didn’t notice Jonathan standing in front of her when she opened the door until his hand clamped around her arm.
In one swift motion, he spun her and shoved her against the wall.
Her vision blurred for a moment before her eyes focused on Jonathan’s figure.
“What the fuck, Jonathan?” she snapped, when she recognized him, trying to push him away.
He didn’t move at first.
Then, slowly, he budged. Stepping back just enough to let her breathe.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she spat.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!” Jonathan repeated, pointing an unsteady finger at her. “How dare you talk to me like that downstairs. In the presence of people?"
She shoved him aside, “If you don’t want to be spoken to a certain way then don’t speak on things that do not concern you.”
“Clara,” He said slowly his “I told you not to speak to me like that.” His voice was calm yet dangerous.
“Like what?” Clara challenged, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Did you hear Serena say she was moving to her husband’s house?”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“It means it’s not normal for you to be living in my house with my family. We were supposed to move out, not stay here.” Her voice rose. “But of course, you and my father decided on that already, didn’t you?”
Jonathan frowned. “We talked about this.”
“No. You talked. My father agreed. But nobody asked me.”
She paused.
“Speaking of my father… What business do you two have together?”
His eyes flickered, just briefly. “What do you mean?”
Clara hesitated, she couldn’t reveal that she saw them together. Not yet.
“Nothing,” she said, softer now. “You two just seem… close lately.”
“He’s your father,” Jonathan replied smoothly. “Of course I need him to like me.”
“Right,” she muttered.
Suddenly his hand gripped hers again, tighter this time.
“But listen closely Clara,” he leaned in, his breath brushing her ear, “let that be the last time you ever do that. Especially in public.”
She scoffed, “My father was at that table too, Jonathan,” Clara said, pulling her hand from his grip. “But you didn’t see him inserting himself into Serena and my conversation, did you?”
She tilted her head slightly, studying him.
“Now, that’s how a man behaves.”
The words lingered between them.
Jonathan didn’t respond.
For a moment, the room was still. Too still.
Then shaking her head, Clara turned, lifted her chin, and walked toward the door without looking back.
Jonathan remained exactly where she left him.
His jaw tightened. The muscles there, ticking. His gaze shifted slowly to the door.
Then to his own hand, the same one she had pulled away from. He flexed his fingers, clenching and unclenching them.
A faint smile curved at the corner of his mouth but not in amusement.
He shook his head.
If they hadn’t been under her father’s roof…If there weren’t walls with ears and servants in hallways…
Clara would have discovered that Jonathan did not like being compared to other men.
And he especially did not like being defied.
Not twice.