Chapter 75:
The low hum of conversation in the Wills family estate dining room grew faint as Tyler strode through the wide hallways, his jaw clenched, and his strides purposeful.
The soft click of his shoes on the polished floor echoed his simmering frustration.
The weight of what he'd overheard pressed on him, each word of Margaret's rumor-mongering about Samantha replaying in his mind.
He pushed open the double doors to the parlor without knocking. Margaret stood near the grand piano, an ornate tea set on the small table before her.
She looked up, startled by the intrusion, but her surprise quickly turned into a smug smile.
"Tyler," she greeted, feigning innocence. "What a pleasant surprise. Care to join me for tea?"
He ignored the invitation, closing the doors behind him with a deliberate click. "We need to talk."
Margaret arched an eyebrow, reclining slightly in her chair. "Oh? About what?"
"About the rumors you're spreading about Samantha," he said bluntly, his voice sharp enough to cut through the room's genteel atmosphere.
Margaret's expression faltered, but only for a moment. She recovered quickly, pouring herself a cup of tea. "I'm not sure what you're referring to."
"Don't play coy with me, Margaret," Tyler snapped, his tone low but firm. "You've been speaking to the family, planting doubts in their minds about Samantha.. questioning her character, her loyalty. I won't stand for it."
Margaret set the teapot down with a faint clink, her smile growing colder. "Tyler, darling, I'm merely stating facts. The family deserves to know who she really is."
"And what exactly do you think you know about her?" Tyler challenged, stepping closer.
Margaret's eyes narrowed. "Enough. Enough to know she doesn't belong in this family. She's common, Tyler. She doesn't have the poise, the refinement..."
"She's my wife," Tyler interrupted, his voice rising. "That alone makes her part of this family, whether you like it or not."
Margaret's expression hardened, her polite mask slipping. "Your wife?" she scoffed. "A wife who betrayed you, might I add. Or have you conveniently forgotten the scandal that nearly cost us our reputation?"
Tyler's fists clenched at his sides. "That's between Samantha and me. It's none of your business, and it's certainly not your place to weaponize it against her."
Margaret leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm doing what's best for this family, Tyler. And if you're too blind to see that, then perhaps it's time someone else took matters into their hands."
His jaw tightened. "What are you talking about?"
Margaret stood, brushing invisible lint from her dress. "I've been in touch with Veronica," she said casually, watching his reaction.
Tyler's eyes narrowed. "Veronica?"
"Yes," Margaret continued, her tone light but her eyes gleaming with malice. "She's back from Paris and doing quite well for herself. I've invited her to the upcoming family event. I thought it might be nice for you two to reconnect."
His anger flared, hot and immediate. "Reconnect?"
Margaret shrugged, feigning innocence. "She was always a better fit for you, Tyler. Refined, intelligent, from a family that actually matches ours. You two had such potential before... well, before Samantha."
Tyler stepped closer, his voice dangerously calm. "You will not bring Veronica into this."
Margaret tilted her head, unperturbed. "Why not? You haven't exactly shown much enthusiasm for your so-called marriage lately. I'm merely offering you an alternative."
"There is no alternative," Tyler said, his voice rising again. "I don't care about Veronica. I never have, and I never will. Whatever you're scheming, Margaret, it ends here."
Margaret's smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of frustration. "You're being naive, Tyler. Do you think Samantha can handle the pressures of this family? Of your legacy? She's already cracking under the weight of it."
"That's not for you to decide," Tyler retorted. "And it's certainly not your place to undermine her at every turn. If you think I'm going to stand by and let you destroy her, you're sorely mistaken."
Margaret's lips pressed into a thin line, her composure slipping. "I'm trying to protect you," she said, her voice sharp. "From a mistake that could ruin everything."
Tyler took a step back, his gaze unwavering. "The only mistake here is you thinking you have the right to interfere in my life. Stay out of it, Margaret. Or so help me, I'll make sure you regret it."
For a moment, the room was silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
Margaret finally broke the silence, her voice icy. "You're making a fool of yourself, Tyler. But don't worry. When Samantha inevitably fails, I'll be here to pick up the pieces."
Tyler didn't respond. He turned on his heel and left the room, his steps quick and deliberate.
As he walked back down the hallway, his mind churned with anger and frustration.
Margaret's words echoed in his ears, but he pushed them aside.
Samantha wasn't perfect, but she was his choice, and he wasn't going to let anyone take that from him.. not Margaret, not Veronica, no one.
But as much as he tried to shake the conversation, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of his mind.
How much longer could he shield Samantha from his family's meddling? And at what cost?
Margaret watched him go, a sly smile returning to her lips. Tyler
might think he'd won this round, but she wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot.