Chapter 43 Consume Her
“Rosa, set three more places at the table. Our guests are staying for dinner,” Ravial said, his voice flat, but there was no mistaking that it was not an invitation
Charles recognized the order for what it was. He forced a hollow laugh. “No, we really must be going. Though Avery would love to stay behind with her.. ”
He didn’t get to finish. Two of Ravial’s men stepped forward and pushed the large double doors shut, the wood slamming with a firm, resounding thud. Charles’s eyes flickered to them. Alyssa flinched, a shiver crawling down her spine, and she stepped back a few paces behind Charles, whose expression looked as if he’d swallowed something bitter.
“I insist,” Ravial said, cold and precise. The temperature in the room seemed to drop, just enough that everyone noticed. Charles’s eyes flicked to the air-conditioning unit; the digital display hadn’t changed. Then he scanned the suited men, about a dozen, positioned near the doors, others closer to Ravial.
Avery felt the chill as well, but she didn’t dwell on it. Her attention was drawn to how Ravial’s hand held Leitana against his side, her face nearly pressed into his pecs. Surprisingly, Leitana didn’t resist, she clutched his clothing tightly, as if she never wanted to leave.
Avery’s stomach sank. Plan B, Charles’s contingency if Ravial refused her after discovering the truth, was far more complicated than she thought. It was glaringly obvious Ravial had known Leitana was not Avery all along. And yet… the way he held her, the devotion, the obsession, was undeniable. Driving a wedge between them would not be easy.
“Come,” Ravial said again, the word flat, final.
He turned, Leitana still welded to his side, her small hand clenching the front of his shirt as though it alone kept her upright.
Charles’s jaw tightened. His teeth ground together. Words failed him. Challenging Ravial now was suicide. Every inch of the man radiated control. The hand on Leitana’s spine curled possessively, daring anyone to touch her.
They followed him to the dining hall, moving like marionettes whose strings were tugged. The doors opened for them by two scurrying staff, and Ravial led the way straight to the head of the table. To everyone’s surprise, and even Leitana’s, he sat and lifted her onto his thigh, eyes flicking to each of them as they took their seats in silence.
Leitana’s heart pounded, her cheeks hot with embarrassment, but she didn’t pull away. Something in the controlled anger emanating from him told her to stay, to not test the anger thrumming beneath his calm surface..
“Dinner will begin shortly,” Ravial said, voice low, smooth, impossible to ignore. “And I expect civility from my guests.”
The chill in the room had nothing to do with the air conditioning. It poured off him in waves.
Leitana’s hand twitched, brushing his. He caught it instantly, pressing it to his chest. Not in casual protection… but in a way that said: you belong here. Only here. Anywhere else is impossible.
The dining hall remained quiet. His hand tapped rhythmically on her waist, sending goosebumps across her skin. She felt her sister’s gaze occasionally, but couldn’t look back, shame burning her cheeks. Soon, the food arrived. The staff served it and left immediately.
Ravial spoke, his voice cutting through the tension. “Explain yourself, Charles.”
Leitana stiffened.
Charles and Alyssa turned to him, but Ravial didn’t glance their way. Instead, he took a forkful of food and nudged it to Leitana’s lips. She froze, eyes wide, appetite gone.
“Open up,” he said softly.
She shook her head. “Mi no hungry.”
Then he leaned close, his warm breath fanning her ear and neck, sending a shiver down her spine.
“Open this pretty mouth and eat, baby… or I’ll decide the other hole’s hungrier. I’ll feed that sweet little pussy my cock until it’s the only thing you taste, right here in front of them.”
His teeth grazed her earlobe just enough to sting.
“So choose. Mouth… or between your legs. Either way, you’re getting fed tonight.”
A shaky gasp slipped from her throat, lips parting on instinct.
Ravial’s smile was small, wicked, merciless.
“Good girl,” he murmured, and slid the bite between her trembling lips like he was rewarding her for surrendering.
Across the table, Charles turned an alarming shade of purple.
Ravial’s gaze flicked up, cold and predatory. “You’re awfully quiet, Senator Hale. I asked you a question.”
Charles bristled, pride warring with survival. The man across from him owned half his company, could ruin him with a phone call, and currently had his daughter pinned to his lap like a trophy. Charles swallowed every cutting retort.
Avery jumped in before her father could speak. “Please don’t be angry with him. It’s not his fault.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, voice wobbling theatrically. “I’m the one who ran. I was terrified of marrying a stranger. Leitana only took my place because Father didn’t want to disappoint you. It was wrong, yes, but… it’s clear.” She gestured weakly. “You clearly love her.”
The word hung in the air like a blade.
Ravial paused, fork halfway to Leitana’s mouth. Leitana tensed, staring at her sister, then at him.
Love?
Ravial set the fork down with deliberate care. His blindfolded face turned toward Avery, lips curling in something too sharp to be a smile.
“Love,” he echoed, tasting the word and finding it bitter. He looked down at the woman on his lap, the one whose pulse fluttered wildly beneath his palm. “No. Love is too small. Too clean.”
His fingers tightened on Leitana’s waist, almost bruising.
“What this is… is ownership. Hunger. A sickness I have no intention of curing.” His voice dropped, lethal. “I don’t love her, little girl. I consume her. And I don’t share food.”
Avery blanched at the endearment and the threat twined inside it.
“O-okay…” The word came out a broken whisper. Her throat worked, but nothing else followed for a second. Then, barely audible:
“We… we understand. I understand. You don’t want me. That’s… that’s fine.”
Her voice cracked on the last syllable. She tried for a nod, a smile, anything to look composed, but it crumbled into a trembling exhale. Tears slipped free and she didn’t even bother wiping them away, just stared at the tablecloth like it might swallow her whole.
Ravial didn’t acknowledge her. Didn’t spare her a glance.
Instead, he lifted another forkful to Leitana’s lips and let the silence stretch until it was almost unbearable.
Finally, without turning:
“Senator Hale.”
Charles straightened like a soldier called to attention.
“You thought you could play me for a fool.”
The fork clinked quietly against the plate as Ravial set it down.
Charles opened his mouth. Closed it.
Ravial continued, voice conversational, almost bored, as though discussing the weather.
“You sent me a counterfeit bride,” Ravial said. “You thought you could swap one daughter for another like livestock at market.”
He brushed a stray curl from Leitana’s cheek with the back of his knuckle, slow, and impossibly gentle, as if the same hand weren’t capable of ending lives without breaking a sweat.
“You truly believed I wouldn’t notice the difference the moment she stepped into my sight.”
Charles’s face went from red to a dangerous plum.
Ravial finally looked at him, head tilted like a predator deciding which bone to crack first.
“You insulted me,” he murmured. “Worse, you insulted what belongs to me.”
Charles puffed up, years of Senate-floor bravado surging to the surface. “Now see here…”
“Shut your mouth.” The words were flat. Absolute.
The single word cracked like a whip. Charles’s mouth slammed shut so fast his teeth clicked.
Ravial eased back in the throne-like chair, one arm banded around Leitana’s waist, fingers splayed in open possession.
“From this breath onward, you speak when I permit it. You breathe because I still find you useful. Raise your voice to her again,” his lips curved, small, cruel, beautiful, “and I’ll cut out your tongue and let my hounds fight over it while you watch.”
A choked sound escaped Charles. Fury and terror warred in him. Nothing coherent followed.
Ravial waited, patient.
“Nod if we understand each other.”
Charles’s head jerked once, stiff and mortified.
Ravial’s attention slid away as though the senator had ceased to exist.
“Good.”
He lifted the fork again, spearing a perfect bite.
“Pass the wine, little lamb,” he murmured, soft only for her.
And just like that, Charles Hale was reduced to scenery, furniture.