Chapter 62 There Will Be Consequences
Briar's POV
Chloe sat frozen on the terrace bench, clutching her stuffed bear as she processed my words. Her face crumpled before she forced on a mask of composure, but her eyes stayed haunted.
I didn't wait for her response. I headed inside to the guest room she'd pointed out earlier and collapsed onto the bed, exhaustion pulling me under immediately.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains. Past seven already. The apartment was quiet. I found Chloe curled on the living room sofa, still in her white silk robe, dried tears marking her cheeks even in sleep.
I moved quietly through the kitchen, finding oatmeal, dried fruit, and a pot. I cooked the oatmeal with milk and salt, then washed and cut fresh strawberries from the fridge.
I transferred the finished oatmeal to a container and left it on the counter with a sticky note: reheating instructions and a reminder to eat the fruit fresh.
I pulled out my phone and opened my messages with Leah, scrolling past the unanswered texts from last night. Still no response. I typed out a new message, keeping it brief: [Door lock malfunction. I'll have someone come fix it this afternoon.]
The morning meeting at Vance Botanicals went smoothly. The marketing team had prepared a solid proposal for partnering with high-end fitness chains, distributing laurel tea samples in member packages and recovery kits. I approved it with minor adjustments and headed to the lab just before eleven.
Eric stood at the rotary evaporator, watching deep green liquid concentrate as solvent evaporated. The rich, earthy smell of concentrated herbs filled the air. He carefully transferred it to a container and began filling transparent capsule shells with a small dropper, movements precise and methodical.
"What is this?" I asked, picking up one of the completed capsules.
"Remember that immune support formula we shelved last year?" Eric glanced up, his expression cautiously hopeful. "I've been reformulating it as a capsule supplement. No taste issues this way, and the bioavailability is actually better."
I scanned through his detailed notes beside the evaporator. The formula combined echinacea, elderberry, and several traditional herbs, all carefully balanced. It was solid work, the kind of attention to detail that made Eric invaluable despite his prickly personality.
"This is really good," I said, meaning it. "How long have you been working on this?"
"Nights and weekends, mostly." Eric shrugged, but I could see the pride in his eyes.
Before I could respond, Eric reached into the small refrigerator under his workbench and pulled out three bottles with sleek silver packaging. The labels read "Moonlight Vitality" in elegant script.
"Try this," he said, handing me one. "Something that could complement the laurel tea line for people who need a faster energy boost."
I twisted off the cap and took a cautious sip. The liquid was cool and smooth, with a clean citrus flavor undercut by subtle ginger warmth. It was refreshing without being sweet, and I could feel a gentle alertness spreading through my system, not the jittery spike of caffeine but something more sustained.
"Ginseng and maca root as the base adaptogens, combined with a B-vitamin complex," Eric explained enthusiastically. "I'm using cold extraction to preserve the plant compounds. The citrus and ginger make it palatable, but the real work is being done by the adaptogens."
I checked his information sheet, my eyes catching on the production cost estimates. The numbers made me wince. This formula would cost nearly three times what a standard energy drink cost to produce.
"The cost is going to be a problem," I said. "We'd have to price this well above the competition."
"I know," Eric admitted. "But the quality is there. This isn't just sugar and caffeine."
I considered both products, weighing risks and rewards. "Send the immune capsule formula to our contract manufacturer for a small production run, maybe five thousand units. For the Moonlight Vitality, let's position it as a premium companion to the laurel tea line. Market it to the same health-conscious demographic."
Eric's face lit up with relief. "I'll coordinate with market development right away. Should I bring Owen in on packaging design?"
"Definitely. Get me a full proposal by end of week, including packaging mockups and go-to-market strategy."
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Raymond's POV
The phone call came at two in the morning, jolting me awake. I grabbed for it blindly, my heart racing. Chloe's name flashed on the screen.
"Dad?" Her voice was thick with tears, breaking on the single syllable.
I sat up instantly, reaching for the lamp. "Chloe, sweetheart, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"
"I don't know what the point is anymore," she said, the words tumbling out between sobs. "I don't know why I keep trying with Julian when he clearly doesn't care about me at all."
My wife Isabelle stirred beside me, her hand coming to rest on my arm in silent question. I covered the phone's microphone and whispered, "It's Chloe."
"Did he hurt you?" I demanded. "Chloe, did Julian do something to you?"
"No, nothing like that." Her breathing was ragged. "I just can't do this anymore, Dad. I can't keep pretending this engagement means something when he treats me like I don't exist."
We talked for another twenty minutes before she finally hung up, promising to try to get some sleep. I waited until a reasonable hour, then got dressed and drove to Shadowmoor Pack to bring my daughter home.
Chloe was waiting in the lobby of her apartment building, a small overnight bag at her feet and her eyes hidden behind oversized sunglasses. She didn't say anything when she got in the car, just leaned her head against the window and watched the city give way to tree-lined roads leading to our family estate in Silverwind Pack territory.
I heard crying before I even opened the front door. Willow appeared in the entrance hall, expression tight with concern, gesturing toward the living room.
Chloe was collapsed on the sofa, her whole body shaking, while Isabelle stood nearby looking simultaneously worried and exasperated. Chloe looked up when I entered, face blotchy and tear-stained.
"I thought after the engagement we'd have time to build something real," she said, voice hoarse. "I thought maybe he'd start to see me as more than a political arrangement. But he doesn't care, Dad. He ignores every invitation I send, every attempt to spend time with him, and then forces other women to have dinner with him instead."
Her hands twisted in her lap. "I really like him. I do. But I have self-respect too. Why should I let him treat my feelings like they're worthless?"
"That's enough crying," Isabelle said sharply. "You're giving me a headache with all this noise."
Chloe flinched at her mother's tone, the tears stopping abruptly even as her body continued to shake. I shot Isabelle a warning look, but she just crossed her arms.
"I warned you about this before the engagement," Isabelle said, her voice cold and precise. "I told you exactly what you were getting into with Julian Sterling, but you wouldn't listen. You insisted you could handle it, that you knew what you wanted. And now that you're engaged, you're throwing tantrums like a child?"
Chloe's face crumpled again, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks, but this time she pressed her hand over her mouth to muffle the sounds. Her whole body was trembling, caught between the need to cry and the fear of her mother's disapproval.
Willow moved quickly across the room, her expression softening. "Mom's just worried about you," she said gently, placing a hand on Chloe's shoulder. "Come on, let's go upstairs. You need to rest."
Chloe threw herself into Willow's arms, burying her face in her sister's shoulder as Willow guided her toward the stairs. I watched them go, waiting until the bedroom door closed before turning to my wife.
"This is unacceptable," I said, keeping my voice low but angry. "I don't care what agreements we've made with Shadowmoor Pack. I'm going to Dominic Sterling and telling him this engagement is off. I will not watch my daughter be humiliated like this."
Isabelle's expression didn't change. "We can't let Chloe think she can get whatever she wants by crying about it. This engagement was her idea, her choice. She needs to deal with the consequences."
"She's our daughter," I said, my voice rising. "Not some pawn we're sacrificing for political advantage."
"I know she's our daughter, and I know she hasn't given up on Julian yet." Isabelle's tone was sharp. "She's hurt and angry, but she's not ready to let go. Give her time to cool down. If she still wants out after that, we'll discuss it."
"Fine," I said, clipped. "We'll give her time. But I'm still going to have a conversation with Dominic. He needs to know his son's behavior is unacceptable, and there will be consequences if it continues. I won't have Chloe treated like she's worthless, engagement or no engagement."