Chapter 26 A Lesson on Power
CHAPTER 26: A Lesson on Power
Silas
The air in the room didn’t just freeze up… it died. I stood in the doorway, my pulse thundering in my ears, a rhythm of white hot furry.
I watched the blood drain from Chloe Laurent’s face.
She was still holding a pin, her fingers trembling so violently that the pointy metal dug into her own thumb, just like she had poked Vera just now.
Yes, I saw that.
“M–Mr Rutherford, is—is there a problem?” She stuttered.
I stepped fully into the room, my hot gaze flicking to Natalie whose face betrayed nothing.
“Is there a problem here?” I repeated, my voice dropping to a level that sucked the remaining air from the room. “Seems like you have quite a lot to say about my wife.”
The lousy designer began to fidget, her eyes darting frantically toward Natalie, who remained standing in the middle of the room, arms folded across her chest, watching the scene unfold with an infuriating, detached
calm.
Vera got down from the pedestal, and rushed over, slightly hiding behind me, like she was seeking protection and comfort. But not before I saw the unshed tears in her eyes.
Something hot and ugly shot through me.
"Mr. Rutherford... I was just—the measurements, they were—"
“You were speaking,” I cut her off, my voice slicing icily through the room. “You were speaking to my wife as if she were a mannequin you found in the gutter—”
“You have it all wrong—” Chloe Laurent cut in, shaking her head frantically, eyes wide with fear.
I ground my teeth. “Don’t you ever fucking interrupt me again.”
She froze, swallowing heavily.
“You were commenting on my pregnant wife's body and questioning my judgment in front of my face.”
Her eyes widened, trailing to Vera.
She had no idea.
Well, too late for that. Even ignorance was no excuse for her disgusting actions.
“Sir please forgive me. Madam…” She turned to Vera. “I had no idea. I... I didn't mean any disrespect,” she stammered, her chest heaving as she slowly inched towards us, hands pressed together, looking small and shattered.
I noticed how Vera shrunk back, and I halted the apologising woman with a raise of my hand.
My intention had been to find out why it was taking so long to try on a dress. I was coming to find them when I heard the cruel and disrespectful words.
“You meant every word,” I countered. “You’ve spent years dressing the elite. Yet you clearly never managed to learn that the most important part of a garment is the person wearing it,” I gritted. “We are done here. I will not have my name associated with a brand that exhibits such blatant incompetence and malice."
Chloe’s mouth hung open, a strangled sound escaping her throat. She instinctively fell to her knees.
"Sir, please, Mrs Rutherford’s dress is almost—”
“I don’t care if it’s woven from gold,” I snapped. “Starting from this moment, you can be sure that you’ll never touch a thread for a Rutherford again."
Natalie finally shifted, her expression calm and smooth as glass.
“Silas, let’s be practical. The gala is in two days. If we leave Laurent now, we’ll be at a deficit.”
The designer nodded frantically, holding on to Natalie's words like it was a lifeline.
“I don't care.”
No matter the truth of my relationship with Vera, or whatever else there was, no one had the right to disrespect my wife in public.
She bore my name, and she'd always have my protection.
Natalie stepped forward, her gaze flickering to Vera partially hidden behind me, before returning to me.
She exhaled lightly through her nose.
“Okay. I can take Vera to another designer immediately. I have a contact at Valeska’s who can clear their schedule at such short notice.”
"I know someone.”
Vera’s voice broke through the tension, soft but surprisingly steady.
All heads turned in her direction, including the still kneeling Chloe Laurent.
She stepped out from behind me, her hands clutching the edges of the dark blue dress she was still wearing.
"My friend… Cherry, she knows a designer. Someone very talented who could deliver on time."
Natalie’s eyes sharpened, a small curt smile on her face.
“Vera, this isn't a high school dance. I don't think we can work with that,” she said tersely. “This is a very important event, and we can't afford any slip-ups. We need a name that carries weight. Who is this designer? What is their pedigree?"
”It doesn't matter,” I intervened, grabbing Vera’s dress from the chair and handing it to her.
“Go get changed,” I said. “We're leaving.”
She took the dress readily, and disappeared behind the red velvet curtain.
Natalie stepped closer.
“I know that Chloe was out of line, but you don't have to take a drastic step.”
“This topic is closed.”
The finality in my voice was loud and clear enough.
Vera came out at that point, draping her coat over her shoulder.
The conversation was completely over.
“If she says the person is capable, then that's enough for me. We're leaving.”
I didn't wait for Natalie to protest. I grabbed Vera’s hand. Her skin was ice-cold to the touch, and trembled slightly.
We walked out of the atelier, amidst Chloe Laurent’s pleas and apologies.
The silence back at the car was stifling.
I watched the city lights blur past the window for a long moment before I turned to the woman sitting as far away from me as possible.
A few minutes ago, she had clung to me for protection, now she had put as much distance as she could between us.
My finger curled tightly.
”You need to know this,” I said, my voice low and resonant in the quiet confines of the car. “You are my wife now. In this world, that title is a fortress. You need to learn to defend yourself. I will not have my wife disrespected or humiliated in public again.”
She nodded, perhaps still too overwhelmed to say anything.
I grabbed the envelope on the seat, and slid it towards her. She looked at me hesitantly…wordlessly asking for permission.
“Take it. It's your new account. The first payment is already in it.”
Vera stared at the envelope as if it were a live coal.
When she finally took it, and opened it, pulling out the black titanium card and other legal documents, her eyes widened, a flicker of genuine shock and stunned happiness, breaking through the exhaustion on her face.
“Thank you. I still can't believe it.”
I hummed and nodded.
“I’m keeping to my own end of the bargain. About the business, decide what you want to do, and let me know.”
She nodded, still too emotional, eyes glassy with tears.
She put the card back into the envelope, and held it close to her chest.
The car eased into silence. It was a few minutes later when I felt her head rest on my shoulder that I realised she had fallen asleep.
Her breath was even, her chest rising and falling in a deep sleep.
Before my brain could interpret it, my hand lifted and brushed a stray hair strand from her face.
“What the hell are you doing to me, Vera?” I murmured under my breath.
Despite her apparent meekness and borderline timidity, I knew that the woman who was dangerously inching closer to snapping my restraint had more to her than meets the eye.
Earlier, at the hospital, I could tell that she was not being completely honest.
She didn't know it yet, but I could see how shaken and upset she was after that man disappeared.
I pulled out my phone and dialed a number.
“It's me,” I said as soon as the line connected. “Laurent,” I said with disdain, sharp on my tongue. “I want to see the news of their ruin by tomorrow morning. Dig through their records. Find dirt. Pull their investors, cancel their contracts. Have them blacklisted everywhere that matters. I want them going down, and I want it to be loud.”
Of course I was not going to let them go with a slap on the wrist.
They humiliated my wife in private, but I have never been a man that repaid in equal measure. So I was going to hand them their fatal payback in the public domain.
I paused, my eyes drifting to Vera’s sleeping form, then my mind flashed back to the hospital corridor.
To the mystery man.
”One more thing,” I added, my voice turning lethal. “Access the surveillance footage from the hospital corridor from today. There was a man talking to my wife. Find out his identity. I want to know exactly who he is and why he was there."
I ended the call and stared into the dark, the steady hum of the car air conditioner, the only sound in the night.
If Vera was lying to me, then I needed to find out what she was so bent on keeping from me.