Chapter 6 Chapter : 6
The dinner hall was beautiful in a way that felt like no one could take their eyes of it.
It was not warm. And it was not welcoming. Rather it was intentional.
Every detail existed to impress the eyes and intimidate in all equal measure. Long tables of dark mahogany stretched right under the glowing ceilings. This was also the room and symbols of power and lineage. Candles stood at perfect distances from each other, their flames steady and following each other. Crystal glasses were all well polished until they let out the light into gold.
The air smelled like all aged wines, expensive leather and something sharper beneath it. More over, something like metallic. Blood, that was it. Lydia's mind went there, uninvited.
Lydia sat right beside Arthur Romero at the center table. She being the main guest there.
However, the seat felt heavier than it looked to her.
Not because she wanted him closer to her or anything, but she very much did not, because no one questioned it. There was no one hesitated and no one wondered why she was there. Her presence was some how accepted here and with the same certainty as the knives placed beside the plates. She was with the King and now she was a Queen. Nothing less than that.
As if Lydia had always belonged at Arthur Romero's side. And in this place.
And as if the idea of her not belonging had never existed.
Arthur, on the other hand, sat composed, while his back straight and shoulders relaxed the entire time. In a way that spoke of control rather than ease. he looked at him one glance and all she saw was great control. Even in his hands. He didn't dominate the table by raising his voice or commanding attention to any of them. They simply listened.
Arthur did it with gravity. When he spoke, all the men leaned in. And when Romero smiled, a rare and brief one. The men laughed too quickly.
When he fell silent, the table followed almost immediately.
Lydia studied them all quietly in her own mind, her expression calm even as her pulse was too fast beneath her skin, all this time.
Some of the men were young here and dressed in expensive suits. Their confidence loud and careless, built on inherited power or recent bloodshed. Others were older, heavier, their movements slower, eyes sharp and patient. Men who measured the worth of everything twice, once in money, once in bodies.
None of them looked at her the way normal people did.
Their gazes lingered, not leering, not openly hostile.
Assessing.
Something to be tested.
Her plate was set before her all this time. The food was arranged like art. It looked exquisite.
But she didn't touch it, not yet. She wasn't hungry at the moment. Arthur didn't notice at first, he was busy. He was listening to a man two seats away, and all he was speaking about was ports and shipments. His attention half on the conversation, and now on her. And her plate.
But eventually his gaze dipped on her completely. The man noticed the untouched plate and this tracked the tension in her shoulders. His eyes returned to her face.
"You should eat something." He said quietly, without turning his head and she didn't look at him either.
"I'm fine." She whispered, barely. This got him concerned and he knew she was going to be stubborn here as well. With all the guns and all. He let out a heavy breath.
"You haven't eaten since morning." He said and her spine stiffened. "I didn't realize you were keeping track. I think I completely missed that about you." He immediately looked at her.
"I keep track of things that matter."
The calm certainty in his voice irritated her more than a command would have. She wanted him quite but what was hard for him.
"I don't belong here, and even you know that." She murmured, her eyes fixed on the candle flame in front of her. "So stop pretending this is normal for me. People are disgusting here." She expressed.
Arthur though, he leaned back slightly, and his one arm resting along the edge of the table. "Nothing about this is normal. You don't survive by pretending otherwise." He let her know and she smirked to herself.
"That's comforting." She muttered.
Across the table there was laughter that erupted. It was loud and careless. While a man slapped another on the shoulder, the sound sharp in the cavernous room. This caught her attention.
"Romero," the man said, lifting his glass. "Your timing is perfect. We were just discussing about some unfinished business."
Arthur's attention sharpened here, and his posture subtly changed. "Go on." He said in his calm tone. Taking one sip of his champain.
"You remember Bianchi." The man continued casually. "Owed me more than he could pay." The man said, almost laughing about it and this caught Lydia's attention while she looked at him.
Lydia's fingers tightened around her fork, almost immediately.
Arthur didn't interrupt, he was listening.
"He asked for time." The man went on, shrugging. "Said his business was failing and his family was struggling. But he had time and money for his mistress." he said and Arthur, with a few heads nodded. Uninterested.
"I told him debts don't pause for sentiment." The man said with a smile. "When he missed the deadline, my men handled it." he said, proud.
"How?" Someone asked mildly, already bored.
"Quick," The man replied. "Two shots. Clean. Nothing more to do or say." Laughter rippled down the table. Like there was an agreement, some justification and the entire room tilted.
Lydia, on the hand, her stomach clenched violently, her heart rising in her throat.
Her father's face came right into her mind, not pale and still and not broken either. But younger. Alive. Smiling as he held her hand while they were crossing a busy street. her fathers voice came back to her and it was warm, steady. Look both ways, Lydia. Be careful.
He always said that. Her breath immediately stuttered right there and then.
Arthur noticed the tremor in her hand, before she did.
"Lydia." He murmured under his breath, while his eyes still forward. "Breathe."
She hadn't realized she'd stopped doing that. Another voice joined the conversation.
"Necessary," Was what a man said. "Letting weakness slide spreads rot. there was no other way."
"Mercy creates expectation to people, We have all seen it." Someone, lady said this time and everyone else agreed.
Lydia pushed her plate away. She was disgusted. The scrape was soft. To he all of this sounded like a gunshot to her heart and nothing more.
Arthur's jaw tightened there.
The heavyset man across from her finally looked directly at her. His smile was pleasant but also very calculated. "You're quiet. " He said. "Not enjoying the conversation?"
Every gaze turned to her. And Arthur looked at her to see she was distressed.
And immediately his hand slammed and settled flat on the table. A silent warning.
Lydia lifted her chin, forcing her voice steady. "I was raised to believe death isn't a dinner table ."
Silence spread like oil and it was everywhere. Then the man chuckled. "Then you were raised gently Mrs. Romero."
"I want to leave." She said looking at Arthur and immediately got us as well. She was about to fall but Arthur grabbed her.
"Are you okay?" He spoke smoothly.
"I am unwell." She said to everyone and The king got up as well.
"I will take you home" He said, his fingers brushed her wrist. There was no restraining, grounding.
"She's tired," Arthur repeated calmly. "We're leaving." Murmurs followed. Curiosity. Concern. Respect.
Arthur stood and pulled her chair back without looking at anyone else. Lydia hesitated, then rose on unsteady legs. She didn't look back and just like that she was back out of that hell. Lydia took in a deep breath, letting it out and Arthur saw all of that.
She was out and that's all she wanted, to be out of there. Gena was right, they were animal, all of them.
The car ride was silent, not peaceful but just pressed.
The city lights blurred past the tinted windows, all she saw was blob of gold and white dots. Lydia folded her arms tightly across her chest, holding herself together because she was breaking. Her pulse throbbed in her ears.
Arthur sat beside her, his presence heavy even without words but she attention wasn't on anything else but on her, not even the road.
It was just on her.
"You embarrassed them. You shouldn't have left. it was your dinner after all." She said suddenly, breaking the silence.
"I don't care." Was all he said. Almost immediately.
"They were talking about murder like it was accounting," She snapped. "And you just sat there. Do people here think life is so little?" She asked because she was curious. not mad, she wanted to know. Her heart was heavy but her breath hurt as she took it.
Arthur let out a heavy breath.
"I didn't invite you to enjoy it Lydia." Arthur said evenly. "I invited you to survive it and nothing more."
She turned toward him, her eyes sharp and bright.
"You think that makes it better?"
"No," he replied. "I think it makes it honest. You knew this, why are you surprised." That honesty burned worse than cruelty would have. It was better when he was mean to her.
"You could've warned me."
"I did."
"When?" She snapped at him. Loud and heavy her words.
"When I told you who I am." He said, glaring at his wife. The iron gates of the estate appeared ahead, opening silently as the car approached. She didn't even know when they came back.
"You didn't tell me they'd laugh. They were laughing at death, murder, pain." She said more quietly. But losing her mind over it "That it would mean nothing. to them, to you."
"Because to them, it does not." He said like there were no feeling. The car slowed and he already ready to leave. The car stopped and she took out her seatbelt.
"Eat tonight. You're shaking" He added softly. She let out a bitter laugh. "Now you're worried?"
"Yes." He said, looking right at her and there was no hesitation. She was done with him, the pain was more. And she got out, immediately rushing into the house.
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Inside the house, everything felt a little too large, too quiet. Ad the walls seemed to watch her every move.
Lydia went straight to her room, while her fingers trembling as she unclasped the diamond necklace Arthur had fastened around her throat. The stones were cold, heavy and it was all wrong.
She flung it right to the floor. And the sound echoed through out the room. Arthur on the other hand, he saw it and watched her go. He didn't follow her immediately but bent and picked it up carefully. He closed his fist around it as if it were something fragile.
Something that mattered more than it should.
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Arthur was standing near the window when Lydia immediately stormed into his room. His jacket was off, sleeves rolled, tension was already in his frame. The necklace was just laying on the table between them.
"I want to see my father," Lydia said, that being the only thing she wanted
"No." He said. The word landed like a slap.
"You don't get to decide that."
"I do. You need rest." he said, too calm. And she lost it by then.
"You dragged me into this life. " She said, stepping closer. "You married me into your world even when I wanted none of it. And now you're keeping me from the only person I care about?"
"He gave you away," Arthur screamed out of nowhere. "Like a contract. You meant nothing to him."
"He was protecting me." She snapped back. Arthur laughed once and sharp, bitter. "From what?"
"From you." Se screamed. Anger flowed in her.
"He sent you to me, Lydia. Wake up." Arthur snapped, stepping closer and his eyes darker. "He knew exactly who I was. and he didn't care."
"You're lying." She snapped, stunned and water flowing in her eyes.
"I don't lie about things that matter." He stepped even closer.
"Stop talking about him."
"He failed you. Lydia. He didn't care if you lived or died. You are no daughter to him but a bargain."
And right ten there was a slap, and it echoed through out the entire room. Arthur went still and so did she..
.........
.......
....
"You defend him, even now" He said softly, "because the truth would destroy what you think love looks like."
"You don't know love." He whispered, watching him shake the slap off, but her hand hurt a lot.
"I know betrayal." He said, standing right in front of her. They stood inches apart now and heat still crackled between them. Anger tangled with something darker, heavier, impossible to ignore.
"He lied to you," Arthur whispered on her face. "About his debts. About the men watching your house."
"Stop..." She cried. But he didn't stop. Their chest touched now.
"He didn't protect you." Arthur said. "He used you." He sad, never looking away from her. Lydia shoved him. and Arthur caught her wrists, pinning them lightly against his chest.
"I won't hurt you." He said, while his voice rough. "But I won't let you lie to yourself. That enough now"
Her breath stuttered and she could feel his heartbeat. It was steady, strong. The proximity burned her and even him. His eyes went to her lips an then back to her eyes. She was being pulled, hard and somehow she knew there was some truth to his words.
"Tell me you don't feel this." He murmured. And her silence was answer enough. And right there and then, she pulled him to a kiss.
The kiss was raw. There was angry. starving frustration and he gave in as well.
His hand came up to her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek as if grounding himself through her. Her fingers twisted in his shirt, breath breaking. They were eating each other and the moans were loud as well. Rough.
He put her hand inside of her hair and he didn't want to let go. Rather she pulled him closer. She couldn't breath but she didn't care. When suddenly her eyes open and she realized what she was doing. What they were doing.
Then panic surged.
She pulled back, what was she doing. He backed off too and just like that. Lydia struck his face. She slapped him for something she was responsible too.
Arthur didn't move. She panicked but she didn't mean to slap him, kiss him, but she did.
Then she froze.
"What am I doing?" she whispered to herself. Lydia shoved him away, for real this time, as they stared at each other, breathing hard, the air thick with everything unsaid.
"This can't happen," she said, voice shaking. "Not like this."
Arthur's jaw clenched. He looked at her, like he was lost for once. Without saying a single word, she fled. Leaving him there all alone. The King stood there, breathing heavy, watching her leave.
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A few hours went by and Arthur sat alone in the dark long after. He touched his mouth once, as if confirming it had been real.
The maid knocked softly and walked in.
"She hasn't eaten" He said quietly, looking out the window.
"I know," the woman replied gently.
"Take care of her." He said, feeling strange to say it. But he knew he wanted that for her.
"I'll take care of her." She said and walked out.
However, in Lydia's room, she lay curled on the bed as tears soaked the pillow. The maid still knocking at the door but she had locked it.
Arthur's words echoed in her mind.
He lied to you.
Lydia sat there, looking out at the night sky, she was tired and done. her eyes now heavy and she wanted this night to fade away and nothing more. her eyes closed but not to sleep, but to stop looking around her.
That night, neither of them slept. Both stared into the dark. Everything had completely changed for them.