Chapter Six : A Seat At The Table

Chapter Six : A Seat At The Table

Chapter Six: A Seat at the Table

Elena’s POV

The dining hall was a battlefield.

A beautifully decorated one, with golden chandeliers hanging overhead and an extravagant table set with the finest china—but a battlefield nonetheless.

Lorenzo’s family was gathered at the long table, the air thick with tension. His father, Don Ricardo Costa, sat at the head, his presence as suffocating as ever. Beside him was his wife, Bianca, her perfectly styled hair and cold expression making her look more like a queen than a mother.

To their left sat Lorenzo’s older brother, Enzo, and his wife, Valentina—who, unlike Bianca, had a sharp tongue and no problem using it.

Then there was Sofia, Lorenzo’s younger sister, who I could tell hated this dinner as much as I did.

And finally, Lorenzo and I.

Seated side by side, bound by a marriage neither of us wanted.

The silverware clinked softly against the plates as everyone pretended to enjoy the meal. It was a farce. A game of pretense, where everyone had a role to play.

Don Ricardo spoke first, his deep voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “Lorenzo, I assume you have taken care of the… situation.”

Lorenzo didn’t even look up from his plate. “It’s being handled.”

A pause. Then, Don Ricardo turned to me, his dark eyes pinning me in place. “And you, Elena? Have you adjusted to your new role?”

I met his gaze, refusing to show weakness. “I’m learning.”

Bianca scoffed softly. “You don’t learn to be a Costa, dear. You either are one, or you aren’t.”

The insult was clear, but I forced a polite smile. “Then I suppose you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Lorenzo’s lips twitched slightly, but he remained silent.

Valentina leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “You must be so overwhelmed, Elena. A simple girl thrown into a world of power and blood. It must be terrifying.”

I gritted my teeth. “I can handle myself.”

“Oh?” Valentina smirked. “I heard you were trembling like a leaf when the note was found in your room.”

My blood turned cold.

I glanced at Lorenzo, but his face remained unreadable. How the hell did she know about that?

Sofia, who had been quiet until now, suddenly spoke. “Leave her alone, Valentina. You’re just upset because Elena has more courage than you ever did.”

Valentina’s smile vanished, her nails digging into the tablecloth. “Watch your mouth, little girl.”

“Oh, I will,” Sofia shot back. “But it must burn knowing that you’ve been in this family for years and still don’t have the respect Elena got in weeks.”

The room fell into an awkward silence. Even Lorenzo glanced at Sofia with mild surprise.

Valentina’s eyes darkened. “You should be careful who you defend, Sofia. You never know when people will turn on you.”

There was something venomous in her tone, something that sent a chill down my spine.

Lorenzo set his wine glass down with a loud clink. “That’s enough.”

But the damage had already been done.

This wasn’t just a family dinner.

This was a war.

And I was right in the middle of it.

By the time dessert arrived, I had lost my appetite.

I could feel Lorenzo’s gaze on me, watching, waiting.

I hated it.

I hated sitting at this table, pretending I belonged.

So, I did the one thing I shouldn’t have done.

I stood.

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to me.

“Elena—” Lorenzo warned, but I ignored him.

“I appreciate the meal,” I said, my voice steady, “but I won’t sit here and listen to people talk about me as if I’m not in the room.”

Bianca’s eyes narrowed. “You think you can just walk away?”

I met her gaze. “I’m not your prisoner.”

Lorenzo’s father let out a low chuckle, one that sent a shiver down my spine. “You’re a Costa now, Elena. And Costas don’t walk away.”

I clenched my fists. “Then maybe I’m not a Costa.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I had made a mistake.

Lorenzo’s chair scraped against the floor as he stood. His expression was unreadable, but I could feel the storm brewing inside him.

“Enough,” he said, his voice dangerously low.

No one moved. No one spoke.

Then, without another word, Lorenzo grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the dining hall.

The door slammed behind us as Lorenzo turned to face me.

“What the hell was that?” he demanded.

I pulled my hand free. “That was me refusing to be treated like garbage.”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Elena, you don’t understand what you just did.”

I crossed my arms. “Oh, I understand perfectly. I embarrassed you in front of your family.”

His jaw clenched. “This isn’t just about me! Do you have any idea what happens to people who disrespect my father?”

I swallowed hard but didn’t back down. “Then maybe your father should learn to respect people first.”

Lorenzo let out a bitter laugh. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

I stepped closer, meeting his gaze. “Neither do you.”

For a long moment, we just stood there, breathing heavily.

Then, to my shock, Lorenzo sighed and took a step back. “You should go to bed.”

I blinked. “What?”

He turned away. “It’s late. Go.”

I hesitated but finally nodded.

As I walked to my room, my mind raced.

Something had changed tonight.

Lorenzo wasn’t just angry.

He was worried.

And that scared me more than anything else.

As I reached my bedroom door, I paused.

Something felt… off.

The hallway was too quiet, the air thick with something unspoken. A strange chill crept up my spine, and for the first time since entering this house, I felt truly uneasy.

I turned the doorknob slowly and stepped inside.

Then I saw it.

A single white envelope lying on my bed.

My heart pounded as I picked it up, my fingers trembling slightly. The paper was thick, expensive—whoever left it had meant for it to be found.

Swallowing hard, I unfolded the note.

“You don’t belong here. Leave before it’s too late.”

The blood drained from my face.

My hands tightened around the paper as I glanced around the dimly lit room. The window was shut. The door had been locked. And yet, someone had been inside.

Watching me.

A presence stirred behind me, and I spun around—only to find Lorenzo standing in the doorway. His dark eyes flickered to the note in my hand, and for a split second, something flashed across his face.

Recognition.

“You knew,” I whispered.

His jaw tightened. “Go to bed, Elena.”

I stepped closer, holding up the note. “Who left this?”

Lorenzo didn’t answer.

But the silence was enough.

Someone in this house wanted me gone.

And the worst part?

Lorenzo might know exactly who it was.