Chapter 11 - Measuring the Empire
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I hung up the phone and walked back into the warmth of the ballroom.
I walked smoothly over to our table and sat down beside Elena. She looked up at me, her eyes filled with quiet concern.
“Is everything alright, Robert?” she whispered, reaching out to cover my hand with hers. “You look so pale.”
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” I said, squeezing her hand gently. “Just finalizing a few business matters.”
“Did you hear what Vanessa said on the microphone earlier?” Elena asked, her voice trembling slightly. “About the Ridgemont house? Robert, did you really promise them that estate? We worked so hard for that home...”
I looked into the soft, gentle eyes of the woman who had spent three decades sacrificing her youth, her comfort, and her peace of mind for our family.
“No, Elena,” I said clearly. “I never gave them that house. And after tonight, they won't even be allowed to walk down the street it sits on.”
At nine-thirty, the DJ’s voice cut through the background music, announcing the next event on the reception schedule.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time for the traditional parent dances! Will the groom please escort his mother to the center of the dance floor!”
Spotlights swung toward our table.
Daniel stood up from the head table, adjusting his collar. He walked over to where we sat, extending a stiff, impatient hand toward Elena.
“Come on, Mom,” Daniel said brusquely, his voice devoid of warmth. “Let’s get this over with quickly. Vanessa wants to cut the cake in ten minutes.”
He treated her like a chore. A tedious box he had to check off before he could get back to enjoying his stolen glory.
Elena began to push her chair back, preparing to stand up and give her son the dance he didn't deserve.
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Before her feet touched the floor, I reached out and firmly caught her wrist.
“Not tonight, Elena,” I said calmly.
