Chapter 3 - Shattering the Aristocratic Illusion
"You are insane!" Genevieve screamed as the executives hastily packed their briefcases and fled the room, sensing the impending, catastrophic explosion. "My father will pull our funding! Sterling Aviation will take a massive hit! Our stock will plummet!"
"Let him pull it," Alistair fired back, his voice deadly calm. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, turning fully to face the woman his family had forced him to choose over me. "I spent the last two and a half years destroying my soul to build this company into something untouchable. I let my toxic father and his board dictate my entire life. I let them convince me that a wife from a 'normal' background would hinder my ascent. I let my own father draft a letter to the only woman I ever truly loved because I was too much of a coward to stand up to him."
He took a menacing step toward Lord Kensington. "I traded my happiness for a seat at your rotting table. And last night, I looked into the eyes of a son I didn't even know existed. A son who has my eyes. A son who doesn't even know my name."
Genevieve crossed her arms, her lip curling into a vicious sneer. "So what? You're going to throw away billions to play house with her? She hid a child from you, Alistair! She's a manipulative, vindictive liability."
"She protected her son from a man who told her she was a consequence to be dealt with," Alistair corrected, his voice breaking on the final word, thick with unshed tears.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out the massive velvet box containing the emerald engagement ring he had given Genevieve, and slammed it down onto the glass table. "The wedding is canceled, Genevieve. Take your father's dirty money and get out of my sight."
Genevieve stared at the velvet box, her face flushing with humiliated rage. She looked at me, her eyes filled with pure, unfiltered venom, before snatching the box off the table and storming out of the boardroom, her father trailing furiously behind her. The heavy glass doors slammed shut behind them, rattling dangerously in their metal frames.
The room fell entirely, suffocatingly silent. I slowly packed my legal briefs back into my leather bag, my hands remarkably steady despite the hurricane tearing through my chest.
"Clara," Alistair whispered. He walked over to my side of the table, stopping a few feet away, treating me like I was a wild animal that might bolt at any second. "I don't expect you to forgive me. I know I don't deserve it. When my grandfather died, my father threatened to strip me of my shares and destroy my career if I didn't marry into the Kensington family to secure our capital. I panicked. I convinced myself I was doing it to save the company. I let him send that letter. I convinced myself you were better off without my chaotic, toxic, miserable world."
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"You didn't get to make that choice for me, Alistair," I said softly, gripping the handle of my briefcase. "And you certainly didn't get to make it for Sebastian."
"I know," he choked out, a single tear spilling over his dark lashes and tracking down his jaw. "I have missed a year and a half of his life. I missed his first steps. I missed hearing him speak his first word. I will carry the agony of that loss until the day I die. But please, Clara. I am begging you on my knees. Don't make me miss the rest of it."
