chapter225

The kiss felt like an eternity, a deluge of suppressed emotion that left Suzanne slightly dazed as she finally followed Nathan downstairs.

The family was already gathered. Florence looked up, her curiosity piqued. “Suzanne, we heard Madam Hoffis visited you yesterday. What did she want?”

The table fell silent. Suzanne took a seat, her movements graceful but cautious. “It was nothing of importance, Mother.”

Layla, however, couldn't resist a sneer. “Nothing much? A woman like Madam Hoffis doesn't pay visits for 'nothing.' It was either a threat or a bribe to get you to step aside for her granddaughter.”

Suzanne set her napkin down. “You certainly have a vivid imagination, Layla.”

Nathan remained quiet, his expression gradually hardening into a grim mask as the "busybody" energy at the table rose. Wendy leaned in, her eyes wide. “How much did she offer you? I heard she told you to name your price.”

“She did,” Suzanne answered casually.

The table erupted in hushed gasps. Wendy looked at Nathan’s darkening face and quickly tried to backtrack. “Well, it’s commendable that you weren't tempted by such vanity. Most would have folded.”

The atmosphere became increasingly awkward. Layla, seemingly determined to cause a rift, continued, “It doesn't matter what she was offered. Without Nathan’s approval, she’s tied to this marriage regardless. I certainly heard them discussing a separation last night.”

Suspicious glances were thrown Suzanne’s way. The silent accusation was clear: they assumed she was looking for a payout.

“Suzanne, is that true?” Florence asked, her voice trembling with concern.

“Nathan, don’t let a social climber dictate the terms of your life,” Layla added, looking smug. “She isn't worth the trouble.”

Suzanne’s appetite vanished. She opened her mouth to defend herself, but Nathan’s voice cut through the air like a whip.

“Layla!” he bellowed, the sheer power of his voice startling everyone at the table. “You have crossed a line that cannot be uncrossed. Eavesdropping on a private conversation between a man and his wife is beneath this family.”

The silence that followed was absolute. Even Duke didn't dare speak. But Layla, fueled by her own resentment, didn't back down. “I’m only saying what everyone else is thinking! Your marriage is nothing but a formal arrangement, Nathan. Everyone knows there’s no real intimacy there.”

Nathan’s face fell into a chilling, deathly calm. Suzanne sat stunned by the bluntness of the attack. The air in the room felt thick with tension, the collective history and prejudices of the Morrison family finally boiling over.

Duke tried to grab Layla’s hand, whispering frantically for her to apologize, but she shook him off, her chin held high.

Nathan didn't argue. He didn't shout. He simply took out his phone and dialed a number, his eyes fixed on a point far beyond the dining room.