Chapter 6 - Beatrice Reaches for the Screen
Beatrice moved suddenly.
Fast enough that several trustees gasped.
She lunged toward the wall-mounted security screen, one hand extended as if she could erase the frozen image by touching it.
Adrian stepped into her path.
He did not grab her.
He did not strike her.
He only blocked her with the solid force of a man who had finally chosen a side.
Beatrice recoiled from him as if his refusal had burned.
“That recording belongs to this house.”
Claire’s voice came from behind Adrian.
“So do I.”
The room froze.
For years, Beatrice had treated Claire like a temporary occupant in a dynasty she did not deserve.
A guest in her own marriage.
A vessel under inspection.
A name to tolerate until the correct heir arrived.
Now Claire stood under chandelier light in her cream maternity dress, throat still raw, eyes burning, phone in one hand and injector in the other.
She looked breakable.
She was not.
Beatrice pointed at her, finger shaking inches from the air.
“You think a hidden camera gives you power?”
Claire’s gaze moved to the trustees.
“No. It gives them a choice.”
That frightened them.
Choice meant responsibility.
No more passive witnessing.
No more pretending family dinners were private when a pregnant woman gasped for breath and a matriarch smiled too close to her ear.
A trustee pushed his chair back.
Another followed.
Not leaving.
Standing.
Beatrice looked around, horrified.
“Sit down.”
No one sat.
Adrian’s face hardened further.
He turned slightly to Claire.
“Do you need a doctor?”
She nodded faintly.
“Yes.”
The answer shattered the last illusion of theater.
This was not drama for inheritance.
This was medical danger.
Beatrice’s fear sharpened.
The screen glowed behind Adrian’s shoulder.
Still paused.
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Still waiting.
Read Chapter 7 👉 Because the trustees finally stood, and Beatrice realized her command no longer controlled the room.
