Chapter 3 - The Breaking PointThe dining room chandelier cast a glittering, diamond-like brilliance over the table, illuminating the smug, satisfied expressions of my tormentors.
As I carried the heavy tray toward them, the room went quiet. Not a peaceful quiet, but an oppressive, expectant silence—the kind of silence a master demands of a pet.
I reached the mahogany table. With practiced care, I set a bowl down in front of Victoria first. Her eyes didn't even look at the food; they flickered down, spotting the corner of the black envelope peeking out from beneath the ceramic base.
A frown touched Victoria’s lips. "What is this?" she asked sharply, her aristocratic fingers hovering over the envelope.
I moved to Natalie next, setting her bowl down with a soft clack. She didn't notice the envelope at all; she was too busy tapping away furiously on her phone screen, scrolling through social media.
Finally, I stepped behind Dominic’s chair. I lowered his bowl, letting the heavy ceramic settle right over the third envelope.
Dominic didn't say thank you. He never did. Instead, he picked up his fork, twirled it casually into the rigatoni, and shoved a bite into his mouth.
"Finally," Dominic mumbled around a mouthful of pasta. "Took you long enough. Honestly, Audrey, if you can't even handle boiling water efficiently, I hate to think what you'd do if you actually had to work for a living."
"Eat your food, Dominic," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
Dominic froze.
Something in my tone—the absolute lack of tremor, the terrifying flatness of my delivery—made him pause. He slowly lowered his fork, turning his head to look up at me. His eyes narrowed, a flash of irritation crossing his handsome, cruel face.
"What did you just say to me?" Dominic growled, setting his fork down with a sharp clatter against the porcelain.
"I said, eat your food," I repeated, my gaze locking onto his with unwavering intensity. "Because it’s going to be the last decent meal you eat in this house."
Victoria slammed her wineglass down onto the table, red Merlot sloshing over the crystal rim like fresh blood. "How dare you speak to your husband in that tone! Dominic, put this ungrateful bitch in her place immediately! Clearly, a slap wasn't enough to teach her manners!"
Natalie finally looked up from her phone, her face twisting into an ugly snarl. "Get out of here, Audrey. You're ruining dinner. Go lock yourself in the pantry where you belong."
I didn't move an inch. Instead, I let out a low, quiet chuckle.
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It wasn't a scared sound. It wasn't submissive.
It was the sound of a trap snapping shut.
