The Family Table
The grand Reeve estate stretched far beyond what Elara had imagined. Under the darkening sky,the stone mansion stood proud- ornate yet cold, a reflection of it's occupants. The car ride had been long, but the silence between her and Killian was longer. They said nothing, both bracing themselves for what lay ahead.
The car rolled to a halt in the circular driveway, the front doors opened, revealing the Reeve household staff in perfect formation. An older butler bowed stiffly, motioning them in.
Inside, the mansion echoed with distant voices and the clink of polished silver. The Reeve family had gathered.
The dining hall was palatial, with a chandelier that glittered like a thousand watching eyes. At the long, lacquered table sat Mr Reeve,stonefaced as ever, flanked by his elegant wife,Mrs Reeve, who offered Elara a thin-lipped smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Welcome," she said politely,though her tone held ice.
Across the table were Killian's paternal grandparents,seated like royalty at the far end. Albert Reeve, tall and imposing even in age, peered at Elara with cold curiosity. His wife, Genevieve Reeve, adorned in pearls and fur, observed her with veiled judgment, her words few but heavy with meaning when spoken.
"Yes ma'am," Elara responded softly, keeping her posture straight. "Thank you."
Next to them sat Killian's uncle, Gregory, a senior executive in the company, and his wife Elise, who wore too much perfume and a permanent expression of distaste. Their daughter, Celeste, Killian's cousin, looked like a porcelain doll- flawless and calculating-clearly raised to maintain the family's pristine image.
Conversation sparked around Elara, but not to her. She wasn't included- only observed. Every gesture she made was scrutiny. Every smile. Every nod. Even her silence was dissected like strategy. Killian remained unreadable beside her, contributing only when spoken to.
"Have you two began planning for the future?" Gregory asked suddenly, voice low but clear.
Before Elara could respond, Mr Reeve cut in.
"They've already signed the contract," he said"That is their future."
The silence that followed was stifling.
Genevieve sipped her wine, her eyes never leaving Elara. "Let's hope the child comes before the year ends. These things are delicate when rushed."
Elara swallowed. The sting of humiliation crept up her spine, but she nodded with a composure that was becoming second nature. "We're aware of the timeline," she said simply.
She felt like a stranger performing on stage,each response measured, her dignity held together by thread. Still she didn't flinch.
After dinner, Mrs. Reeve gave them a tour- one more chance to show Elara the kind of life she had never belonged to.
The rooms were grand,the halls endless, and the family portraits that lined the walls reminded her that legacy mattered more than love in this house.
" We've arranged the guestrooms," Mrs. Reeve said. "You'll be staying in the east wing. Separately, of course."
That, Elara didn't argue with.
When she was finally alone in the gold-trimmed guest suite, she sank into the velvet chair by the window. Outside, the sky was bruised with night. She was tired- not just in her bones, but in her soul.
And somewhere down the hall,Killian was alone too.