The room fell into a hush. The emcee, a slick man with a practiced smile, had already delivered flowery, empty speeches about “eternal unions.” Guests had raised their glasses mechanically. But now, the Queen Mother was speaking.
Eleanor smoothed her dress—a gunmetal grey silk that shimmered like armor—and fixed her cold smile on Anna. It was a smile that didn’t reach her eyes; it was merely a baring of teeth.
“Dear guests, friends, and esteemed business associates,” she began, her commanding voice cutting through the chatter without the need for shouting. “Today, we are gathered to celebrate the wedding of my beloved son, Leo. I am so… pleased… that he has finally found a partner to settle down with.”
The pause between “pleased” and the rest of the sentence was heavy with implication.
“Leo has always been a boy of such generous spirit,” Eleanor continued, walking slowly around the table, commanding the room’s attention. “He sees the best in everyone, even when… others might not see much at all.”
A few of her business associates chuckled softly. Anna felt a hot flush creep up her neck. Leo stiffened beside her, his hand gripping his napkin.
“Of course, as a loving mother,” Eleanor went on, her voice turning syrupy sweet, “I want my son to have only the very best. I have spent my life building a legacy, ensuring that he never has to struggle, never has to worry about the harsh realities of the world.” She paused, theatrically selecting her next words. “And so, his father and I have decided to give the newlyweds a very special wedding gift.”
She gestured to an assistant, who projected an image onto the large screen behind the stage. A collective gasp rippled through the room. It was a photograph of a stunning, ultra-modern luxury condominium in the heart of the city’s financial district. Floor-to-ceiling windows, marble floors, a view of the skyline. It was worth millions.
“A condominium in the Sky-High Towers,” Eleanor announced.
Applause broke out. It was loud, thunderous. Anna stared at the screen. She knew about the gift—Leo had mentioned his mother wanted to help them with housing—but she hadn’t realized it was this. It was too much. It felt like a golden cage.
Eleanor raised a manicured hand, demanding silence. The room obeyed instantly.
“However,” she continued, her voice dropping an octave, growing colder, sharper, like a blade sliding out of a sheath. “I want to make one very important point perfectly clear to everyone here, and to the legal counsel present.”
She turned her body so she was facing Anna directly. The mask of politeness fell away.
“This condominium is gifted strictly to my son, Leo Vance,” Eleanor declared, her words enunciating every syllable. “The deed is in his name alone. It is protected by a trust.”
She paused again, her eyes locking with Anna’s, ensuring the bride saw the malice burning there.
“…So that, as they say, this poor little country girl can’t get her greedy hands on any of it should she decide to leave once she realizes she doesn’t fit in.”
A dead, suffocating silence fell over the room.
The applause died as if it had been severed with a knife. The air was sucked out of the Sterling Room. Guests froze, champagne flutes halfway to their mouths. The insults hung in the air, crude and humiliating. It wasn’t just a legal stipulation; it was a public execution of Anna’s character.
Leo, sitting beside Anna, dropped his gaze to his plate. His face burned with a shade of crimson that matched the roses on the table. He looked like a child being scolded. He knew his mother could be cruel, but this? This was a massacre on his wedding day.
“Leo?” Anna whispered, her voice trembling. She looked at him, begging him to say something. To stand up. To be the husband he promised to be.
Leo said nothing. He stared at the tablecloth, trapped between his love for Anna and a lifetime of conditioning under Eleanor’s thumb.
Anna felt her heart constrict with a pain so sharp it took her breath away. It wasn’t the insult that hurt the most; it was the silence of the man next to her. She lifted her head and looked directly at her mother-in-law. There were no tears in her eyes, no hint of weakness—only a calm, quiet resolve. She would not give Eleanor the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
But the silence stretched on. It was thick, heavy, and agonizing.
Then, a sound broke the stillness.
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