Chapter 2 - The Price of Loyalty
The restaurant manager hurried toward Table 12, smoothing down the front of his formal black waistcoat. He looked noticeably tense, darting nervous glances between the formidable presence of Ethan Blackwood and the quiet dignity of Emma Carter.
"Is there a problem with the seating, Mr. Blackwood?" the manager asked quickly, bowing his head slightly in deference to the family whose name was etched onto the building's endowment plaque.
Ethan didn't turn to face the manager; his eyes remained locked onto Emma’s pale face. "Yes, there is a massive problem. Remove this woman and the child immediately. They are trespassing on a private family reservation."
"I am afraid that won't be possible, sir," the manager replied, his voice dropping into a careful, respectful tone.
Ethan finally turned his head, his dark eyebrows pulling together in disbelief. "What did you say?"
"Your father reserved it for them," the manager explained plainly, pointing a gloved hand toward the reserved marker. "Mr. Richard Blackwood personally called this morning to arrange Table 12. He specifically requested that Ms. Carter and her son be seated at his right hand."
The air around the table instantly turned rigid.
Victoria’s confident smile faltered for a fraction of a second, her red-lipped mouth opening slightly in surprise before she quickly masked it. Ethan stood frozen, the manager's words echoing in his mind like a heavy gong. His father—the patriarch of the Blackwood empire, a man who rarely interfered in personal affairs—had personally reserved the main family table for the woman Ethan believed had betrayed him seven years ago.
A dark, cynical suspicion flared inside Ethan’s chest. He reached into the inner pocket of his charcoal suit jacket, pulled out a sleek, matte-black heavy payment card, and tossed it sharply onto the center of the dark wood table. It landed with a loud, metallic clink right next to the Richard Blackwood place card.
"How much?" Ethan asked, his voice filled with cold, stinging contempt as he stared at Emma.
Emma blinked, staring at the black card sitting on the dark polished wood between them. "What?"
"How much did you cost my father?" Ethan sneered, taking half a step closer. "How much money did you bleed out of him seven years ago to leave, and how much did you demand tonight to pull a stunt like this? Name your price, Emma. I’ll double whatever my father promised you if you pick up your kid and walk out those mahogany doors right now."
Noah looked up nervously between the tall man in the suit and his mother, his small fingers tightening on his backpack strap.
Emma’s face went pale, but her eyes flashed with absolute disgust. She looked down at the matte-black card, then directly into Ethan’s cold eyes.
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"Keep your money, Ethan," Emma said, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper that carried more force than a shout. "I never wanted your family’s money seven years ago, and I certainly don't want it now."
"Then why are you here?" Ethan barked, his control slipping for a brief second. "Why show up tonight at my father's table?"
