Chapter 187: Dinner with family
Lucia Fitzgeralt had the posture of someone who judged people for a living and won every time. She sat like the room belonged to her, dressed in slate-gray silk and garnet earrings that could have doubled as murder weapons. Her eyes, pale and unblinking, tracked Lucas and Trevor as they approached the table.
"Mother," Trevor said coolly as they reached their seats.
"Trevor." Lucia inclined her head just slightly. "You didn’t mention he was so... decorative."
Lucas smiled with surgical precision. "I’m also punctual, literate, and resistant to subtle cruelty. But thank you for the compliment."
Cressida sipped her wine without blinking. Serathine’s lips twitched.
From the left, a chair scraped as Milo collapsed into it, draped in unbuttoned elegance and the scent of clove cigarettes he wasn’t technically allowed to smoke indoors. "Gods, he talks like he knows what a spine is. Refreshing."
"And dangerous," Alaric murmured from beside Lucia. He looked effortlessly bored in a dove-gray jacket, one hand idly sketching something in the margin of his napkin with an antique ink pen. "He’s not even pretending to defer."
Lucas tilted his head slightly, eyes glinting like glass under tension. "Should I?"
Alaric looked up from his napkin, pale eyes narrowing just a fraction. "Not to me. But most people do. It’s charming when they try."
Lucas reached for his water, unbothered. "I’ve been charming before. I retired."
Milo gave a low whistle, dragging his chair closer with a deliberate scrape. "Trevor, darling, I like him. I thought you were marrying some trembling thing in cream and lace, but this one’s sharp. You never said he had teeth."
"I didn’t think you’d show up," Trevor replied, tone light but laced with steel. "So I didn’t see the point."