Chapter 7
930 Words
Family Dinner
Theme: Smiles can be sharper than knives.
The Cole residence was a masterclass in understated opulence. White marble floors gleamed under the soft golden light from a crystal chandelier. The dining room table, a ten-seater carved from dark oak, was already set—fine china, silver cutlery, and tall wine glasses that caught the light like liquid diamonds.
It was a Sunday evening tradition: family dinner. On paper, it was meant to be a time of bonding. In reality, it was an arena—sometimes for subtle power plays, sometimes for open declarations of dominance.
Adanna arrived fashionably late, as always, her silk emerald dress swaying with each step. She had changed out of her corporate armor into something softer, but no less commanding. Her makeup was immaculate, her smile perfectly balanced between warmth and reserve.
David was already seated at the head of the table, scrolling through his phone. Across from him sat Anita, her “best friend” of fifteen years—dressed in a fitted peach gown that, in Adanna’s opinion, was a little too intimate for a family dinner. Anita’s smile was sugary, her eyes sharp.
“Adanna!” Anita said with faux delight, rising halfway as if to embrace her. “We were just talking about you.”
“Oh?” Adanna’s brow lifted slightly as she took her seat beside David. “I hope it was flattering.”
“Of course,” Anita replied, her voice dripping with insincerity. “David was just telling me about your big merger. You never stop impressing.”
David finally looked up from his phone, his expression neutral. “Yes, impressive indeed. Though I wonder if you’re pushing yourself too hard. You’ve been looking… tired lately.”
Adanna smiled thinly. “Work has a way of demanding energy. But I’m fine.”
The air between them was laced with an unspoken challenge.
The maid, Kemi, entered with a tray of steaming jollof rice, grilled fish, and plantains. She served David first, then Anita, and finally Adanna.
As plates were passed around, Anita reached for the salad bowl, her manicured fingers brushing David’s as she handed it to him. The contact was brief, but Adanna caught it. She didn’t flinch—didn’t even blink—but her gaze lingered just long enough to register the movement.
“So,” Anita said lightly, “how’s Zara? I haven’t seen her in weeks.”
“She’s well,” Adanna replied, cutting into her fish. “Busy with her art classes. She’s growing into quite the young woman.”
David chuckled. “Yes, but she’s inherited your stubborn streak.”
Anita laughed too, almost too quickly. “And your beauty. She’ll break hearts one day.”
Adanna’s fork paused mid-air. “I prefer she breaks glass ceilings, not hearts.”
The conversation moved on, but Adanna’s mind was busy cataloguing every shared glance between David and Anita. The way Anita leaned ever so slightly toward him when he spoke. The way David’s lips curved in a smirk when she made a joke.
Midway through the meal, David poured glasses of wine for everyone. Adanna noticed how Anita’s glass was filled first, hers second. It was a small detail, but small details mattered.
“To new beginnings,” David said, raising his glass.
“To lasting friendships,” Anita added, her eyes locking briefly with his.
Adanna smiled faintly, clinking her glass against theirs. “To truth. May it always find its way to the surface.”
Anita’s smile wavered for the briefest moment before returning in full force.
Kemi returned with dessert—coconut pudding. Adanna wasn’t particularly hungry, but she took a small portion. She had noticed, over the last few weeks, that the bitter aftertaste she sometimes experienced came most often after meals at home. Tonight, she decided to pay closer attention.
As she took a spoonful, she subtly observed David and Anita. Their spoons moved in perfect rhythm, their conversation slipping into casual laughter that excluded her entirely.
She placed her spoon down. “Anita, tell me—how’s your catering business? I heard you recently got a contract with one of the luxury hotels.”
Anita preened. “Yes, it’s been going wonderfully. David actually connected me with the hotel manager. Such a blessing.”
Adanna’s eyes shifted to her husband. “Is that so?”
David shrugged, feigning innocence. “She needed a foot in the door. I had the contact, so I helped. Nothing more.”
“Of course,” Adanna said, her tone unreadable. “You’ve always been generous… with certain people.”
By the end of dinner, the air was thick with unspoken words. Anita excused herself first, pressing a kiss to Adanna’s cheek that lingered just a second too long to be sincere.
“Take care of yourself, Adanna,” she said sweetly. “We need you healthy and strong.”
Adanna’s lips curved in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be around for a very long time.”
When the door closed behind Anita, David turned to her. “You’ve been quiet tonight.”
“Just listening,” she replied, rising from her seat. “One hears a lot when one stays silent.”
He frowned slightly, but she was already walking toward the staircase.
In her bedroom, she sat before her vanity, removing her earrings with deliberate slowness. She caught her own reflection in the mirror—poised, beautiful, unbroken.
They thought she was weak. They thought she was slipping.
They were wrong.
- Writer
