Chapter 7 The dinner he didn't expect
747 Words
Anna stared at the glittering gown on the bed, its crimson silk catching the light like a pool of blood.
She didn’t want to wear it. She didn’t want to go.
But when David Scott summoned her, there were no options. Only obedience.
“You have ten minutes,” his deep voice had said over the intercom, clipped and commanding.
Ten minutes to become a woman she didn’t recognize.
Anna exhaled shakily as she slipped into the gown, its smooth fabric whispering against her skin like temptation and warning rolled into one. The neckline dipped lower than she liked, and the slit up her leg made her feel bare, exposed. Vulnerable.
The thought of walking into a room full of David’s powerful friends—men and women who lived in a world she didn’t belong to—made her stomach twist. But she told herself what she always did: Do it for Dad. Keep your head down. Could you not care about him?
When she stepped out, David was waiting by the sleek black car, a dark god in a tailored suit that looked poured onto his frame. His gray eyes swept over her once, slow and unreadable.
“Better,” he murmured, opening the door for her. “Try not to look like you’re walking to your execution.”
Her spine stiffened. “Maybe if you didn’t drag me to things I don’t want to attend, I wouldn’t.”
He smiled faintly, the kind of smile that wasn’t amusement but warning. “Careful, Anna. People who talk back to me usually regret it.”
The ride was silent except for the hum of the engine and the thundering of her pulse.
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The restaurant was the kind of place that reeked of wealth—crystal chandeliers, white tablecloths, soft jazz curling through the air like smoke. Heads turned when David entered, and Anna felt every pair of eyes like a physical touch.
She sat stiffly beside him at the long mahogany table, surrounded by men in suits and women draped in jewels. Laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, but to Anna, it was suffocating.
“David,” a man across the table drawled, his smile sharp. “You didn’t tell us your fiancée was such a beauty.”
Anna forced a polite smile, murmuring thanks, but the heat of his gaze made her skin crawl.
“And brave too,” a woman chimed in, her tone dripping honeyed poison. “Marrying into the Scott family isn’t for the faint of heart. Some might say… opportunistic.”
The table tittered with laughter. Anna’s throat tightened. Her fingers curled around her napkin, nails biting into fabric.
Before she could speak, David’s voice cut through the room like ice.
“Say that again.”
The laughter died instantly. The woman blinked, color draining from her face. “I—I only meant—”
“Careful what you mean.” His tone was soft, almost gentle, but the steel beneath it made Anna shiver. “Because the next time someone implies my wife is anything less than perfection, they’ll learn what I do to people who insult me.”
Silence. Cold and heavy.
Anna’s heart slammed against her ribs. Not because of the threat—but because of the way he said my wife, like a vow carved in stone.
The rest of the dinner passed in tense quiet. Anna barely tasted the food. She couldn’t stop replaying that moment in her head—the possessiveness in his voice, the way he looked at her like he owned her, body and soul.
She should have hated it. Should have been furious. But all she felt was a strange, dangerous heat curling low in her stomach.
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The car ride home was silent until David spoke, his voice smooth, curling like smoke.
“You handled yourself well.”
She stared out the window, refusing to meet his gaze. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You didn’t need to.” His voice dropped, slow and deliberate. “I told you before, Anna… if you’re going to be my wife, you need to get used to being the most envied woman in the room.”
Her breath caught. Something inside her shifted, sharp and unsettling.
Because when he said my wife this time, it didn’t sound like an arrangement. It sounded like a claim.
And for the first time, Anna didn’t know if she wanted to run… or lean in.
- Writer
