Bound to the Ruthless Billionaire Episode 7:
799 Words
Episode 7: The Storm at Dinner
By Rhemita Stories
The long stretch of the marble dining hall was silent—too silent. The faint sound of a clock ticking echoed through the space, counting down the seconds like a warning. Elena sat at the far end of the massive oak table, her posture stiff, her fingers tapping nervously against the edge of her plate.
She wasn’t used to the kind of silence that pressed against her chest like a weight. Not this kind. Not with him sitting directly across from her.
Adrian Knight.
He didn’t look up, not once. His jaw was sharp, tense, and his expression unreadable as he scrolled through his phone with one hand while slowly sipping red wine with the other. The dim chandelier light glowed against his perfect features, casting him in gold and shadow.
Elena swallowed hard. She wanted to say something—anything—but her courage had a way of shrinking whenever he was near.
Just then, the heavy double doors swung open.
A familiar, commanding voice filled the air.
“Well, well. So this is what you’ve been hiding, Adrian.”
Elena froze.
Adrian’s hand paused midair. He didn’t even turn around.
“Mother.”
Victoria Knight entered like she owned the mansion—and maybe she did, once. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she moved closer, her elegance radiating a kind of cold power that only came with old money and control. Her hair was sleek, her lipstick flawless, her eyes—icy and assessing.
“I see you finally decided to entertain guests again,” she said dryly, her gaze flicking toward Elena. “And by guests, I mean… charity.”
Elena’s breath hitched.
Adrian’s gaze finally lifted, and the room seemed to darken just a little. “You weren’t invited, Mother.”
Victoria’s smirk didn’t fade. “I didn’t need an invitation to visit my only son. Or meet the girl who’s now wearing my family’s name.”
Elena looked down at her hands, trying to steady her heartbeat.
Victoria walked around the table slowly, her eyes scanning Elena from head to toe like she was inspecting a flawed piece of art. “You look… ordinary.”
Adrian’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “That’s enough.”
But Victoria laughed softly. “Oh, darling, I was only being honest. You know this marriage isn’t real, don’t you?”
Elena’s head jerked up.
Victoria’s gaze softened mockingly. “Oh, don’t look so shocked, dear. You didn’t think my son married you out of love, did you? Men like Adrian don’t fall for little girls who still believe in fairy tales.”
Elena felt her throat tighten, but before she could respond, Adrian slammed his wine glass down. The sharp sound made everyone flinch.
“Leave her out of this,” he said through clenched teeth. “Whatever you have against me, say it to me.”
For the first time, Victoria’s expression faltered. A small, dangerous smile curved her lips. “I see. The ruthless billionaire has a soft spot after all.”
Adrian stood, every inch of him radiating dominance. “I said leave.”
Victoria’s smile froze, but she didn’t argue. “Fine. But remember this, Adrian—blood always tells. You can dress her up, put her in silk and diamonds, but she’ll never be one of us.”
The door shut behind her, the sound echoing like a thunderclap.
Elena sat frozen, her chest heaving, her fingers trembling slightly.
Adrian turned toward her, his expression unreadable. “Don’t listen to her.”
Elena met his gaze, anger flaring through her confusion. “Then why does it feel like she’s right?”
He froze.
Elena pushed her chair back and stood. “I didn’t ask for this marriage. You forced it. Your family despises me. You despise me. So stop pretending to defend me when you’re the reason I’m here suffering.”
Her voice cracked, but she didn’t look away.
For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—something raw and dark—but it vanished as quickly as it came.
“Go to your room, Elena,” he said quietly. “Before I lose what’s left of my patience.”
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “Gladly.”
She turned and walked out, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the hall until the mansion fell silent again.
Adrian stood alone, staring at the half-empty glass of wine. His jaw flexed, his breath uneven.
He had defended her—against his mother of all people. And yet… it shouldn’t have mattered. She shouldn’t have mattered.
So why did his chest feel so heavy?
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🌹 To Be Continued… 🌹
- Writer
