"Mrs. Grayson's blindness is no small matter," I said, my voice dipped in sarcasm, "because only someone truly blind could believe you were more excellent than Daniel."
Before I could finish my thoughts, Luther shot out of his chair, his fists clenched and fury painted all over his face.
Murmurs rippled through the long table.
"Did he just say Daniel?!"
"How dare he mention that name here?!"
"Who the hell is this guy? Is he asking to die?"
Cyrus stood up with a frustrated curse. "Damn it! Does this bastard have a death wish? Get the hell out of this house!"
Luther said nothing—his anger boiled, simmering behind clenched teeth and a dangerous stare.
I saw my chance to push him further. “Then answer me, Luther,” I said, ignoring the i***t shouting at me. “Can you tell me exactly how Daniel died?”
Cyrus laughed mockingly. “I always knew you were a lowlife. But whatever happened to that useless man, Daniel, has nothing to do with you.”
He sneered, stepped forward, and waved a hand. “Look closer—this house has only one young master. Luther. That other one that died? He is a waste and deserved it.”
He turned to Luther with a smile like a dog awaiting praise. “He embarrassed this family. Begging isn’t enough. You should cut your own tongue, Nathaniel. Chop off the hand you used to slap my sister. Then kneel, and beg your brother-in-law for forgiveness. Maybe he’ll be merciful.”
He turned back to me, smirking. “Why’re you still standing there like a fool? Or do you want me to—”
He never finished.
A gasp escaped him.
His eyes dropped, finding my fingers—three of them—deep in his lower abdomen. Blood started to gush out.
“You... you...” he choked out, collapsing to the floor.
Gasps erupted. Women screamed. People leapt to their feet, horror written across every face.
Isabelle screamed, “Cyrus!” and rushed to his side.
The marble beneath him was awash with blood.
“Enough!” I shouted. My voice tore through the chaos like a blade.
Silence fell.
Reynold stepped beside me and calmly handed me a handkerchief. I took it, wiping Leonard’s blood from my fingers.
Isabelle screamed like a banshee. “Why did you kill him?! I’ll never forgive you!”
I didn’t flinch. “There are people you never insult. Your brother violated that rule. He got what he deserved.”
Luther, visibly shaking with fury, growled, “Who the hell are you really?!”
I sighed. “I hate repeating myself.”
Then louder, “So, I’ll ask again—how did Daniel Grayson die?”
Luther was about to respond, stepping forward with fire in his eyes when a stern voice echoed through the room:
"What is going on here? Who is causing such a fuss in this house?"
Every head turned.
I could hear someone whisper.
"The Grayson Matriarch had entered."
Luther’s anger was doused as he quickly moved to her side. “Welcome, Grandmother,” he said, and helped her to her seat.
Her gaze swept across the room. She noticed the blood, the corpse.
And she asked, her voice sharp and cold: “Who did this?”
The room fell into silence The matriarch Draped in layers of fine silk dyed deep emerald, with a fur stole resting upon her shoulders, she looked like a queen descending from an empire. Her grey hair was styled back elegantly, glinting beneath the chandelier’s light.
Her eyes landed on Luther, her supposed jewel. “Can you tell me about what is happening here?” she asked, her tone sharp, cold, regal.
Luther looked stunned, like a boy caught stealing. His lips parted, but no word escaped. He was silent. He couldn’t muster a single sentence.
Her gaze shifted to me. she looked cold. “You,” she said, voice rising. “Is all this your doing? And who the hell are you?”
I stepped forward, unbothered by her presence. “Yes,” I answered, steady and bold. “My name is Nathaniel.”
“Nathaniel…” she repeated, like the name burned her throat. Then her eyes narrowed. “Nathaniel Aldric…? The adopted son of House Caelum?”
I nodded once.
Gasps whispered like wind around the room.
“You disappeared for ten years without a word,” she said. “How dare you return only to cause mayhem in my Grayson house?”
Whispers exploded around us.
“He’s the Caelum bastard?”
“He’s just adopted, how audacious…”
“How dare he talk back to the matriarch like that?”
Their contempt dripped like venom. I heard every word. Let them talk.
The old woman raised her chin higher, her eyes blazing. “You’d better give me a reason, Nathaniel. A reason I shouldn’t wipe your entire house off the map for this outrage.”
Perfect.
I took a step closer, my voice rising like a sword drawn from its scabbard.
“Then let’s make it mutual, madam,” I said coldly. “Because if you can’t give me a reason for Daniel Grayson’s death, then the Grayson family will also have no reason to exist.”