Chapter 3
1235 Words
The Breakfast Table Blade
Benita Hayes
I didn't sleep. Not really.
Every time the ancient oak trees outside the window groaned in the wind, I jerked awake, my eyes darting to the silhouette of the man sleeping on the other side of the king-sized bed. Adrian hadn’t crossed the invisible line we’d drawn in the sheets, but his presence was a heavy, magnetic force that made rest impossible.
At 6:00 AM sharp, the silent vibration of his phone woke him. He was out of bed and in the shower before I could even find my voice.
Now, standing before the vanity mirror, I applied an extra layer of concealer under my eyes. I needed to look like a woman who had spent a blissful night with her new husband, not a prisoner who had been counting the ticks of a grandfather clock. I chose a tailored dress in a shade of forest green—a color that felt like a shield.
"Ready?"
Adrian stood by the door. He looked impeccable in a charcoal three-piece suit, his dark hair dampened from the shower. He looked like a man who hadn't just sold his soul; he looked like the man who owned the bank where souls were kept.
"As ready as I’ll ever be to face a firing squad," I muttered, smoothing my skirt.
"Good. Because my father doesn’t eat breakfast; he conducts interrogations."
We descended the stairs in a silence that was almost deafening. The dining room was a sprawling hall of white linen and heavy silver. Alexander Knight sat at the head of the table, the morning paper folded beside his plate with surgical precision. Victoria sat to his right, her expression as cold as the chilled grapefruit in front of her.
But it was the third person at the table that made my heart stop.
"Vanessa?" The name felt like a piece of lead in my mouth.
My stepsister was sitting directly across from my empty chair. She was dressed in a silk slip-dress that was entirely too revealing for 7:00 AM, her blonde hair perfectly curled. She offered me a smile that didn't reach her predatory eyes.
"Good morning, Benny," Vanessa chirped, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Alexander was kind enough to suggest I stay here for a few days. Since the Hayes house is so... quiet now that the auditors are crawling through the walls."
I felt the blood drain from my face. I looked at Alexander, who finally looked up from his coffee.
"A family in crisis should stay together, Benita," Alexander said, his voice a low, commanding rumble. "Vanessa was quite distressed. I thought it best she stay here under our protection."
I felt Adrian’s hand slide onto the small of my back. His touch was firm, a silent command to stay steady. "How thoughtful, Father," Adrian said, his voice laced with a sarcasm so subtle only I seemed to hear it. "I’m sure Benita will appreciate having someone to help her... settle in."
"I’m sure I will," I said, forcing a smile as I sat down.
Vanessa leaned forward, her eyes darting between me and Adrian. "So, how was the first night? Adrian, I hope my sister wasn't too... awkward. She’s always been a bit of a late bloomer when it comes to, well, everything."
The insult was thinly veiled, a sharp jab at my self-esteem.
"Benita was exactly what I expected," Adrian said, his fingers grazing my shoulder as he reached for the cream. "Refreshing. Intelligent. And far more interesting than the women I usually encounter in this circle."
Vanessa’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. She turned her attention back to her plate, but I saw the way her grip tightened on her silver fork.
"Speaking of intelligence," Victoria interjected, her voice like a velvet glove over a steel fist. "I assume you've realized that your 'position' at the office is merely ceremonial, Benita. A Knight wife does not spend her days staring at ledgers."
"I’m not a decoration, Victoria," I said, my voice firmer than I felt. I looked directly at Alexander. "The contract stated I would handle the integration audits. I’ve already found three discrepancies in the logistics transition that could save the firm six figures in the first month."
The table went silent. Alexander paused, his coffee cup halfway to his lips. He looked at me, really looked at me, for the first time.
"Six figures?" Alexander asked.
"Six," I confirmed. "If you’re willing to listen to the 'guest' you’ve invited into your home."
Adrian leaned back, a small, dark spark of pride—or perhaps amusement—flickering in his eyes. "She’s right. I’ve reviewed the notes she made this morning. She’s already outperformed my head of operations."
"We shall see," Alexander muttered, though I saw the way his eyes narrowed. He didn't like that I was useful. It made me harder to control.
Adrian Knight
I watched the color return to Benita’s cheeks. She was a fighter. A quiet one, but a fighter nonetheless. She had just insulted my father's operations team and held her own against Vanessa’s venom all before finishing her first cup of tea.
But my father’s move with Vanessa was dangerous. He wasn't just bringing her here for "protection." He was planting a spy. Vanessa Hayes was vain, easily manipulated, and clearly harbored a resentment for Benita that bordered on pathological.
He’s looking for the lie, I thought. He wants to see if we’re actually sleeping together, if we’re actually talking.
"Vanessa," I said, my voice catching her attention. She immediately perked up, fluttering her lashes at me. "I’ve arranged for a driver to take you to the city today. I’m sure you have shopping to do. Benita and I will be at the office until late."
"Oh, but Alexander said I could shadow the marketing team!" Vanessa pouted. "I’ve always wanted to see how the Knight brand is managed."
"The Knight brand is managed by professionals, not houseguests," I said, my tone sharpening into a blade. "Enjoy your shopping, Vanessa."
I stood up, signaling the end of the meal. I offered my hand to Benita. She took it, her fingers small and warm in mine. As we walked out of the dining room, I leaned down, my breath ghosting against her ear.
"You did well," I whispered. "But the 'six figures' comment made you a target for my father's ego. Watch your back today."
"I’ve been watching my back my whole life, Adrian," she whispered back, her eyes meeting mine with a fierce, unexpected intensity. "I’m getting quite good at it."
We walked toward the car, the "Cold Hearts" united by a common enemy. But as the door closed and we were once again alone in the backseat, I realized the biggest threat wasn't my father or Vanessa.
It was the way my heart hammered against my ribs every time her hand accidentally brushed mine.
- Writer
