Luther Has to Go
1049 Words
Dinner was quiet. Cressida expected to come home to her father cursing and bickering about how she’d disappeared from the family without a word, but he didn’t. She was welcomed with a feast, and arrangements for a welcome party at the company.
It was typical of her father to desire to flaunt the return of his heir. But what wasn’t was having Luther sitting across the table and dining with them like he was a son.
“How long has this been going on?” Cressida whispered to Dante.
He picked up his glass of wine and took a long sip before replying, “What?”
Cressida didn’t say a word, she tilted her head slightly to where Luther sat comfortably and ever so close to her father’s right hand.
Dante chuckled. “There’s a lot going on Big Sis,” he muttered, almost too low for her to hear him. “But Luther sitting with us like royalty is the very least of your problems.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She frowned.
“Cressida,” her father’s voice echoed in the room. “You know it’s a family law to reserve conversations for when dinner is over,” he reminded her.
She cleared her throat roughly and adjusted her feet under the table. “My apologies father. It’s been a while.”
“Yes indeed,” Luther chipped in softly. “The last I saw you, you were running away in your engagement dress,” he remarked, slicing a piece of chicken with his knife.
Cressida’s jaw tightened. She met his eyes, cold and silent, but refused to let the memory of that day rattle her. She said nothing. Partly because her father had stopped his meal to give her the look. The same look he gave her on her thirteenth birthday, when her brother had insisted on cutting her birthday cake with her. The same look he gave her when the board had proposed the marriage deal with Luther. It was a look that told her to drop it and be a bigger person.
But as she watched Luther drink his wine like he was a king in her home, her fingers curled into fists beneath the tablecloth.
“Dante,” Mr. Rivera spoke calmly. “I need you to pay a visit to a few investors tomorrow on your sister’s behalf. Some of them are still bitter about her little drama.”
Cressida scoffed, loud enough for her to be heard.
“Is there a problem?” her father asked, wiping his hands with a cloth napkin.
“Let me get this straight,” she began, her voice measured but sharp. “First was the grand convoy at the airport. Now, this feast that I don’t recall asking for, and then the next thing on your to-do list is having Dante do damage control so you start auctioning me off again?”
“I never said you were for sale,” her father replied.
“Then why the f**k is he here?” Cressida snapped, jabbing her fork at Luther.
“Language child!” Mr. Rivera thundered. “You are at my table. You will respect me.”
A cold silence settled over the room.
“Three years,” her father said, bitterness more evident in his voice than anger. “I waited three years for you to come back to your senses. But instead, you wandered off to another country and married a pathetic man you made me appoint our company lawyer. And that same man cheated you on, with someone who dares call herself my daughter.”
Cressida felt her father’s words like a blow to her chest. He knew everything. And now, so did Luther.
She glanced at him, and of course he had that smirk on his lips.
She had expected her father to be angry. She had even prepared for it. But she hadn’t expected to be ambushed at dinner. Not like this, and certainly not with Luther.
“I’ll be in my room,” she said curtly, rising from the table and leaving without waiting for permission.
Luther watched quietly as she left. Eyes dark with something unreadable. Seconds after, Dante followed her up the stairs.
He got to her room and found her holding a photo of their late mother. Her eyes were swollen and heavy with tears, but she wiped them away with the palm of her hand and sat defeated on the bed. Dante joined in besides, but he didn’t utter a word until she was ready.
“Do you remember when we misplaced that document in his office? Because we wanted to help him get the deal signed faster,” Cressida laughed through her tears. “He was pissed over the moon, but wouldn’t say a word because Mom kept shielding us behind her.”
“Then when Mom had gone to bed that night,” Dante said with a chuckle, picking up the memory. “He woke us up and made us rewrite the entire contract while he dictated it to us.”
They both laughed softly.
“I know I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have run. But it feels like ever since she died, he doesn’t even recognize that we’re his children. Just business associates living under his roof.”
Dante chuckled. “It’s not something you did,” he said softly. “Ever since you left, some of Father’s associates have been undermining his authority. He needs you because no one plays the game of power like you do.”
Cressida looked up at him. “And Luther?”
“Oh please. Father hates him.”
Cressida laughed softly. “He does?”
“Listen to me, Dad wanted you back so he could name his heir. It’s not going to be easy, especially since you left the company. But if you want to earn his trust and respect back, then you had better pack one hell of a punch.”
Cressida sniffled and wiped a tear from her cheek. Dante stood from the bed and faced her, hands crossed above his chest.
“I guess my revenge plan can wait,” she began, rising to her feet with new resolve. “But Luther… he has to go.”
- Writer
