I Was His Wife, Then His Widow, Then No One's But My Own novel Chapter 135

The moment the words left Finnegan's mouth, Alastair's face went completely dark.

He slammed his hand on the table so hard the teacups jumped, splashing hot tea everywhere. "Fred! What the hell are you saying! Shut your mouth!"

Leaning heavily on his cane, the old patriarch hurried forward. Standing before Silas Wade, the undisputed head of the Fletcher family dropped all his pride, bowing slightly with a tone bordering on subservience. "Please forgive my grandson's ignorance. He spoke out of turn. I hope Mr. Harrison won't take offense."

Silas's expression didn't waver. He simply gave a polite nod, his tone maintaining that perfect, unbothered equilibrium. "There's no need to apologize, sir. I came solely to pass on Mr. Harrison's gratitude to Ms. Newman. Now that the message has been delivered, I'll take my leave. I won't intrude on your dinner any further."

With a slight bow, he turned and walked out with his entourage.

Alastair scrambled after him for a few steps, insisting on walking him to the door, but Silas raised a hand without even turning around, signaling him to stop.

Alastair froze immediately, not daring to take another step. He stood at the edge of the hallway, watching as the figures disappeared into the foyer's lighting.

Once they were completely gone, the tension in the dining room became suffocating. No one dared to speak; people were even regulating their breathing.

Alastair turned around slowly, his icy gaze sweeping over everyone in the room.

His eyes lingered on Finnegan for a painfully long time. The old man's cloudy eyes burned with an explosive rage that he was barely managing to suppress.

When he finally looked at Nora, his gaze softened dramatically. "Nora, tell me. How exactly do you know Mr. Harrison?"

He knew the stakes perfectly well. This connection could dictate the entire future of the Fletcher family. If Xander Harrison was willing to invest in their current project, the family's status in Capital City would skyrocket.

She turned to leave. The eyes burning into her back were filled with venom, but no one dared to stop her.

"Wait," Alastair's voice barked out.

Nora paused and glanced back.

Alastair stood rigidly by his chair, his face a storm of fury—but his anger wasn't directed at her.

He slowly and menacingly scanned the room, finally locking his sights on Finnegan. His voice dropped to a glacial register. "Nora, you can't leave yet. Dinner might be over, but Fred just insulted our guests. He still needs to face his punishment."