Chapter 71

Nathaniel and Paisley’s departure brought David a fleeting sense of relief. But the reprieve was short-lived. He'd made a mess, and Nathaniel’s silence was a ticking time bomb. His best bet? Appease Paisley, hoping she'd soften Nathaniel. But Dominick, that was another beast entirely.

David approached Dominick, head bowed. He opened his mouth, then froze. Dominick’s dark expression and the suffocating tension in the air silenced him. “I’m done for,” he thought. Ms. Prescott, Mr. Vanderbilt’s partner, was injured. And Beaumont had just walked away. Who wouldn't be furious?

“Uh, Mr. Vanderbilt,” David stammered, “about Mr. Beaumont…”

Dominick’s icy glare cut him short. He turned to Grayson. “Still want to ride?”

Grayson shook his head. The joy had vanished. He thought of Marissa, still hurt.

“Then let’s go,” Dominick said curtly.

A choked voice called out. “Dad…”

Grayson remembered Marissa. Hesitantly, he said, “Dad, what about Marissa?” His feelings were a whirlwind. He'd always liked Marissa, but today… she’d lied, wronged Paisley.

“The Marissa I liked would never lie,” he thought. “But… this other woman…” Everything felt different. Yet, Marissa had always been kind. He couldn’t just leave her.

Dominick, meanwhile, replayed Paisley’s daughter clinging to Nathaniel, calling him “handsome,” and Paisley’s amused resignation. “Why,” he mused bitterly, “are you warm to everyone else, but cold to me? Why does your daughter hug everyone but see me as the bad guy?”

“Julian,” Dominick snapped, “take Marissa for a checkup.” He took Grayson’s hand and left, leaving the others exchanging uneasy glances.

Their presence hinged on Dominick’s connections. Without him, they’d be back on their own, less privileged grounds. What was the point of staying?

Their thoughts turned to Marissa. “Does Dominick care about her?” someone wondered. “If so, why leave her with an assistant?” Another voice countered, “But if he didn’t, why protect her all these years? She’s the only woman who’s stayed by his side.”

Marissa felt the judging stares. She gritted her teeth.

In the infirmary, Marissa underwent another examination. Her riding gear had protected her. A minor scrape on her forehead, some bruises – nothing serious. She looked far worse than she felt.

Alexis handed Marissa her brooch. “Marissa, here’s your brooch. I cleaned the blood off.” Alexis had seen everything. The tiny amount of blood on Marissa's forehead couldn't have stained the brooch. It was Olivia's blood.