floor-to-ceiling windows of the dining ro

head hung low. Her fingers nervously picked at the linen nap

ht of the head chair. She held a bone china cof

e hallway. Cornelius, the patriarch of the Mcconnell fam

ntly. No one breathed until Corneliu

picked up his solid silver butter knife and slammed i

manded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Why is

pointing a manicured finger at Arletta. "She has no idea how to behave. Kyler

silver fork off the table. It hit her bone china plate w

er caught in headlights. Tears instantly spilled o

red, her voice thick with tears. "He fell on me in the

exual assault into a threat of physical violence, playing the part o

actly what kind of degenerate Kyler was. Arletta

was drunk and walked into

the wrong room, and he was so intoxicated his legs gave ou

rds came out. She ground her tee

e to Arletta. He stared at her, t

im, her eyes swimming with pure, unadulterated

what she appeared to be: a harmless, pathetic shie

or three months," Cornelius announced to the ro

her napkin. She looked like she wanted to murder

ssign two personal maids to Arletta. They w

tta knew it was Cornelius officially

letta's chair, she leaned down. "You're going

r chair, trembling until th

She picked up her napkin and elegantly dabbed th

Cornelius cared about ord

ap shirt, and walked toward the st

standing in the shadows of the second-floor land