Chapter 7 The Golden Host?

Chapter7 The Golden Host?

Returning to the apartment, thoughts began swirling. Seeing Amanda handle threats revealed her quiet strength.

Her composure, head held high, mixed grit with raw pain. Damn, watching her take hit after hit from her own family made something in my chest tighten. I wanted to step in front of her, tell them all to back off, but she kept fighting her own battles.

Hearing her voice tremble exposed their manipulation. Despite her father’s tactics, she stood firm.

The arrangement had evolved, stirring something unexpected. Witnessing their cruelty ignited anger—she deserved better.

Adjusting the tie, a cold gaze accompanied the light tone. "Well, well. Quite the family dynamic here. Using your sick father as leverage? Wonder what your fancy friends would think."

Richard's hand shook with anger. "You're nobody to judge how I handle my family affairs!" he snapped. "She has no say in Davis family matters!"

I noticed the subtle change in Amanda's expression as she watched us.

"Perhaps," Richard's voice turned calculating, "we can reach a reasonable arrangement."

"Reasonable?" Amanda's voice was bitter, and I felt a surge of protectiveness.

"A legal separation first." Richard set down his crystal with exaggerated care. "We'll proceed with the Wilson wedding as planned. Afterward, once the business arrangements are secure, you can quietly divorce."

Elizabeth stepped closer. "Your grandfather's care would continue uninterrupted, of course."

I tensed up when I heard their obvious manipulation. Amanda noticed right away - she was smarter than they thought. I could tell she was wondering if I was just good at reading the room or if there was something more to it.

"The legal waiting period," Amanda said carefully, "is about one month. You can't force a divorce faster than that."

Richard's jaw clenched, but he nodded. "One month then. But you'll announce the engagement to Wilson immediately."

The Davis mansion's grand portico offered us a moment of privacy, its marble columns standing sentinel against eavesdroppers. Amanda leaned against one, clearly exhausted.

"Are you really considering marrying Wilson?" I couldn't keep the concern from my voice.

"The legal waiting period gives me a month to secure my grandfather's care arrangements," Amanda straightened her spine, her reflex to reject help evident in her posture.

I couldn't suppress a slight smile at her determination. "Strategic alliances can be useful, and my grandmother is quite insistent on meeting my new wife next week."

Amanda studied me with new interest. "You want me to play the devoted wife for your grandmother?"

"A mutually beneficial arrangement," I held her gaze steadily, "unless you'd prefer Wilson's yacht party this weekend?"

Before she could respond, footsteps on marble announced Madison's arrival. Her demeanor changed completely when she saw me.

"Couldn't help but hear." Madison flashed that fake smile. "Family drama's such a drag, right?" She slid closer to me, acting like Amanda wasn't even there. "Maybe you'd prefer... something simpler."

I knew that look - exactly how Amanda said Madison went after Nathan.

"Here." She pulled out a business card. "My private number. For when you want to explore better options."

I accepted the card with polite grace, but deliberately moved my other hand to Amanda's elbow, drawing her closer. How laughable - Madison was still playing these childish games. The gesture wasn't lost on Madison, whose smile acquired a brittle edge.

"For when you'd like to explore better options," she said softly.

"Miss Davis," I replied, "not interested in being kept, thanks."

The carefully crafted smile froze on Madison's face. She recovered quickly, but the damage was done. Her retreat was markedly less graceful than her advance.

In the back of my Maybach, my grandmother's voice filled the car through the speakers.

"The board meeting could have waited," she said. "Why the sudden trip to Los Angeles?"

My lips curved slightly. "Can't your grandson visit the West Coast office occasionally?"

"Not when you've spent the last five years delegating everything west of Chicago to Christopher." There was a pause. "This wouldn't have anything to do with a woman, would it?"

"I met someone in LA," I admitted. "She's... different."

"Different enough to marry without telling your grandmother?"

My smile widened. "You'd like her."

"I'll decide that for myself." The steel in her voice softened slightly.

"Grandmother—"

"Three days, Ethan. It's time I met my granddaughter-in-law."

After ending the call, I gazed at the city beyond my window. Grandma always had this way of seeing straight through my bullshit. She stuck around through everything - the messy divorce, Mom jetting off to chase her artistic dreams across Europe, Dad burying himself in work. While my parents were off living their own lives, she was the one who actually raised me.

I was seven when Dad dropped his bombshell - showing up with a ready-made new family. Some woman and her four-year-old daughter, suddenly moved into our house. No heads up, no asking how I felt about it. Just Dad's typical "deal with it" attitude, expecting everything to fall perfectly into place.

Things with Dad deteriorated after that, each conversation becoming a power struggle. Stubbornness runs in our blood, making it impossible to find middle ground.

Grandma's declining health weighs heavily, despite consulting specialists across the country. Her unconditional support saw beyond the executive facade, recognizing the vulnerability hidden underneath.

My phone lights up with a message from Chris: [Grandma and her entourage are flying in on Thursday. Don't forget we're all meeting them at LAX.]

Perfect. Three days to figure out how to tell her that her golden boy grandson is now supposedly a high-end escort.