Chapter 8 - The Aftermath of Dessert

The remainder of the gala passed in a surreal blur. The guests quickly adapted, swirling their champagne and returning to their conversations with the practiced indifference of people who lived in a world where scandals were just appetizers. But the dynamic had fundamentally shifted. People looked at me with a new kind of respect—or perhaps caution—while casting curious glances at Sophie, who sat happily beside me at the family table, nibbling on a strawberry tart with Mr. Paws propped up safely on the chair next to her.
By midnight, the ballroom had emptied out, leaving only the catering staff cleaning up the crystal and silver.
Arthur, Sophie, and I rode the private elevator up to the penthouse suite of the hotel, escaping the noise of the city below. The apartment was quiet, smelling faintly of cedarwood and expensive scotch.
As soon as the heavy oak door closed behind us, Sophie yawned, rubbing her eyes sleepily. The emotional rollercoaster of the evening had finally caught up with her.
"Come on, princess," I said softly, scooping her up into my arms. "Let's get you to bed."
I carried her down the familiar hallway to her bedroom, tucking her under the heavy down comforter. I placed Mr. Paws right beside her pillow, making sure the worn ear was tucked in safely. Within minutes, her breathing slowed, and she drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep.
I stood in the doorway for a long moment, watching her chest rise and fall. For the first time in six months, my home felt like a home again, stripped of the cold, clinical aesthetic Victoria had imposed upon it.
When I walked back into the study, my father was sitting behind his mahogany desk, pouring two glasses of amber scotch. He pushed one glass across the polished wood toward me as I walked in.
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"She's gone," I said, sinking into the leather armchair opposite him. "Her lawyer called five minutes ago demanding her designer bags and jewelry. She’s threatening a messy divorce."
"Let her threaten," Arthur said calmly, taking a slow sip of his drink. "My legal team will ensure she walks away with exactly what she brought into this marriage: nothing."