Chapter 6 - The Dinner of Wolves
Saturday morning arrived with a clear, brilliant blue sky over the Newport coastline, the morning sun sparkling across the cold Atlantic waters like scattered diamonds.
By eleven-thirty, the grand dining room of the Mercer mansion was prepared for the official pre-wedding family luncheon.
A thirty-foot mahogany table was set with heirloom porcelain, silver candelabras, and crystal flutes of vintage champagne. White floral arrangements of orchids and lilies—ordered by Brooke to replace Catherine Mercer’s favorite hydrangeas—filled the room with a heavy, suffocating perfume.
Thirty high-society guests, including city council members, maritime executives, and prominent members of the Harrington social circle, mingled in the grand hall, sipping wine and laughing in rehearsed, muted cadences.
Julian Harrington stood near the fireplace in a bespoke navy three-piece suit, holding court with two commercial bankers, boasting about the upcoming marina development project.
Brooke sat at the head of the long table, dressed in an exquisite white designer dress, her diamond earrings catching the chandelier light, radiating the untouchable authority of a queen about to claim her throne.
At the far end of the table, isolated from the rest of the guests, sat Natalie and little Noah.
Natalie wore a modest dark dress, her hands resting quietly in her lap, enduring the condescending smirks and whispered insults of Brooke’s socialite friends with quiet, dignified grace. Noah sat close to his mother, clutching her hand, staring down at his empty plate.
Brooke tapped her crystal champagne glass with a silver fork.
The sharp chime echoed through the vast hall, silencing the conversations.
"Thank you all for joining us on this magnificent afternoon," Brooke announced, her voice carrying smoothly over the room with polished elegance. "As you know, Dominic was called away to London on urgent fleet matters, but he has granted me full authority to host this gathering on behalf of our combined families."
She turned her gaze toward the end of the table, her smile turning cold and patronizing.
"Before we raise our glasses to tomorrow's ceremony, there is an important family restructuring to announce. In the interest of modernizing the Mercer estate and securing the financial future of the next generation, the Mercer Family Foundation has executed a complete consolidation of the eastern property parcel."
Julian stepped forward, opening his leather briefcase and pulling out the three stamped probate folios.
"The east cottage," Julian declared, addressing the room with puffed-up authority, "will be demolished next month to make way for the new Catherine Mercer Memorial Marina—a fifty-million-dollar commercial initiative that will bring hundreds of jobs to Newport."
Natalie stood up slowly from her chair, her face pale, her hands trembling with outrage. "That land was left in trust for my son! You have no legal right to destroy my mother's home!"
Brooke’s laugh was sharp, public, and utterly merciless.
"Your mother is gone, Natalie," Brooke said, her voice ringing out for every guest to hear clearly. "And under the legal proxy agreements executed this morning by Harrison Cole, your residency on this estate is officially terminated. You and Noah have until five o'clock this evening to vacate the property."
A collective, shocked murmur rippled through the guests. Several socialites looked away in embarrassment, but none dared to challenge the future mistress of the Mercer fortune.
Noah began to cry softly, burying his face into Natalie's waist.
"You are a monster, Brooke," Natalie choked out, tears spilling down her cheeks. "My brother will never forgive you for this."
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"Your brother isn't here, Natalie," Brooke sneered, raising her glass into the golden light. "I am in charge now."
Then, from the grand double mahogany doors of the dining hall, a sound broke through the room that made every crystal glass on the table vibrate.
