Chapter 253: Calder Hudson

Savannah When Reginald pushed his chair back and stood, I was ready for the axe to fall. I felt it in my bones—that familiar tightening in my chest that came whenever power decided to remind you exactly where you stood beneath it. I expected him to announce that my decision was irrelevant, that my stubborn defiance had merely entertained him, that my time here was over. I expected a dismissal. Punishment. Retaliation. Instead, he simply stood. Very slowly. The scrape of wood against marble echoed far louder than it should have in the vast dining hall. Every movement he made felt calculated, choreographed, as though he knew every pair of eyes—mine included—was trained on him. And he loved it. He reached for his cane and Cassandra rose beside him at once, smooth and silent, like she’d rehearsed it a thousand times. And I noticed, unlike the first time I met her. She rarely spoke. She'd never said a word all night. Then Reginald spoke, dragging me out of my thoughts. “Good choice, Miss Ha