Chương 134: Chapter 133 – Is It Too Late to Make Lemonade?

"Please enjoy, folks." Viola smiled, watching as the servers carefully placed a plate in front of each guest. Anita forced a smile in return, but her heart hammered against her ribs. The flaming desserts, while visually impressive, felt almost menacing. They were like miniature pyres, burning symbols of the evening's destruction. The clinking of silverware resumed, but it was strained, punctuated by awkward silences and quick, darting glances.

The warm, inviting atmosphere that had filled the hall at the beginning of the evening was now replaced with a cold, uncomfortable chill. Wentworth offered Anita a small, reassuring smile as the server placed a plate before her.

"Don't let it go to waste," he murmured, gesturing to the intricate dessert with a tilt of his head.

"The pastry chef is quite renowned." Anita nodded, picking up her fork and taking a small bite of the caramelized Razlepuff tart. It was indeed delicious, the flavors bursting on her tongue, but she could barely taste it. Her mind was consumed with the image of Jethro being dragged away by Mordak, and the lingering sense of dread that had settled in her stomach like a stone. Across the table, Viola was engaging in polite, if somewhat stiff, conversation with the guests around her.

But Anita could see the tension in her jaw, the forced brightness of her smile. Viola was a woman accustomed to order and control, and Jethro's behavior had clearly disrupted both. Anita knew Viola wouldn't easily forget the show Jethro had put on. Several guests made attempts to engage Anita in small talk, offering sympathetic murmurs about "the evening" or asking strained questions about her new house. But she struggled to respond, her mind racing with a whirlwind of what-ifs and what-nows.

She felt like she was performing a role, going through the motions of social interaction while her true self was trapped in a cage of anxiety and fear. The dessert course stretched on, each minute feeling like an hour. The clinking of forks, the murmured conversations, the occasional forced laughter… It all blended into a discordant symphony that grated on Anita's nerves.

She longed for the evening to be over, to escape the scrutiny and judgment of the other guests, to finally face whatever awaited her beyond the walls of this opulent prison. At last, the final crumbs were swept away, and the last cups of emberbrew were poured. Mordak and Jethro still had not returned. Viola stood, smiling politely at her guests, waiting for them to settle down.

"I would like to personally thank everyone for joining us on this…" she paused, raising her eyebrows before continuing.

"Which has turned out to be, one of the most memorable evenings in the history of business gatherings. Please feel free to make your way to the ballroom once you have finished your dessert. The band leader has given me the thumbs up that they are warmed up and ready to take requests." If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. A wave of polite murmurs and scraping chairs filled the hall as the guests began to file out.

Some offered brief, hesitant words of consolation to Anita, while others simply nodded and hurried past, eager to escape the lingering awkwardness. Wentworth approached her as she gathered her purse.

"May I escort you to the ballroom?" he trailed off, his gaze meeting hers. Anita managed a weak smile.

"Thank you, Franklin. That's… that's kind of you, but I think I will wait here for Jethro."

"Suit yourself." He replied curtly.

"But I wouldn't let Jethro's misbehavior ruin your evening," he said matter-of-factly before turning on his heel and leaving the room. The last of the guests finally found their way out of the dining hall, and Anita was left alone at the large table. She looked at the remnants of the lavish feast, wondering if she would ever dine like this again. The flickering candlelight cast long, distorted shadows across the room, making the opulent hall feel suddenly cold and empty.

She felt utterly drained, emotionally and physically. All she wanted to do was go home, but she knew that "home" would not be a haven, it would be a battleground when Jethro finally came back. How could he behave like that? she thought. Of all the nights for him to act like an immature child, he picks tonight. She sighed, staring at the flicker of the candle.

"He's right," she whispered.

"I am not going to let him ruin the rest of my evening." She glanced toward the Veranda, shaking her head. I hope he puts you in your place Jethro… someone has to, she thought. She stood up, smoothing her dress, and walked towards the main doors, glancing one last time toward the doorway leading to the Veranda. I have some ass kissing to do with Viola, if I ever want to rise up in the ranks, she thought, exiting the dining room and entering the main hall.

She could hear the melody of a waltz echoing off the walls the closer she got to the ballroom. She stopped, taking a deep breath, unsure of what to do next. How would this evening impact his career? Their social standing, not only with the Blackwoods but with the rest of the upper crust. She could feel her panic rising; she was more afraid than ever. Her mind was still racing with the thoughts of the events of the evening. What had Jethro done? She did her best to shake it off and hold her head high.

She did nothing wrong and cowering in shame was something she refused to do. To hell with Jethro! She thought as she plastered the sincerest smile she could muster. Just as she reached the doors, a pair of doormen, in suits and gloves opened the French doors wide for her to enter. She watched as husbands twirled their wives, who she had presumed made an event out of shopping just for this occasion. Certainly, one could not wear last years style to this year's event, she thought.

She did have to admit though; it was a breathtaking sight to behold. Satin, lace and taffeta all flowing with an elegant grace in a rainbow of colors and textures. She made her way through the couples mulling around small tables searching for Viola.