Everyone turned to look at Hela—Elijah's older sister, the only person in the family who dared to stand up to him.
Charles sat back slightly, watching with interest. So that's why she's here. To protect Adrian. Like always.
"Stay out of this, Hela," Elijah said coldly. "This is my family. My son."
"And he's my nephew," Hela shot back. "Which means I have every right to support him. Maybe you should try doing the same instead of treating him like a business asset."
"Mom," Hela said, turning to Eleanor, "tell Elijah to let Adrian make his own choice. Let him marry the woman he wants. You promised me this wouldn't happen again—that you wouldn't let Elijah control every aspect of his children's lives."
"I'm starting to doubt that," Elijah said, his voice like ice. "No son of mine would dare go against my word."
Helena's fork clattered against her plate. "Elijah, what are you saying?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but there was a tremor of desperation in it. "He is your son. Our son."
Elijah turned to her, his gaze withering.
"You. Keep quiet."
The command was absolute.
Fidelia watched as Helena's brief flash of courage crumbled instantly. Her eyes dropped to her lap, her hands trembling as she folded them together. She looked defeated and fragile
Andrian's hand clenched into a fist under the table, his knuckles going white.
Fidelia felt it, the tension radiating from him, the barely contained fury.
He was furious. She could see it in the rigid set of his shoulders, the tick in his jaw, the way his breathing had gone shallow.
But he said nothing.
Because speaking up would only make things worse for Helena. Elijah would punish her for Adrian's defiance.
So Adrian swallowed his rage and stayed silent for now.
"How dare you speak out of turn," Clarissa added, her voice dripping with disdain. "Know your place, Helena."
And that was it. Andrian's control shattered into pieces
'No one talks to my mother like that. Not in front of me.'
Andrian's hands slammed down on the table and the plates around him scattered around.
All eyes snapped to him.
Andrian was half out of his seat, ready to say something he'd probably regret, when he felt it a touch soft but firm. He looked and saw Fidelia's hand covering his clenched fist.
He took a deep breath still looking down at their hands, then up at her face.
She wasn't looking at him. She was looking straight ahead, her expression calm, composed. But her thumb brushed gently across his knuckles sending a silent message.
'I'm here. You're not alone. Just breathe and let it go'
And somehow, impossibly, the rage burning through him began to cool.
He took a breath and calmed himself down.
'How does she do that?' He thought
Andrian sat back down slowly, his voice deadly calm.
"With all due respect, stepmother," he said, emphasizing the word like an insult, "we are discussing my marriage. My mother has every right to be part of this conversation."
Clarissa opened her mouth to respond, but Adrian wasn't finished.
"You, on the other hand, have no right at all."
The room went deathly silent.
"Shut it Andrian!" Charles said sharply, his voice cutting through the tension.
He fixed his younger brother with a hard, warning look—the kind that said you're crossing a line.
But Andrian didn't flinch. This was the least he had in mind and he wasn't planning to back down.
'She attacked my mother first. So what are you complaining about?
"ENOUGH!"
Eleanor's voice echoed loudly that it shut everyone up.
Instant silence fell over the table. Even Elijah went still.
"We can't even have one family dinner without it descending into chaos," she said, her disappointment evident in every word.
Eleanor turned her sharp gaze to Andrian, studying him carefully.
"Andrian, it's your marriage. Your life. So I'm going to ask you directly, in front of everyone." She paused. "Is she the one you want to marry?"
Everyone looked at him waiting for his reply.
Andrian was quiet for a long moment. Then, deliberately, he lifted their joined hands and placed them on the table for everyone to see.
"Yes," he said clearly, looking his grandmother in the eye. "She is."
Fidelia's heart hammered in her chest.
It's not real, she reminded herself desperately. It's just an act.
But the way he was looking at her...
Eleanor sighed, and for just a moment, a small smile touched her lips—barely visible, but there.
"Then I approve," she said, her voice final and absolute.
The words settled over the table like a gavel.
Elijah's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. When Eleanor made a decision, even he couldn't overturn it.
The matriarch had spoken.
Then Eleanor turned her gaze to Fidelia, assessing her with those sharp, calculating eyes.
"Fidelia, I'll be honest with you. After that scandal, I had made up my mind that this marriage couldn't work."
Fidelia's back straightened up, but she held Eleanor's gaze steadily.
"But then you cleared your name," Eleanor continued. "More than that—you took a crisis and turned it into an opportunity. You showed strength, intelligence, and grace under pressure."
She paused, letting the words sink in.
"Perhaps you are exactly what this family needs. What my grandson needs."
Fidelia felt something tighten in her chest something uncomfortably close to hope.
"Thank you, ma'am," she said quietly. "I won't let you down."
Eleanor's lips curved slightly. "See that you don't."
"Well, it seems my mother and sister approve of your marriage. Then there's nothing I can do about it," Elijah said, his tone clipped and cold. "You both can proceed with it."
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "And I do hope with such a strong backing you'll be able to rely on your wife."
The threat in his words was clear to everyone.
If Andrian had chosen Bridget, he would've had the full power and resources of the Crawford family behind him. But Fidelia? Even her own family didn't stand with her. Could she back him up when it truly mattered?
Like during the board meeting.
Like when votes were cast to decide who would become the next chairman and inherit the chairwoman's shares.
Everyone in the room knew what Adrian was risking.
But Andrian had already made his decision and even if it wasn't a safe one, he was willing to take the chance. He believed he could build something real, something strong.
And with Fidelia,the woman who constantly surprised him, who challenged and intrigued him, he believed he could do it.
"There are always consequences for defying me, son." Elijah's voice cut through the silence. "And one of them is this: since I'm officially back in the company, I've decided to move up the board meeting. It'll now take place in two weeks."
"What?" Andrian turned sharply toward him. "You can't do that! My promotion vote was scheduled for next month."
"There are more important matters than your promotion," Elijah said flatly. "And I don't need to remind you,I'm the chairman. I can do whatever I want."
The chill in his tone made it clear this wasn't open for discussion.
Across the room, Charles, Damien, and Clarissa exchanged smug glances, clearly enjoying the show. The others looked uneasy but stayed silent.
They knew better than to challenge Elijah.
This, after all, was still a light punishment.
Elijah finally stood, his gaze shifting to Fidelia for the first time. His stare was sharp enough to cut glass.
"Fidelia Evelyn Crawford," he said slowly, emphasizing her middle name.
Fidelia's heart pounded hard again her chest that she felt a sharp pain
'Evelyn.'
That name..her father's voice echoed in her mind, a memory from years ago. It was the name her parents liked calling her.
"It's about time we talked," Elijah said, turning toward the door. "Alone."
He didn't wait for a response. He just walked away, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.
Fidelia could feel every pair of eyes on her—but her focus was fixed on Elijah's retreating figure, and the single thought that was passing through her mind:
'He knows something.'