Boston Mother Cancels Twenty Two Million Dollar Wedding Gift After Morning Betrayal
“We must thank you for the lovely flowers you sent to our hotel, Beatrice,” she added, though her eyes remained cold as they swept over the dining room.
“They were white roses, if I recall,” I said, straightening my spine.
“They were beautiful,” Michael said, running his hand through his hair as he looked at his plate.
He was already nervous, his gaze shifting between his wife and the empty soup bowl in front of him.
Thomas took his seat opposite Victoria, his posture casual, almost dismissive, as he reached for the basket of sourdough bread.
“A bit chilly in here tonight, Beatrice,” Thomas said, offering a tight, thin smile.
“The old heaters on Beacon Hill require time to adjust to the winter,” I replied, touching my collarbone.
“The pipes in these old townhouses have a tendency to rattle when the temperature drops below freezing,” I added.
“Perhaps we should have had the dinner at the club instead,” Victoria said, her voice light but sharp.
“The dining room there is always perfectly climate-controlled,” she added.
“This house has been in my family for four generations, Victoria,” I said.
