Adrian Shaw stood up, his tall and relaxed figure cast a cold shadow under the crystal lamp.
Quentin Shaw sat down in the armchair, gently covering Beatrice Bishop's hand with his palm and soothingly patted it.
Beatrice Bishop felt more at ease, looked at her son, and raised her hand as a gesture: "We're family, so there's no need for formalities, have a seat."
"Thank you, Mom," Adrian's voice was steady and unwavering, "I'm fine standing."
Beatrice Bishop furrowed her brows and withdrew her hand.
Quentin Shaw noticed his wife's unease, soothingly stroked Beatrice Bishop's hand, examined his son for a moment, and said in a deep voice: "You caused such a commotion, all for the Grant family child."
"Dad," Adrian said, "Her last name is Stanton, she's not part of the Grant family."
The words were nearly confrontational, but Quentin Shaw was not angry, only calmly said: "Serena Stanton."
Adrian chuckled and met his father's gaze: "She's my wife now."
