~Alistair's POV~
The blood drained from my face. "What?"
The maid flinched at the sharpness of my voice, her eyes darting toward the hallway in fear. I took a deep breath, forcing my heart to stop its frantic hammering, and regained my composure. "You can go," I said, my voice now a cold, steady clip. "Tell them I will be downstairs shortly."
Once the door clicked shut, I didn't waste a second. I dressed with precision, choosing a sharp, dark outfit that made me look every bit the powerful husband I was. I checked my reflection once, my face was an unreadable mask, and then I headed down.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, the clinking of silverware echoed from the dining room. Alex's father sat at the head of the table, focused on his meal, while his wife sat beside him, playing the part of the devoted hostess. He was the first to spot me.
"Alistair! Son, come here," he called out, his voice booming with genuine warmth. "Join us."
