Free Web NovelChapter 257: Chapter Two Hundred And Fifty Six
Allen quickly put his wine glass down on the table. He bowed his head respectfully to the General, but he also felt a sudden, cold spike of nervous tension. He remembered very clearly how Damon’s large hands had crushed his throat just a few days ago.
Damon walked slowly toward the center of the room. He did not look at Allen. His dark brown eyes were fixed entirely on Camilla.
"Damon?" Camilla said out loud. Her voice was soft and carried a clear tone of genuine confusion. "What are you doing here?"
Damon stopped a few feet away from her. He looked at her face. The cold, blank mask of yesterday was gone. Her cheeks were slightly pink from the joy of a successful business day.
Damon swallowed hard. His throat felt dry. He felt nervous. His palms were actually sweating inside his dark gloves.
He slowly held out the large bouquet of red roses and the white pastry box toward her.
"I..." Damon started to speak. His deep voice sounded very soft, hesitant, and highly nervous. He cleared his throat quietly. "I came to congratulate you on your grand opening success."
Camilla looked at the beautiful red flowers. She looked at the expensive white box.
"I was delayed in the military camp today," Damon continued softly, explaining his late arrival. He looked directly into her eyes. "I had to handle some urgent matters. I had to rush down here this evening. I apologize for missing the opening."
Camilla stared at him. She was surprised. He had actually bought her gifts. He had remembered her big day. After the terrible, cold silence of the previous night, this gentle gesture was really unexpected.
She slowly reached out her small hands.
She took the bouquet of red roses and the white pastry box from his large hands. The sweet smell of the fresh flowers filled the space between them.
"Thank you, my lord," Camilla replied softly. Her voice was calm, but a tiny, genuine hint of appreciation touched her tone.
She turned around. She walked over to the display table. She dropped the white pastry box carefully onto the clean wood next to Allen’s wine bottle.
"I will go and find some water to keep the flowers fresh," Camilla said to the room.
She walked away, heading toward the small back room of the store to find an empty vase or a clean bucket for the red roses.
As soon as Camilla disappeared into the back room, the atmosphere in the main store changed instantly.
The soft, polite tension vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp, and very dangerous hostility.
Damon stood near the table. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest. His dark eyes turned cold and flat.
Allen stood on the other side of the table.
Usually, Allen was a very polite, non-confrontational gentleman. He never caused trouble. But today, he had just sold out an entire store of expensive fabrics. He felt successful. He felt proud. And most importantly, he still remembered the terrifying, painful feeling of Damon’s hand choking the life out of him.
Allen wanted a tiny bit of revenge.
Allen took a slow step forward. He looked at Damon. A small, polite, but very suspicious smile was plastered firmly on Allen’s face.
"Cousin," Allen spoke out loud, breaking the heavy silence. "Why are you really here?"
Damon glared at the younger man. He did not like Allen’s tone.
"I just told you," Damon replied coldly, his deep voice a harsh rumble. "I came to congratulate my wife on her successful business."
Allen let out a soft, mocking chuckle. He shook his head slightly.
"Cousin, did you two fight?" Allen asked directly, raising his eyebrows.
Damon froze. His dark eyes narrowed into dangerous, sharp slits.
"What are you talking about?" Damon demanded. His voice dropped into a low, threatening whisper.
Allen leaned slightly against the wooden table. He picked up his crystal glass of wine again, feeling suddenly very brave.
"You two clearly fought last night," Allen pointed out smoothly, using his sharp observation skills. "She wasn’t like this yesterday. When she came into the store this morning, her face was blank. She looked incredibly sad and stiff. She looked exactly like a woman who had a terrible argument with her husband. And now you show up looking nervous and carrying apology gifts."
Damon’s jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth grinded together. The muscles in his neck stood out visibly. Allen had perfectly guessed the exact truth of their marital problems.
Damon glared at his cousin with warning.
"Have you been married before, Allen?" Damon asked coldly, his voice dripping with heavy sarcasm and disdain. "What do you know about marriage?"
Allen simply smiled again. He set his wine glass down. He reached into the small white pastry box that he had instructed the servant boy to buy earlier. He pulled out a small golden-yellow tea cake.
Allen took a slow, casual bite of his cake. He chewed it deliberately, looking at Damon with a smug expression.
Seeing Allen eating and acting so comfortably in Camilla’s store made Damon’s blood boil. The dark, possessive jealousy that was always hiding just beneath his skin flared to life instantly.
Damon uncrossed his arms. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. He leaned his chest over the table, bringing his face very close to Allen’s.
Damon spoke. His deep voice was a deadly, freezing whisper meant only for Allen’s ears.
"My wife and I have a very good relationship," Damon lied through his teeth, defending his broken marriage fiercely.
He leaned one inch closer. His dark brown eyes burned with murderous intent.
"I am warning you right now," Damon whispered darkly, delivering an absolute, clear threat. "Don’t make a move on your sister-in-law. If you try to cross that line... I will kill you."
Allen stopped chewing his cake. He stared into Damon’s terrifying eyes. He remembered the feeling of being choked. He knew the General was not making an empty threat. He swallowed the cake hard, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck.
Just before the tension could escalate into a physical fight, the sound of soft leather shoes returned to the main room.
"Alright then," Camilla’s clear voice called out cheerfully.
Damon instantly stood up straight. He stepped back from the table, forcing his face to become perfectly calm and pleasant. Allen also took a quick step backward, clearing his throat nervously.
Camilla walked back into the room. She had placed the red roses safely in a water bucket in the back. She walked over to the table, completely unaware of the deadly death threat that had just been issued.
"Let’s eat," Camilla said happily, looking at the pastry boxes on the table. She was genuinely hungry after her long day of work.
Damon saw his opportunity. He wanted to show Camilla that he cared. He wanted to prove to Allen that he was a good, attentive husband.
Damon quickly reached his hands out. He grabbed the expensive white box he had brought. He opened the silk ribbon carefully.
Inside the box sat a beautiful, large cake. It was a rich, sweet cake, covered entirely in a thick, dark purple blueberry glaze. It was the most expensive, most praised dessert in all of Daril. Damon had specifically asked the baker for the sweetest cake they had.
"Try this," Damon said softly, his deep voice full of eager anticipation. He looked at Camilla with warm, hopeful eyes. "The bakery told me it tastes wonderful. It is their best creation."
Damon picked up a small silver spoon from the table. He carefully scooped a generous, soft piece of the dark purple blueberry cake.
He stepped closer to Camilla. He raised the silver spoon toward her pink lips, fully intending to feed her the sweet treat himself.
