Chapter 2 - The Mask of Stone
"Well, well, still talking to the wall, I see," Jason sneered, his eyes moving slowly from the medical monitors over to where I stood beside the bed. He took a slow sip of his drink, leaning against the mahogany bedpost with an air of unearned ownership. "You know, Claire, you really shouldn't waste your tears on him. Ethan hasn't heard a single word in nine months, and he's not going to start now."
I forced my hands to stop shaking, clamping them tightly behind my back as I turned to face him, plastering a tired, grieving expression across my face. "I was just... trying to get used to the room. It's a lot to take in."
"I'm sure it is," Jason chuckled, walking closer until he was standing right behind me, his breath smelling of expensive alcohol and cigars. He reached out, his fingers casually brushing against the lace on my shoulder, making my skin crawl. "A beautiful girl from Yonkers suddenly thrust into the highest kingdom on the Hudson. It must feel like a fairy tale. Too bad your prince is a vegetable."
Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I saw the sheet over Ethan's chest tighten slightly, the muscle in his hidden jaw clenching. My heart nearly leaped out of my throat. If Jason looked down right now, he would see the slight shift in Ethan's vitals on the monitor.
I instantly took a step back, deliberately pulling away from Jason's touch and blocking his view of the bed. "Please, Jason. We're inside my husband's room. Show some respect."
"Husband?" Jason laughed out loud, a booming, ugly sound that echoed through the high ceilings. "He's a piece of paper, sweetie. A legal loophole my grandmother cooked up to keep me from my rightful seat at the head of the table. But let's be real—the moment that clock strikes midnight on his birthday, and the trust structures settle, Ethan's medical team is going to discover a 'sudden complication' in his life support. And then? You'll be a very wealthy, very single young widow."
He leaned in close, his voice dropping into a dangerous, predatory purr. "And when that happens, you're going to need a real man to show you how to spend that Thornton money. Keep that in mind before you get too attached to the machinery."
"Jason, that is enough!"
Vivian Thornton’s cold, authoritative voice cut through the room like a guillotine. She stood at the doorway, her silver hair styled perfectly, her cane tapping against the marble floor with a rhythmic, threatening click. "Get out of this room. The board meeting starts in ten minutes, and you have a presentation to fail."
Jason rolled his eyes, tossing his empty glass into the wastebasket before giving me one last, lingering look. "See you at dinner, Claire. Welcome to the family."
As the door clicked shut behind him, Vivian walked over to the bed, her sharp eyes scanning Ethan’s unmoving form, then shifting to me. "Did he do anything? Any change in the neural readings?"
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"No," I lied, my voice steady despite the adrenaline roaring through my veins. "Nothing at all. The charts are exactly the same."
Vivian let out a cold, disappointed sigh. "Typical. Even in a marriage, he manages to be completely useless. Fix your dress, Claire. You are representing this house now. Don't make me regret buying you."
